Fatal February

by Barbara Levenson

  “Did you find out what type of car the runaway woman drove off in?”

  “I’ll have to look at my report. Offhand, I don’t remember. Yes, a small red car.”

  “Did you ever check to see what kind of car Maddie Rodriguez owned?”

  “I don’t believe I did. I might have.”

  “Well, did you or didn’t you?”

  “I have no recollection of checking the car.”

  “You stated that Mrs. Yarmouth told you she had been away shopping, came home, and found her husband bleeding in the bedroom. Did you check in any way to see if what she told you was true?”

  “I saw some bags of groceries in the kitchen, and some packages were found in her car, but they could have been there for hours or even days.”

  “Well, was some of the food decomposing or was there melting ice cream?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  “Did you ask for the names of stores Mrs. Yarmouth had visited? Did you check the receipts in the packages?”

  “I don’t believe I did. Maybe another officer did.”

  “Wouldn’t finding out the times Mrs.Yarmouth visited the stores have either confirmed her statement or discounted it?”

  “Possibly.”

  “By the way, did you read Mrs. Yarmouth her Miranda rights before questioning her?”

  “Of course.”

  “May I see the waiver of rights form you had her sign?”

  “I didn’t give her a written form. I just read her the rights form.”

  “Did you note the time of the reading of the rights form?”

  “I’ll have to look at my report.”

  “Certainly, go ahead.”

  “I’m having a little problem finding the time.”

  “It’s true, isn’t it, Detective, that you didn’t inform her of her right to remain silent and to have her attorney present until after you spoke to her and were in the process of arresting her?”

  “I do see a notation that I Mirandized her at the time of her arrest.”

  “Did you ever ask Lillian who else had access to the house?”

  “I didn’t ask her. Maybe another officer did.”

  “What about fingerprints on the letter opener? Were prints recovered?”

  “There were numerous smudged prints all over the handle. There were only partial prints, not enough points to make a match.”

  “What about the blood on Lillian’s clothes? Was any of it her blood?”

  “No, the blood was from the deceased.”

  “Were there any signs that Lillian had been involved in a struggle or a fight?”

  “Not that I can recall.”

  “So based on the fact that Lillian Yarmouth was the only person in the house, you charged her with murder, with no fingerprints, no follow-up with her neighbor, no investigation of where she had been that afternoon, and no idea of who else had access to the Yarmouth residence? Is that correct?”

  “Objection, Your Honor.” Karl was on his feet. “That is a compound question and Ms. Katz is badgering the witness.”

  “I’ll withdraw my question, Judge, and that concludes my cross-examination of this witness.”

  “I have just one redirect question, Judge,” Karl said. “Detective Fonseca, did you have any doubts about whether Lillian Yarmouth was the murderer of her husband?”

  “Certainly not. I have a good gut instinct regarding the perpetrators of crimes.”

  I was on my feet. I was furious with such a ridiculous answer. “Your Honor, I know I’m not entitled to a recross, but this answer triggers a new area. May I ask a couple of questions?”

  The detective was about to leave the witness chair, but Judge Arnold motioned him to stay put. “Go ahead, Ms. Katz, and bailiff, cancel the other hearings for this afternoon. This one is going to take a while,” the judge said.

  “Detective, you’ve been working homicide cases for three years, correct?”

  “Yes, three years.”

  “It’s correct that you take great pride in your work?”

  “Of course.”

  “That would include closing cases based on thorough investigations, right?”

  “That’s what I do.”

  “But in this case you failed to investigate several areas and, as you just told Mr. Morris, you relied on your gut instinct to arrest Lillian Yarmouth?”

  “What I meant was I see a lot of people and I can judge when they’re guilty.”

  “Well, if you can do the judging, there’s no need for a court of law is there, sir?”

  The detective’s face turned a lovely shade of red, as I gathered my notes and sat down.

  “You’re excused, Detective Fonseca,” Judge Arnold said. “Let’s take a five minute break.”

  Judge Arnold left the bench. Catherine took Lillian to the restroom, and I turned to stretch. The seats were all full in the public section, and there in the back row was Carlos, who raised his fist on his good arm like the winner in a prizefight.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  I walked back to Carlos. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see the big show that’s kept us from seeing each other lately. I sure hope you never cross-examine me. You are one scary lady,” Carlos said.

  “Thanks for coming. I need all the moral support I can get.” I waved as I went back to the defense table.

  Lillian and Catherine returned to their seats. I explained to Lillian that Maddie Rodriguez was missing, and would not be testifying.

  “That’s good for us, isn’t it?” Lillian asked.

  “Yes, I think it is,” I answered. Lillian continued to look composed and calm. I wondered if she was still taking tranquilizers. “Lillian, remember to write down anything you think is important during any of the testimony.” I pushed her yellow pad back in front of her and noticed that so far there were only circular doodles on it. Too bad I’m not a psychologist and can read what they mean, I thought.

  Judge Arnold reappeared. “Call your next witness, State.”

  The State called Dr. Sandra Wilson, a deputy medical examiner. She had a reputation for being an excellent witness and a straight shooter. She was sworn in and took her seat, unfolding a page of notes and removing some slides from an envelope.

  I leaned over to Lillian. “This testimony may be gory. If you feel you don’t want to hear it, you can leave the courtroom, but it’s probably best if you can stay,” I whispered.

  “I’ll stick it out. Nothing could be worse than the way I found Gary,” she said.

  Dr. Wilson was stating her ample résumé and years of experience while Lillian and I whispered.

  “Now, Dr. Wilson, were you the deputy medical examiner assigned to perform the autopsy on Gary Yarmouth?”

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “When did you first become involved in this case?”

  “I was called to go to the Yarmouth residence in Coconut Grove on the afternoon of February 8th. I viewed the body in the bedroom on the second floor. Two of my technicians removed the body and the bloody coverlet on the bed where he was discovered. I made a drawing of the scene, after making a quick examination of the body. I noted the time to be four thirty-five p.m.

  “Could you tell how long the victim had been dead?”

  “Rigor mortis had not yet set in; that is, the body was not stiff, although the victim was cool to the touch. Bleeding had stopped. It could have been a matter of hours. Not long though.”

  “What was your next involvement?”

  “I returned to the office and completed my notes regarding the scene. I noted that the bedroom appeared to have been the scene of a struggle, a chair overturned, papers and books on the floor.

  “I began my autopsy the following morning. May I put these slides on the viewer? They will help illustrate my findings.”

  “Any objection, Ms. Katz?” the judge asked.

  “None, Your Honor.”

  Sandra left the witness chair and standing next to the large
slide viewer, placed three slides that were blowups of the chest cavity of Gary Yarmouth. A fourth slide showed a wound that appeared to be to an arm.

  “Please explain your findings,” Karl said.

  “The first thing I noticed was a small bump on the head of the victim. There was an iron headboard on the bed where the victim was found. I opined that he might have hit his head in a struggle.

  Next, I observed some defensive wounds on both of the victim’s palms. They were small cuts. The victim must have tried to fend off his attacker. I removed the clothing, which was covered in a great deal of blood. The blood tests showed it to be only that of the victim. I examined the clothing carefully and microscopically and found hairs belonging to the victim. However, there were two strands, which were long and blonde. They were clearly tinted that color as the roots were brown and the dye was apparent under the microscope. I bagged the hairs and sent them to the evidence lab.

  Next I began the surgical examination of the organs. I found no traces of drugs or alcohol. The food left in the lower intestine was well digested and was ingested several hours earlier. The heart and chest cavity was the locus of the major wound.”

  Sandra pointed to the fourth slide. “This slide shows a wound to the right arm of the deceased. This wound is several centimeters above the defensive wound on the right palm. This wound is deep but clearly not deadly. However, it appears from the blood on the clothing I removed that it caused enough bleeding to have alarmed a victim. Perhaps the surprise or the pain from this gash would have stunned the deceased.

  “The fatal wound is here.” Sandra pointed to the large slide. “Here we have a puncture directly into the main artery that pumps blood to the heart. This wound was so severe that it caused death within a few seconds.”

  “What kind of instrument would cause such a wound?” Karl inquired.

  “A knife or stiletto with a long, sharp blade. The blow would have to have been delivered with a great deal of force to pierce completely through, front to back. Additionally, the perpetrator thrust the weapon at the most opportune point to produce a mortal wound. The trajectory of the weapon bypassed the breastbone and other cartilage in the chest cavity, which allowed the knife to reach directly into the heart.”

  Sandra pointed to the two slides showing the heart from the front and the back. She pointed to a particular spot on the slide. “This is the point that a doctor probes with a long needle when a patient goes into cardiac arrest and it is necessary to enter the heart, thus bypassing those bony areas that I just explained.” She pointed again to the darker areas on the slide. “The weapon used in this case made the same kind of entry directly into the victim’s heart.”

  “Did you view other evidence in this case, Dr. Wilson?”

  “Yes, you asked me to examine a silver letter opener. I measured the blade, which was exceptionally long. It measured over six and one-quarter inches.”

  “Could this letter opener have caused the fatal wound in this victim?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Wilson. Your witness, Ms. Katz,” Karl said.

  I looked up from my notes. Tears were running down Lillian’s cheeks. Catherine had her arm around her and was pouring her a glass of water. I moved to the lectern.

  “Dr. Wilson, you may take your seat again. Before we begin, I see that you are referring to some notes or reports. May I examine what you are looking at?” I asked. There was no objection from the prosecutors, who were in another conference with each other. No doubt they were still trying to locate Maddie.

  “Yes, Ms. Katz. This is my summary report. It is a summary of my findings and notes in a short form,” Sandra said as she held out the paper.

  I took a minute to read the report. “Dr. Wilson, you have described the wounds, but you have not talked about where the perpetrator might have stood, based on the way the wound appeared. Have you formed any opinion about how the fatality occurred?”

  “Yes, I have. It is my opinion that the person who committed this crime may have surprised the victim. He may have been asleep or resting. That may account for the bump on the top of his head. He may have sat up suddenly. The defensive palm wounds followed by the wound to his arm may have thrown him back on the bed. Finally, the fatal wound must have been struck with a great deal of force.”

  “What suggests this to you?”

  “The weapon punctured the artery and left an exit cut on the victim’s back. Additionally, the way the weapon punctured the artery in a straight-line trajectory shows that the perpetrator would have to have been standing above the victim, and would have to have been a tall individual to wield so much power.

  The bed where the victim was found was a high, antique-type bed with an iron headboard, so a short person couldn’t have maintained the velocity and power to inject such a straight path to the artery.”

  “Could the person have been on the bed with the victim?’

  “It seems unlikely, as the victim was found on the edge of the bed facing the writing desk. According to the initial reporting officers, he had fallen to his side almost off the bed.”

  “Mrs. Yarmouth, would you stand up, please?”

  Lillian looked at me with a frown and slowly stood up.

  “Come around to the front of the table, please,” I said. “How tall are you?”

  “I’m five feet three inches,” Lillian said.

  “You seem taller. Would you remove the shoes you are wearing?”

  Lillian stepped out of her black pumps. In her stocking feet, she appeared very small.

  “Is Mrs. Yarmouth tall enough to have inflicted the wound the way you have described it?”

  The medical examiner laughed. “I wouldn’t think so unless she was leaping like a ballerina. And, by the way, I think Mrs. Yarmouth is stretching her height a bit. She looks more like five feet two inches. You know I measure a lot of bodies.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Wilson. I have no further questions. Oh, and here is your report. Thank you for letting me read it. I see that you have described in this report the way the wound was inflicted.”

  Karl Morris was on his feet. He didn’t even bother to return to the lectern. From his table, he asked, “Ms. Wilson, you don’t know that the defendant didn’t murder her husband, do you?”

  “I don’t know who the murderer was, sir. I can only describe the facts that I found in my examination, but it’s hard to imagine a woman that small making such a wound with that trajectory.”

  “You may be excused, Dr. Wilson,” Judge Arnold said. “Call your next witness, Mr. Morris.”

  “Your Honor, the state has still not located Ms. Rodriguez. She was to be our last witness. If we do locate her, can we call her after the defense witnesses?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” the judge said. Are you ready with your first witness, Defense?”

  “My paralegal is moving the witnesses to the courtroom area now, Judge. My first witness is Cassie Kahn.”

  “While we are waiting, let’s take another short break. The court reporter looks like her fingers are sore.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The people in the public area pushed their way toward the door, heading for the restrooms and the coffee shop. Lillian stood in a circle with Brett and Sherry. I looked back to smile at Carlos when I spotted Jason Jimenez-Jones, the elected state attorney. He was sitting several rows back, blending with the rest of the peanut gallery. He must be here to spy on his assistants and make sure they don’t cause him bad headlines, I thought.

  I actually liked and respected Jason. I worked on his election campaign because I believed that he would be fair to my clients. Now I felt disappointed. Nothing had been fair about the case against Lillian. The State had stonewalled discovery and had filed the heaviest charge against Lillian with a threat of the death penalty.

  I strolled back to Jason. He stood up as I approached. “Well, Mary, are the fireworks about to begin?” he asked.

  “I’
m glad you’re here, Jason. You can hear firsthand how your office has screwed up.” I smiled and moved back to where Carlos stood. I needed a reassuring hug, which I got along with, “Go get ’em, tiger. I’ll be right here cheering, but quietly, of course.”

  Catherine returned in minutes with Cassie in tow. Cassie had done herself up to perfection. She was dressed in a black designer suit, a white sheer blouse with a low-cut neckline, and a small diamond pendant on a gold chain. Her hair was newly cut in a shiny rounded style. I hoped her testimony was as good as her appearance. Judge Arnold looked down approvingly from his vantage point on the bench as Cassie settled herself in the witness chair. He seemed fixated on the cleavage.

  “Ms. Kahn, where do you live?”

  “On Bayshore Drive in Coconut Grove.”

  “Do you know the Yarmouth family?”

  “Yes, we’ve been neighbors for at least fifteen years.”

  “Do you see Lillian Yarmouth in the courtroom?”

  “Sure, she’s right there, next to the girl who brought me into the courtroom, and there are her children, Brett and Sherry, in the row right behind her. Well, they’re really not children anymore, but you know, we always think of them as children.”

  I interrupted her. My instructions to just answer the questions must have made no impression on her. “I want you to think back to the day that Gary Yarmouth died. Do you recall that day?”

  “Vividly. So much happened.”

  “When did you first see Lillian that day?”

  “It was in the morning. She was in her garden and I went over to invite her to our house Sunday evening for cocktails. She told me her kids were coming home for the weekend from college. She was very excited and happy. She was such a devoted mother.”

  “Did you see her any more that day?”

  “Yes, I was sunning by my pool in the afternoon when I saw her drive into her garage. I noticed how nice her Lexus looked. I waved, and she waved back.”

  I removed a photograph from the envelope and showed it to the prosecutor.

  Karl stood up. “I object to this, Judge. I don’t even know what it is. It’s houses and yards.”