“Yes. Then the next day I went into the office for a while and returned home as soon as I could. She said before I left that she wanted to wait for me. Otherwise I would have driven her back to her car. I didn’t stay long at the hospital. I wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with me. We started playing our old game and she wanted to be tied up. That’s when Mr. O’Hara came to the door.”
“And you didn’t let him in?”
“I didn’t want to let him in for obvious reasons, to protect Elizabeth as well as myself. I refused. Then I heard Elizabeth screaming and the glass breaking. I ran back down the hallway to her and that’s when Mr. O’Hara broke down the door and tackled me. I tried to tell him the circumstances were not what he thought but he wouldn’t listen.”
“So, the camera that was in the bedroom and Elizabeth tied up, that was all part of a sexual game between you and Elizabeth?”
St. Claire stared down at his hands. “As humiliating as this is to discuss in front of everyone, the answer is yes.”
“How did Elizabeth get cut on her neck?”
“That happened at home right before I tied her up. It was an accident. I did have a knife. It was just part of our game. I didn’t mean to cut her. I had the knife and she moved and I wasn’t paying attention. Thank God it was just a scratch.”
McGuiness paused, allowing the silence to intensify the moment before he asked his next question. “Dr. St. Claire, after all of this happened, you are aware that Elizabeth told a very different version than what you have told us today?”
St. Claire’s voice was inaudible. McGuiness stepped farther back and raised his voice. “Dr. St. Claire, did you hear me? Do you have anything to say about why Elizabeth would say something so different from what you have testified to today?”
St. Claire looked down. “I can’t answer that, only Elizabeth can. My guess is that it’s her parents again. Even so, I love her. I still love her. What kind of a fool does that make me?” Several of the women were wiping away tears. Jamison drew circles on his legal pad, trying to appear as if none of it was affecting him. At least now he knew what he was facing.
As he walked back to the counsel table, McGuiness said, “Your Honor, I have no further questions of Dr. St. Claire at this time.” He looked over at Jamison. “Your witness, counsel.”
Jamison sat silently for a moment and then rose slowly from his chair at the counsel table. “Your Honor, may we have a short recess? I would like to examine further some of the evidence that Mr. McGuiness has introduced.”
Aware that Jamison had not seen any of the evidence before St. Claire’s examination, Wallace responded, “We’ll take a twenty-minute recess. Be prepared to proceed when we return.”
St. Claire left the witness stand and walked back to where McGuiness was seated. There was no lack of confidence in his stride.
Several jurors gave St. Claire sympathetic looks as they filed out of the courtroom. Jamison whispered to O’Hara, “I’m going to take a closer look at that evidence. Meet me in one of the empty jury rooms in the back hallway.” O’Hara nodded. His expression was grim.
Jamison had the bag and the Queen Mary receipt in his hands. He laid them on the empty jury room table in front of O’Hara. “What do you think?”
O’Hara picked up the two pieces of paper. “They look legitimate to me. I mean, how could you forge something like this? The only thing that went through my mind was why the hell would he have kept this stuff? Who keeps this kind of stuff?” O’Hara put them back down on the table. “What are you going to do?”
“The first thing I need to do is talk to Beth.” Jamison picked up the receipts and told O’Hara to return them to the clerk in the courtroom. “I need to make a call.”
He pulled out his phone and waited impatiently until Elizabeth answered. “Beth, I have some questions and not much time. When you went to Los Angeles with St. Claire, he testified that you told him you were pregnant and—”
“I never said that,” Elizabeth blurted out. “You have to believe me.”
“Okay, but he said the two of you bought some baby clothes. Beth, he brought them to court and there’s a receipt for the day that the two of you were down there. He also has a receipt for the same day for a tour of some attraction on the Queen Mary in the harbor.” Jamison could hear labored breathing on the other end of the phone. “Beth, I have to know the truth. Did you purchase any baby clothes when you were with him? Did you go to the Queen Mary?” Jamison was trying to keep his voice calm but he couldn’t keep the agitation out of it. There was a long silence at the other end of the line.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know what he’s talking about. None of that happened.” Jamison could hear her starting to cry.
“Beth, St. Claire had a photograph of you that he said was taken in the parking lot at the mall the day you testified he surprised you. He said you asked him to take it with your camera.”
He could hear the catch in Elizabeth’s voice as her words tumbled out. “I don’t know anything about photographs. I don’t know how he obtained a photograph of me, but I didn’t know it was being taken.”
Jamison took a deep breath. “All right, all right. Beth, I had to ask. I’ll talk to you later. I have to go back to court.” Jamison hung up and ran back to the courtroom.
Judge Wallace and the jurors were already seated. Wallace gave him a hard look as he rushed in. “It looks like we can get started now. Are you ready, Mr. Jamison?”
Jamison didn’t immediately answer. He scribbled a note and handed it to O’Hara, telling him to have Ernie go to the hospital and check the log books. “Yes, Your Honor.”
Wallace nodded to the defendant. “Dr. St. Claire, please retake the witness stand. I remind you that you are still under oath.”
Jamison looked down at his notes. He didn’t have much. Either St. Claire was telling the truth or Beth was telling the truth. Either the baby clothes had been purchased as St. Claire said or they were purchased to create an alibi. He had to cross-examine St. Claire based on the assumption Beth was telling the truth. The worst part was that while he really wanted to believe her, he couldn’t shake off his own nagging doubts. He also knew that if he had doubts then the jury was already halfway down the road to walking Alex St. Claire out of court.
Jamison took a deep breath to slow down his heartbeat, picked up his notepad, and glanced at his outline. Before he tried any case he always decided on his objectives in cross-examination of likely witnesses. He had learned a long time ago to stick with those objectives and to never go fishing if he didn’t know how deep the water was.
With St. Claire, he knew he had no idea what might be coming at him. His objective was clear. He had to shake St. Claire’s credibility, find a crack and then drive a wedge into it. The problem was finding the crack.
“Dr. St. Claire,” he began deliberately, “let me see if I understand what you say happened the night Elizabeth Garrett’s car was found abandoned by the side of the road. Ms. Garrett agreed to meet you after she finished having dinner at the Packing Shed?”
“Yes.”
“Was there some reason why she could not meet you at your home?”
“No, Mr. Jamison, there was not. As a matter of fact, that was my suggestion: my home. Elizabeth is the one who asked me to meet her at that location. I was there waiting for her when she drove up. How else would I have known where she was going to be? That was not the most convenient way for her to drive home.” St. Claire paused. “At least according to your own witnesses. Your implication that I followed her to that location would mean that Elizabeth would take a different route than she has taken perhaps several hundred times before, in the middle of the night, and I would follow her?” St. Claire let his answer hang in the air. “Mr. Jamison, Elizabeth called me and told me she was leaving the Packing Shed. How else would I have known when she would be driving home?”
Jamison didn’t want to answer but he had no choice. “By following
her from the Packing Shed would seem the most logical explanation. Isn’t that what you did?”
St. Claire smiled before answering. “It is what I could have done had I wanted to sit in my car waiting for her to leave the restaurant and follow her some ten miles out into the country. That is your suggestion, isn’t it?”
“It isn’t simply a suggestion, Dr. St. Claire, it is exactly what you did, isn’t it?”
“I believe the logs of the hospital will reflect that I did not leave the hospital until after nine thirty that evening. Isn’t that the time Elizabeth testified she left the restaurant? She called me, Mr. Jamison. I didn’t call her. Perhaps you should look at the logs at the hospital?”
Jamison kept his composure. He could feel his shirt begin to stick to his body. He wasn’t making any headway with St. Claire and McGuiness had let him walk again right into the log books. He didn’t have to see them to know that somehow they would reflect what St. Claire said. Again, there were only two explanations. He couldn’t cross-examine in that area without walking blindfolded through a mine-field. He decided to shift.
“You testified that the cut on Ms. Garrett’s neck occurred when the two of you were at your home?”
“That’s correct. It was an accident.”
“I assume she bled?”
“Yes, there was a small amount of blood.”
“Did any of that blood get on the sheets or the pillowcase?”
“I believe there may have been some. Actually I went and got some tissues. The cut was really more of a scratch. There wasn’t much.”
“Was there enough to have left a smear of blood on the seat of Ms. Garrett’s car?”
St. Claire didn’t flinch. “Perhaps, I really don’t know.”
“You heard the testimony that there was a smear of blood on Ms. Garrett’s driver’s seat with the outline of a knife tip?”
“Yes, I heard that. And I heard Elizabeth say I put it there.”
“Didn’t you?”
Momentarily, St. Claire stared straight at Jamison and then moved his head slightly toward the jurors, speaking slowly with emphasis. “If I had done what Elizabeth said, then I suppose the answer would be yes. But I did not do that. I don’t know how it got there. Perhaps you should ask Elizabeth when you ask her about the clothing we bought for the baby? Besides, how many knives did you find in my home?”
Jamison quickly evaluated St. Claire’s answer. The defense couldn’t admit that he had used a knife at the scene where the car was found because that would make Elizabeth’s version more credible. St. Claire’s answer was the alternate version, but it was an unexplained hole in their story. Jamison walked over to the counsel table and picked up a manila envelope, removing a plastic bag with a knife in it. He took the bag to the clerk and asked her to put an exhibit number on the bag. Then he held the bag in front of St. Claire. “This is your knife, isn’t it?”
St. Claire reached for the plastic bag that Jamison held slightly out of reach. “May I see it, please?” He examined the knife through the clear plastic.
“Would you describe it please, Dr. St. Claire?”
“It is a knife with a four-inch blade.”
“It is a switchblade, isn’t it, Dr. St. Claire? A spring-loaded knife that flips open when you press a release switch on the side?”
“Yes.”
“Are you aware it is illegal to possess a switchblade knife?”
“Yes.”
“Whose is it, Dr. St. Claire?”
“It’s mine.”
“And it is also sharpened on both sides, isn’t it, like a dagger?”
“Yes.”
“And you kept this switchblade in your car?”
“No, the knife in my car is rather small, more like a pocket knife. You didn’t find it when you searched?”
Jamison answered the question. “No, there was no knife in your car that I am aware of. This is the only knife we found. Is this the knife that cut Elizabeth Garrett?”
“I said it was an accident.”
“Your answer is yes?”
“Yes.”
Jamison reached into the bag and pulled out the knife. He flicked the switch on the side, allowing the blade to snap open and holding it in front of St. Claire. He had deliberately not put the knife into evidence earlier during his case, anticipating that cross-examination might be the right moment. “Why would you have a knife like this, Dr. St. Claire?”
“I have had it for many years. It’s a curiosity, and I don’t carry it. I keep it in my home. Isn’t that where you found it?”
“We found it in the room where Elizabeth Garrett was tied to the bed. Isn’t it true that this was the knife you used when you stopped Elizabeth’s car that night?”
“I told you I did not stop her car. But the answer is no.”
“Then can you explain, Dr. St. Claire, why the tip of this knife exactly matches the outline found in the smeared blood on Elizabeth’s driver’s seat?”
Before Jamison finished asking the question, McGuiness was out of his chair. “Your Honor, I object. Mr. Jamison is asking my client to speculate. There is no evidence the knife matches any outline on the driver’s seat. The question is—”
Wallace ruled before McGuiness finished. “Objection sustained. Mr. Jamison, you will rephrase your question. There is no evidence before the court regarding the outline on the seat of the car.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. I agree there is nothing in evidence yet as to the outline of the knife on the seat. I don’t expect that rephrasing will produce a better answer than what we have received.”
McGuiness stood again. “Your Honor . . .”
“I’ll move on. But before I do”—Jamison waived his hand toward McGuiness—“will you stipulate that the blood found on the side of the driver’s seat was Elizabeth Garrett’s?”
McGuiness nodded. “We will agree that it is Ms. Garrett’s blood.”
“Thank you.” Jamison turned back toward St. Claire. “Since you have been so helpful in providing explanations to my questions, do you have any explanation for how Elizabeth Garrett’s blood got on the driver’s seat?”
“You would have to ask her. I do not.”
“Or why she would wipe a knife stained with blood on that seat?”
St. Claire’s expression was impassive. “That seems to assume that it was left by a knife or . . . by that knife.”
Jamison hesitated. There was something here and he could ask or he could wait. He decided to wait and switch gears, hopefully to get St. Claire off-balance. He walked over to the clerk’s desk and picked up the bag of baby clothes. “Dr. St. Claire, these baby clothes that you testified you and Elizabeth Garrett purchased while you were in Los Angeles. Isn’t it true she was not with you when they were purchased?”
“No, Mr. Jamison, it is not true.” St. Claire’s expression was incredulous. “Why would I do something like that? Elizabeth told me she was pregnant. It was her idea to buy the clothes. I was trying to make her happy.”
“Why would you keep them all these years when they represent such an unhappy memory?
“Why do people keep love letters from relationships that ended many years ago? I have no good answer. I put them away. I didn’t look at them. When this happened, I was told that the accusations regarding Los Angeles would come up, and Mr. McGuiness asked if I had anything that might help prove we went down there as I said. I remembered that I might still have these packed away, as was the receipt for the Queen Mary.”
Jamison picked up the Queen Mary receipt. “You were not with Elizabeth Garrett when you purchased this either, were you?” His voice had a harsh biting edge to it.
St. Claire shook his head. “Mr. Jamison, if your girlfriend jumped out of your car under these circumstances and you saw the police come as I testified, do you think I would have been in a frame of mind to go sightseeing?”
“I am not suggesting you were going sightseeing, Dr. St. Claire. I am suggesting that you purchased these items t
o create an alibi. Isn’t that what happened?”
St. Claire turned slightly toward the jury before answering. “Mr. Jamison, I was young. I wasn’t sophisticated and I wasn’t a criminal. All of it was foolish and immature. I’m sorry. I don’t have a better answer than that.” His voice carried indignation that was hard to ignore.
Back at the clerk’s desk, Jamison laid the receipts back down. He knew that he didn’t have a single piece of evidence to disprove anything that St. Claire said about what happened. All he had was Beth Garrett’s word. The photograph of her was lying in the center of the counsel table. He picked it up and studied it for a moment before realizing the jury was looking intently at him. He walked over to St. Claire and handed him the photograph. “Dr. St. Claire, this photograph, which you testified you took of Elizabeth, you took it from a distance, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean, ‘from a distance’?”
“What I mean is that you were standing far enough away when this photograph was taken that she might not have been aware it was taken. Isn’t that correct?”
St. Claire considered the implication of Jamison’s question. “Mr. Jamison, if you are attempting to subtly imply I was hiding somewhere and took this photograph, you are wrong. It was Elizabeth’s camera, not mine. Your investigators seized my camera when you ransacked my home. You didn’t find any photographs of Elizabeth and me at the mall, did you?” St. Claire held out the photograph.
Jamison took the photograph back from St. Claire and examined it again. “Well, Dr. St. Claire, we didn’t find this photograph either.”
It was time, Jamison decided, to abruptly change the questions. “Dr. St. Claire, what is succinylcholine? Are you familiar with that?” St. Claire’s mouth tightened almost imperceptibly. Jamison sensed that he had hit a nerve. There was a reaction. It was overshadowed by McGuiness rising up from his seat at the counsel table.
“Your Honor, may we approach the bench?”
McGuiness was at the side of Wallace’s bench before the judge could answer. Jamison took his time walking over. McGuiness kept his voice low but the fury in it was evident. He turned toward Jamison. “What is this about?”
Fractured Justice Page 24