Evidence of Murder

by Samuel Roen

  When Bob Wesley began his examination of Jonathon, he asked, “Did anything happen between the date of the crime and the date in December when you gave the statement that affected your memory?”

  Jonathon began to say, “My stepmother told me—”

  Ashton sprang to his feet and objected.

  Judge Perry ordered the jury removed, and a hearing was held.

  When questioned, Jonathon claimed Angel Huggins told him to say those things in his deposition, but they were not true.

  Bit by bit, the truth slowly emerged. The court found out that this supposed new testimony was never told to any defense attorney. Jonathon never discussed it with any of the prosecuting attorneys. Less than surprising, the only person that he talked to about it was his father, and it became evident that he was lying. His father put him up to it.

  Everyone was surprised that Huggins would put his son up there to lie, and in a not very clever way. Ashton felt bad for Jonathon, because he got the impression from the way Jonathon was acting that he really didn’t want to lie, but that his father pressured him to do it, and it backfired on him.

  Judge Perry explained to the defense that if they wanted to put Jonathon on and ask him these questions, he was going to let the state cross-examine the boy about his conversations with the defendant.

  Public defender Wesley agreed that the jury should not hear Jonathon’s new statement.

  Judge Perry also said that as punishment for the defendant basically surprising everyone with this development, the judge was going to allow the state to read Jonathon’s testimony from 1998 to the jury.

  So this jury heard the same important information as the first jury. Jeff Ashton was elated with this important victory for the state.

  Continuing his deft structure against John Huggins, Ashton presented his slate of witnesses, with one after the other testifying to seeing Huggins driving a white Ford Explorer identical to the victim’s, and racing out of the Disney woods from the area where the strangled body of Carla Larson had been discovered.

  As in the first trial, Dr. Shashi Gore, the ME, showed his slides of the victim and explained the injuries, as well as the cause of death.

  Phyllis Thomas’s lips trembled and she averted her eyes from the graphic display of her beloved daughter’s body.

  Detective Cameron Weir told of the disappearance of Carla Larson, the search for her and the thorough investigation that ensued.

  Jeff Ashton did not call Angel Huggins to testify at this trial. He felt that he could make his case without her, taking the wind out of the defense charge of Angel trying to frame her husband.

  CHAPTER 34

  At the lunch break Jeff Ashton and Jim Altman walked to a nearby restaurant. Ashton smiled at his partner. “Whew! This Tampa heat sure gets to me. We’ve walked two blocks and I’m wringing wet. My shirt is sticking to me.”

  “Me too. It seems to me that Tampa is so much hotter than Orlando. Or is this just a heat wave or something? Either way I’ll be glad to get inside and cool off.”

  When seated, Ashton reached for the menu. “What looks good to you, Jim?”

  “Something cold,” he answered.

  “Yeah, and a big glass of iced tea with lots of ice.” Jeff Ashton laughed.

  Back in the courtroom, Judge Belvin Perry eased into his bench seat and nodded to the bailiff, who called the court to order.

  In the quiet tense courtroom, Ashton showed the jurors the videotape of the John Huggins and Steve Olson interview that took place in the Seminole County Jail.

  This jury was as surprised as the first at the contrast of the suspected killer, in his navy blue jail garb, unkempt hair and generally coarse appearance on-screen with the defendant sitting at the defense table, properly attired in a neat dark business suit, hair trimmed and neatly combed.

  The jury watched spellbound and listened to Huggins as he talked about his blackouts and his medicine, his alcohol and drug abuse, telling that he didn’t think he was the kind of guy to do such a thing. He never, however, flatly denied that he committed the murder.

  When the tape was finished, the courtroom was hushed; then whispers rippled across the room. The jury stared at Huggins, transfixed.

  Defense lawyer Bob Wesley, attempting to play down the effects of the tape, said, “It’s obviously rambling and confused. Mr. Huggins was in poor medical condition then.” He added that Huggins was very ill and “jail officials had to hospitalize him several times in the days before the Olson interview.”

  Prosecutor Ashton, however, saw the tape “as a powerful piece of evidence because John Huggins does not deny involvement in the killing. Plus, he places himself near the scene of the crime at a hotel where he was on vacation at the time.”

  Kevin Smith, Huggins’s friend, took the witness stand. He repeated his testimony from the first trial about Huggins driving the white Ford Explorer, and again told about his friend leaving the unfamiliar vehicle on his property for what he thought was going to be a few hours but turned out to be several days. He also recounted finding the radar detector from the Explorer deposited mysteriously at his home.

  Wesley’s cross-examination replayed his inferences about Smith. He stressed Smith’s resemblance to the artist’s composite sketch, his long hair and deep tan, and his knowledge of the area of the burned vehicle. He questioned Smith’s alibi, hoping the jury would find a reasonable doubt about Huggins’s guilt.

  When Wesley concluded, he excused Smith.

  After a weekend spent poring over their notes and making last-minute adjustments, the participants in the Huggins trial returned to the Tampa courtroom on Monday, July 22.

  Ashton and Altman, nearing the end of their presentation, would probably rest their case that morning.

  The Larsons and the Thomases were all present, hanging on grimly, following the court proceedings with unflagging interest, quietly anticipating the end with their hoped-for verdict.

  Also in court were Huggins’s mother with his two children and his stepdaughter. Seated at the defense table next to his two attorneys, Huggins smiled and waggled his fingers at his family. He seemed totally relaxed, as though all of the proceedings going on around him had no connection to him.

  Ashton’s witness Faye Blades (formerly Faye Elms), mother-in-law of John Huggins, confidently answered the prosecutor’s questions about finding Carla Larson’s jewelry.

  She explained in detail about the electrical wall box in her shed with two screws missing from the cover plate, which made her curious. She said that after unscrewing the remaining two screws, she was stunned to find a stash of jewelry wrapped in a paper towel stuffed inside. The jewelry was identified as Carla Larson’s.

  Upon completion of her testimony, the prosecution rested its case. Judge Perry announced a recess, after which the defense would present its case.

  Following the recess when the bailiff announced that the court was now in session, public defender Bob Wesley leaned his body toward Huggins and made some comment to his client, then turned to address the court and the jury.

  The assembly fell quiet as everyone waited to hear Wesley address Judge Perry and the jury. He began with a flat pronouncement: “The prosecution has no physical evidence to directly link John Huggins to the crime.” He paused dramatically while his statement was absorbed. The members of the jury sat quietly, listening attentively.

  As the defense lawyer calmly opened his presentation, designed to counteract and destroy the state’s case, Phyllis and Mert Thomas watched with hardened eyes focused on the attorney who was fighting for the life of the man they saw as the demon who stole their beloved child’s life.

  Shaking his head to negate the prosecution’s evidence, Wesley continued in a low-toned voice. “No physical evidence, but they presented a series of circumstances that supposedly support their case.”

  The defense lawyer brazenly suggested that Angel Huggins, the estranged wife of his client, angered because he was having a sexual relationship with her si
ster, Nancy, conspired to frame him for this crime.

  Wesley began the defense case by calling scientific and technical authorities as witnesses, maintaining that there were no fingerprints of Huggins on or near the body, no matching DNA to the hair found on the body or the jewelry, no footprints, nothing to tie John Huggins to the crime.

  In order to discredit the eyewitness testimony and create reasonable doubt, defense attorney Bob Wesley implied that the description of the man seen driving the Explorer matched Kevin Smith, not John Huggins.

  On Wednesday, July 24, an unexpected bombshell blew up at the trial.

  Earlier in the trial, prosecutors had claimed that Huggins shaved his hair in the jail, including his pubic hair, to keep detectives from collecting a sample for evidence.

  To refute that testimony, assistant public defender Greg Hill, who was assisting Bob Wesley, brought Orange County Corrections Officer Mark Thornton to the witness stand to question him about the reason John Huggins shaved his hair. Thornton was to testify that Huggins claimed to have a plausible explanation for it, and Thornton confirmed that there was an outbreak of lice in the jail at that time.

  The devastating misfire for the defense attorney occurred when he asked Thornton, “How did you find out the reason Huggins shaved his pubic hair?”

  “He told me” was his simple answer.

  Jeff Ashton leaped to his feet, objecting. He was anxious to introduce the question of Huggins’s credibility and stated firmly, “Your Honor, because the jurors will have to make a decision whether they believe Mr. Huggins’s explanation to the jail officer, we ask the judge to reveal to the jury the record of John Huggins’s felony convictions.”

  Like an unexpected thunderclap, the courtroom reacted with whispered comments and opinions. The judge rapped his gavel for order.

  With no hesitation Judge Perry agreed with the prosecutor.

  Normally, any previous convictions or records of a defendant are not allowed to be used or mentioned in a current trial. Jeff Ashton, though, was aware of an evidence provision, which is not well known. He said that it’s in the book, but very few people have noticed it: “It basically says that if you offer somebody’s statement through another witness, it will be called hearsay, that you can then attack the person who made the statement, just as if he or she testified in person. So our basic argument was that since the defendant tried to put in front of the jury his own statement about whether he had lice or not, that made his credibility an issue. If his credibility is an issue, then his prior conviction record is an element of that credibility. And Judge Perry ruled in our favor. I believe he was absolutely right and I don’t think it’s even a debatable question.”

  Judge Perry explained the situation to the jury and began to read a statement to the panel in which he cited nine felony convictions, admonishing that they “may consider in deciding the credibility of Mr. Huggins on the issue of his shaved pubic hair.”

  The judge did not detail that Huggins’s record also included dozens of arrests since 1975, on charges of burglary, grand theft, aggravated battery, forgery, and that he was currently serving seven life terms and four thirty-year terms for bank robberies in Orange County and Brevard County in Florida.

  In his Monday-morning quarterbacking account, assistant public defender Greg Hill sorrowfully stated that he did not expect Thornton’s statement.

  Bob Wesley summed up his reaction with the simple statement “I wish it hadn’t happened.”

  Jeff Ashton wouldn’t comment on whether he thought the mistake was a break for the state. He said only, “I’m sure the jury will follow the judge’s instructions and limit its use to that one comment.”

  During this downturn for the defense, John Huggins sat soberly, with a weak, sickly, smile, staring into a scratch pad on the table before him. His family in the first row—his seventy-two-year-old mother, Joanne, his son, Jonathon, daughter, Ruth Anne, eleven, and stepdaughter, April Saunders, twelve or thirteen, all watched with grim expressions.

  The press and electronic media burst out of the courtroom, individually contacting their various home bases to deliver full accounts of what took place in court. They had a field day with the story, the newspapers carrying banner headlines, and the TV and radio declaring it “breaking news” and giving it the top spot on newscasts.

  The defense rested its case.

  Observers commented later that it seemed odd that Preston Ausley was not called to testify. After all, it was his statement about seeing a woman driving the Ford Explorer that caused the original verdict to be overturned in the first trial, resulting in this new trial. They speculated that perhaps after checking out his story, it didn’t hold up.

  Judge Perry recessed for the day. The spectators filed out of the courtroom, aware that the next day would be important, perhaps crucial, with the closing arguments.

  Jeff Ashton and Jim Altman sat at their table, intensely scanning through their notes and papers, considering what references they should take back to their hotel for some last-minute cramming for the important close.

  “I don’t want to miss the boat on this one, Jim,” Ashton said.

  “You’ve got that right. After all that’s gone into this, we don’t want to overlook anything.”

  “And we’re not going to. We’ll have a session later. Most importantly, I want both of us to get a good night’s sleep, like boxers do before a championship fight.”

  “Gotcha.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Thursday, July 25, 2002, was a lovely, sunny, typically hot summer day. The crowded Tampa courtroom eagerly awaited the final arguments of the murder case against defendant John Steven Huggins.

  An atmosphere of expectancy permeated the courtroom, which included an expanded number of media personnel.

  The short, heavyset bailiff rose and announced, “All rise, this court is now in session.” Slowly and deliberately Judge Belvin Perry took his place and opened the proceedings.

  Seated close to the area of the prosecution team were Jim Larson and his mother, Ada Larson, along with Phyllis and Mert Thomas, parents of the victim. Across the aisle there were several family members of the defendant.

  John Huggins and his defense attorneys sat quietly at their table.

  Prosecutor Jeff Ashton, speaking for the state of Florida, would be followed by public defender Bob Wesley, who would plead for the life of his client. Ashton would be allowed to speak again after Wesley concluded.

  As Ashton rose, the room grew silent, awaiting this climax to the long trial. Respectfully he nodded his head to the judge and greeted, “Good morning.” Turning to the members of the jury, he said, “Good morning,” and they responded in low tones, “Good morning.”

  In a confident manner Ashton began his presentation. He explained that he wanted to give an overview of the case in a chronological order, then proceeded to name each witness in turn. He guided the jury step by step from the disappearance of Carla Larson, through the search, to the finding of her body.

  He detailed the meticulous police investigation, ultimately leading to the suspect, John Huggins, and his stay at the Days Inn, across the street from the Publix market, where Carla Larson was last seen.

  There was a slight interruption of Ashton’s progress when a tall, thin, bronze-haired reporter pushed his way to a seat on the crowded news bench and was greeted with quick handshakes and welcome words.

  The judge banged for order. The prosecutor panned across the jury, making eye contact with each panelist. He picked up his narrative, noting that it was approximately 12:16 P.M. when Carla Larson left the Publix, presumably to go back to work. He continued to follow the timeline, from the first sighting of the white Explorer, through all the witnesses who saw the vehicle driven out of the wooded area.

  The hard-driving prosecutor paused. Scanning the jury to ensure their continued attention, he went on to the descriptions given by the various witnesses who saw the driver of the SUV.

  Defense counsel Bob Wesley s
at busily scribbling notes as his opponent rolled on with his presentation. Huggins listened with an attentive expression on his round face.

  Ashton consulted his notes and continued. “The one thing that everyone who saw the man driving the SUV is certain of is that it was, in fact, a man. No one has ever, ever suggested that this could have been a woman.” He hammered home: “It was clearly a man who everyone saw.”

  Ashton stated that one of the witnesses particularly noticed the driver’s eyes.

  Showing to the jury the composite that was drawn by the sheriff’s department artist, prosecutor Ashton pointed out the eyes, and then asked the panel to compare them to John Huggins’s eyes on the videotape.

  Ashton described the killer’s path from Osceola Parkway, getting off where he dumped Carla’s purse, on a route that would take him back to Highway 192, back to the Days Inn. “Why is Days Inn important?” Ashton asked. “Because we know from documentary evidence that on June tenth Angel Huggins, the defendant’s wife, was registered at the Days Inn directly across the street from the Publix, which is the last place that we know Carla Larson was.”

  Ashton showed the jury photographs of the Publix and a receipt for Carla’s purchases specifying the time, 12:16 P.M., on June 10, the last day of her life. He told the panel they would have copies of the receipt to take to the jury room. This would show that she charged it to her Discover credit card, the same card later found in her purse.

  He emphasized that John Huggins, by his own statement, was at the motel across the street with Angel, and that on the morning of June 10, 1997, John Huggins was staying within one hundred yards of where Carla Larson disappeared.

  John Huggins, obviously disturbed by Ashton’s systematic recap, leaned over and grabbed his attorney Wesley’s arm. The lawyer nodded supportively to his client, which seemed to pacify him somewhat. But there remained a grim expression on the defendant’s face.