Will of Justice: A Legal Thriller (Bill Harvey Book 1)

by Peter O'Mahoney

“Sustained,” Judge Wilmot agrees. “Please stick to the facts as you know them, Detective Miller.”

  “Yes, sir.” Miller nods like a schoolboy after being told off by the principal.

  “Was there any sign of forced entry into the apartment of Jessica Lempare?” Valentine moves on quickly.

  “No.” Miller coughs loudly. He knows that he should give up smoking, but struggles with the reality of his job. Nicotine is an easy release from the stress of his world.

  “Was there anything to suggest that there was an unexpected intruder in the room? Either an open window or another entrance left open?”

  “No.” Miller shakes his head, coughing slightly again. “There was no evidence of that.”

  “Was there anything unusual about this crime scene?”

  “No.” Miller shakes his head for the second time. “It was very clear that the woman was deceased, there was no sign of a struggle, and there was nothing else unusual about the scene.”

  “When you conducted your investigation into this horrific murder, did you find any fingerprints at the scene of the crime?”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “And who did those fingerprints belong to?”

  “We found numerous fingerprints in the apartment. However, we were only able to match fingerprints to Anna Lempare.”

  “And did you find DNA evidence at the scene?”

  “Yes. We found DNA evidence on a glass of water in the living room, next to where the deceased was lying. This DNA evidence was in the form of saliva and was a proven match to Anna Lempare.”

  “What was lying on the ground next to the deceased’s body when you entered the apartment?”

  “It was a copy of the Norman Chester Will. Jessica Lempare is the trustee of that estate.”

  “Was there anything else lying on the ground?”

  “No.”

  “It was a very tidy apartment?”

  “Yes. It was.”

  “So, it would appear that the deceased was discussing the will before she died?”

  “I can’t comment on what she was discussing before she died. However, a copy of the will was lying next to her body when we found her. It was the only thing that appeared out of place in the apartment.”

  “And can you tell the court, were you the officer that arrested Anna Lempare?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did Anna Lempare seem upset when you were questioning her about the death of her aunt?”

  “No. Anna didn’t seem visibly upset by the death of her aunt.”

  “Did Anna Lempare provide an alibi for the time of death?”

  “During questioning, Anna advised that she was at home watching television by herself when the death occurred.”

  “Is there any evidence that proves Anna Lempare was at her apartment at the time that her aunt was murdered, such as security footage of her apartment?”

  “No.”

  “Detective Miller, you arrested Anna Lempare, and escorted her to the police station, and then questioned her about the death of her aunt. Did you, at any time, see Anna Lempare cry over the death of her aunt?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Thank you for your time, Detective Miller.” Valentine smiles. “No further questions.”

  A nice, simple, clean start to the prosecution’s case. A textbook approach to her first witness. Valentine has painted a very clear picture of the crime scene, and she already has convinced some of the jury members of her theory. Bill likes to refer to the jurors convinced by early statements as “believers.” They will believe anything that authority tells them – if a police officer tells them to take off their clothes, they will do it without question. They have total belief in authority because they don’t believe in themselves.

  Bill doesn’t like those jurors. He will work hard to change their minds by showing that the people in authority are just that – people. They may be convinced by Detective Miller’s words, but now it’s Bill’s turn to play the game.

  “Hello, Timothy,” Bill begins, seated behind his desk. He’s deliberately using Detective Miller’s first name to take away any feeling of authority that he has. “Thank you for taking the time to talk with us today. I assume you’re very familiar with the details surrounding this case?”

  “Yes.” Miller replies flippantly. His hatred for Bill Harvey’s profession is clear.

  “The fingerprints that you have stated you found at the crime scene, where were they?”

  “The fingerprints were found to be on the surrounding areas near the location of the deceased’s body.”

  “Can you please provide more detail, Timothy?”

  Detective Miller glares at Bill. He doesn’t like being called Timothy. In his professional life, he’s known as Detective Miller, and in his personal life, he’s known as Tim. Only his grandmother has ever called him Timothy.

  “We conducted detail analysis of the scene, and we found fingerprints on the hallway cabinet and the coffee table. Those fingerprints were proven to belong to Anna Lempare.”

  “But you didn’t find fingerprints on the deceased?”

  “No.”

  “Did you check the deceased for fingerprints?”

  “Of course.”

  “But you couldn’t find any?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Timothy—” Bill pauses, pretending to review his notes again. “You’re aware that Anna Lempare had lived in that apartment, are you not?”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

  “And you’re aware that Anna was a regular visitor to her aunt’s apartment?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it not entirely reasonable that the fingerprints found in those areas occurred in everyday activities, such as visiting her aunt?”

  “Yes, that is possible.”

  “Do you think that the location that you found Anna’s fingerprints point to her guilt?”

  Miller sighs. “No, I don’t.”

  “In your expert and professional opinion, do you think that Anna’s fingerprints in any way prove she committed the crime?”

  Miller pauses again. He looks across to Valentine, but she has her head down, avoiding eye contact. “No.”

  “How many glasses of water were on the table when you entered the room?”

  “Two.”

  “And I assume that you tested both of them for DNA?”

  “Yes. We were able to test the saliva from both glasses of water. One set of DNA was proven to belong to Anna Lempare, and the other set of DNA was proven to belong to Jessica Lempare.”

  “Is it possible that the DNA found on the glasses of water occurred because Anna drank from the glass when visiting her aunt earlier that day?”

  “Yes, that is possible.”

  “In your expert and professional opinion, do you think that the location of the DNA evidence points to her guilt?”

  Miller groans loudly. “No.”

  “And in your expert and professional opinion, do you think that Anna’s DNA on a glass of water proves she committed the crime?”

  Miller pauses again. “No.”

  Calmly, Bill takes more handwritten notes. “Can you tell the court who lived next door to the apartment to Jessica Lempare?”

  “The apartment was at the end of the hallway, and she only had one next-door neighbor. Mr. Thomas Feeble lives in the apartment next door to Jessica Lempare.”

  “And who made the call to 911?”

  “Thomas Feeble.”

  “And who found the body of Jessica Lempare?”

  “Thomas Feeble found the body,” Miller is quick in his response.

  Bill needs repetition around the name of Thomas Feeble to ingrain the possibility of his guilt into the minds of the jurors. The more repetition that they hear of Thomas’s name, the more they are likely to believe his attack in the upcoming testimonies.

  “And did Thomas Feeble enter the apartment alone?”

  “I’m not sure. I wasn’t there,” Miller respon
ds.

  “Of course you weren’t. In reference to the police report which you have complied and signed off, can you please tell the court who entered the apartment alone before the arrival of yourself and your partner?”

  Miller pauses, staring solidly at Bill Harvey. “Thomas Feeble told the police that he entered the apartment after he heard the argument between—”

  “And can you please tell the court,” Bill interrupts, as he doesn’t want Anna’s name mentioned. “Was there any sign of forced entry?”

  “I’ve already answered that question.” Miller complains. “No, there was no sign of forced entry.”

  “So, Thomas Feeble didn’t force his way into the apartment?”

  “No.”

  “Interesting,” Bill quips, beginning to take notes on his legal pad.

  The notes are not for his benefit, rather they are for the benefit of the jury. By stopping to take notes, Bill is emphasizing that this is an important point.

  “Had you met Thomas Feeble before that day?”

  “No.” Miller shakes his head.

  “And where was Thomas Feeble when you arrived at the Los Feliz Palace apartments?”

  “He was waiting in the foyer for us. He then escorted us to the apartment where Jessica Lempare was deceased.”

  “And did you take a statement from Thomas Feeble?”

  “Of course.”

  “And what did Thomas Feeble state about how he was able to enter the apartment?”

  “He explained that he entered through the front door of the apartment, which was unlocked.”

  “Unlocked? Really?” Bill feigns surprise. “Interesting.”

  Again, he takes on his legal pad before continuing.

  “Did you ever consider Thomas Feeble as a suspect in this murder investigation?”

  “Yes, we did. That’s in the police report.”

  Bill looks across to the jurors and he can see the believers nodding. They are convinced that Thomas Feeble may be suspect as the statement is made from a person in authority.

  That is all Bill needs.

  “No further questions.”

  CHAPTER 18

  “The prosecution calls Dr. Daniel Reed to the stand,” Joanne Valentine calls out.

  Dr. Daniel Reed is a prosecutor’s dream.

  He is a picture of perfect professionalism and speaks with such authority that it is hard to doubt any of his statements. The way he holds himself, his expert tone, and his calm confidence, portrays a convincing testimony before he has even said a word.

  His record is as impeccable as his grooming. No criminal defense attorney would dare question his findings. That would be courtroom madness.

  “Please state your name and occupation for the court,” Valentine opens.

  “Dr. Daniel Reed. And I’m employed as a Medical Examiner with the Los Angeles County Department of Medical Examiner-Coroner.”

  “Dr. Reed, please explain to the court how this ruthless, horrible murder occurred?”

  Valentine continues to drop little words such as “ruthless” to build a picture in the juror’s thoughts. She’s very skilled at mind games.

  “This is a particularly violent murder,” Dr. Reed begins. “Our findings are that Jessica Lempare was strangled by the compression of the laryngopharynx, which caused asphyxia by fatally denying the supply of oxygen to the brain. There was also a break in her larynx.”

  “So, she was choked?”

  “In layman terms, yes.”

  “In your expert opinion, what do you think she was choked with?”

  “From the pattern of the bruising on the neck, we can determine that she was strangled by the force of two hands.”

  “Two hands? Not a choke hold, such as a headlock?”

  “No. The bruising on the neck is consistent with what we expect from the use of hands during strangulation. There were two indents on the front of the throat, which indicate the use of the thumbs pushing inwards, and there is also deeper bruising on the back of the neck, which indicates where the fingers were pressing into the neck.”

  The members of the jury squirm with uncomfortable visualizations of the incident. Valentine has played this well. It’s clear that the jury is very uncomfortable with what has happened to this older lady.

  “Were there any other injuries sustained?”

  “Yes. Although, not as much as we would expect if the deceased were struggling a lot. There was bruising sustained to the elbow and to the back of the hip. That is consistent with falling backward. From the autopsy, we can determine that the force on the victim’s throat caused the death, and it’s likely that they fell during a struggle with the attacker.”

  “This suggests that the death could not have been an accident?”

  “This was no accident. There is nothing accidental about this death.” Dr. Reed nods, and the three elderly jurors do the same.

  “Was there any DNA or other objects found under the deceased’s fingernails?”

  “No. There was nothing found.”

  “Interesting,” Valentine states in an inquisitive tone. “That would suggest that Jessica didn’t fight hard against the attack. Do you think that is because she knew the attacker very well and—”

  “Objection,” Bill intervenes. “The witness isn’t qualified to comment on the deceased’s state of mind.”

  “Sustained.” Judge Wilmot is firm. “Stick to what the witness knows, Miss Valentine.”

  “Have you ever done an autopsy on a victim where their death was caused by strangulation by use of hands, and there were no signs of a struggle?”

  “No,” Dr. Reed responds.

  “No further questions. Thank you for your time, Dr. Reed.”

  Judge Wilmot offers Bill the chance to question Dr. Reed. However, Bill takes his time before responding to him.

  Once Bill has replied to the judge, he takes even more time reviewing his notes.

  In all honesty, he doesn’t need any of that time, but he needs the jury to think that he’s considering the holes in the connections between the defendant and Dr. Reed’s statements.

  Bill stands from behind his desk, and ponders his thoughts with his hand on his chin, his eyes looking downward. It’s a pose he has practiced in front of the mirror many times, and it may be overacted enough to be worthy of a spot on daytime television, but the jury is clear on what he’s doing. He can sense Valentine roll her eyes at his actions.

  Taking a glance at the jury, Bill waits for their full attention before continuing.

  “Tell me, Dr. Reed, was there any sign of bruising to the back of the victim’s head?”

  “No.”

  “If the victim fell backward to the floor, would you not assume that they would have hit their head?”

  “Yes.”

  “But there no bruising to the back of the head?”

  “That’s correct?”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “It could have been for a number of reasons, such as the victim may have fallen on something soft – that was removed from the scene before the police arrived – or the murderer may have been holding onto the victim’s head while she fell.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Reed.” Bill turns to face the jury. “Tell me, Dr. Reed, was the bruising that was found on the victim’s neck large?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, there would have had to have been a large force exerted?”

  “Large enough to damage the victim’s larynx, yes. However, the deceased was elderly and frail, and the force needed to injure her would have been considerably less than the force needed to injure you or me.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Reed.” Bill nods. “A large hand would have been needed to make that impact, would it not?”

  “Possibly. The deceased was only a small woman so any impact would have been substantial. However, the bruising is consistent with what we would expect from someone with large hands.”

  Bill looks across at Anna and nods. She raises her hands from
the table and looks at them, turning them over numerous times. It’s clear to the jury that she only has small hands. They had practiced that moment over and over, trying to achieve the right amount of emphasis for the jury.

  Bill’s facial expressions exaggerate as he expresses his curiosity.

  “No further questions.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Thomas Feeble walks to the stand like a defeated man.

  His yellow-tainted eyes are focused on the ground in front of him, his suit is two sizes too big, and his hair is rumpled.

  When he sits on the stand after taking his oath, he lets out a loud sigh and slumps into the chair. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to be anywhere but the safety of his apartment.

  “Please state your name for the court.” Valentine’s voice has dropped lower. She wants Thomas to feel calm and secure on the stand.

  “Thomas James Feeble.”

  “And how do you know the deceased, Jessica Lempare?”

  “I live in the apartment next door to Jessica. I lived there for ten years, and Jessica has always been my next-door neighbor.”

  “Did you interact with her often?”

  “I saw her in the hallway or the foyer at least once a week.”

  “So, you know her voice if you heard it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your apartment wall joins Jessica’s apartment wall?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are the walls thin in your apartment?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “But you do hear things through the walls of your apartment?”

  “Sometimes I can hear things through the wall, but only if it’s very loud.”

  “From your point of view, please take the court through what happened on the afternoon of May 1st.”

  “It was a normal day for me. I was at home watching television when I started to hear yelling through the walls. I turned the television down, and I could hear two women arguing. I couldn’t understand what they were arguing about, but they were calling each other names. It was loud and very intense. I was scared for Jessica. I went next door and knocked on the door, but Jessica yelled for me to go away. I think she was embarrassed that someone could hear their argument. I went back into my apartment, and the yelling seemed to stop for around five or ten minutes, but then the yelling started again, and this time it was louder. It was just one person yelling this time. It was definitely a woman, and it wasn’t Jessica. I went to check on Jessica again, but this time, when I opened my door, I saw Jessica’s niece leaving the apartment.”