by ANDREA SMITH
“I hope to God your father’s suite's the other side of the house,” he said, throwing his arm across his sweaty forehead.
I giggled snuggling up to him for warmth.
“It is,” I assured him. “I just hope we didn’t wake the baby." As if on cue we heard Preston’s chattering from her room. “Pee-pee Mama,” she whined loudly.
“Well,” I said getting my panties and nightgown on, “she’s either wet her pull-up or she has to pee.”
“I’ve got this baby,” Trey said launching out of bed and pulling his boxers on.
I fell back against the pillows and pulled the covers up over me as Trey went to her. He carried Preston through our room talking to her convincing her to hold it until he could get her to her potty. She was jabbering away at him.
I heard them in the bathroom; Trey was praising her for being a big girl and going in the potty. She came bounding out of the bathroom climbing up on the bed with me and snuggling against me. Trey finished up in the bathroom; I heard the toilet flush as he came back into the bedroom. He pulled a tee shirt on over his head and then climbed back into bed. We fell asleep again with Preston snuggled between us.
CHAPTER 12
On Monday morning Trey and I were on our way to the court house in Baton Rouge where the prosecution’s case against Matthew Renaud would commence. Trey was driving Danny’s truck that belonged to my father’s estate unbeknownst to me. It was a bit weird to be back in the same truck with Trey at the wheel this time.
Trey had been so attentive and gentle with me since our reunion. We couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. I could tell my father was pleased that we'd worked things out. We'd cuddled and slept curled around each other peacefully the night before. Both of us were well-rested on Monday in preparation for the first day of prosecution evidence and testimony.
Edie was caring for Preston today. They got along so well. Edie told me she hoped to have a baby just like Preston someday.
“Trey, what can we expect today on the first day of the prosecution’s case?” I asked.
“Well, sweetie, it sort of depends on the evidence. I'd suspect since your mom’s death happened so long ago and Maggie’s more recently they're are going to draw some sort of connection based on forensic evidence with what evidence they gathered from the metal box contained in your mother’s casket. Hopefully - and I don’t know anything for certain - your mom left a clue as to what they needed to look for in order to draw that connection all of these years later.”
The courtroom was not all that crowded when Trey and I arrived there. I was on ‘special alert’ to see if the thick-ankled Ms. Deeny would be making an appearance.
Matthew was paraded into the court room next to his public defender still shackled but wearing a dress shirt and dress pants in place of the prison garb he'd worn at his arraignment.
He still had that wide-eyed demented look going which I knew my father would say was a ‘fake.’
“Is that the same guy you saw in Jackson?” I whispered to Trey.
“It is,” he answered, shaking his head affirmatively.
The proceedings started with the District Attorney identifying the first of the prosecution exhibits to be marked. It happens to be the post-burial autopsy of one Marla Nicole Renaud, age 19, and date of death May 4, 1991.
Oh my God!
I just realized that my mother had passed away on the same day and month that Preston had been born twenty-one years later!
I looked over at Trey quickly; he'd picked up on that as well. He clasped my hand into his and held it gently. The D.A. presented several more items into evidence which were quickly recorded and marked as the prosecution’s exhibit number this or that.
Once that was established, the first witness was called. It was a Dr. Robin Lebeau, Director of Forensic Toxicology at Tulane Medical Center in New Orleans, Louisiana. He was sworn in by the bailiff and was seated to start offering his testimony.
The D.A. had him review the forensic findings in the autopsy that was conducted on my mother. This was extremely tedious with the D.A. carefully documenting on a white board that the jury could see the types of tissue sampling that was done; the chain of custody and preservation techniques of those samples and then the ultimate findings. I wanted him to cut to the chase.
The questioning finally went to the direction of what had been found. The doctor testified that in 7 out of 10 tissue samples taken and processed from my mother there was a presence of cerebra odollam of 60%; passiflora caerulea of 20%; phytolacca of 10%; and agro stemma githago of 10%.
It all sounded like a foreign language to me. The D.A. asked the doctor to explain in layman’s terms what this various mixture of ingredients represented. Dr. Lebeau explained that all of these ingredients were indigenous to the Louisiana area; specifically the bayou areas.
He said that cerebra odollam were seeds from the commonly known ‘suicide tree.’ These seeds contain cerebrin which is a potent alkaloid toxin. It blocks the calcium ion channels in heart muscle causing disruption of the heartbeat.
The passiflora caerulea, commonly known as the Blue Passion flower, contains some levels of cyanide; the final ingredient called phytolacca which is also known as ‘pokeweed’, promotes nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, a difficult in breathing, severe convulsions and ultimately death.
“Dr. Lebeau, would these ‘bayou toxins,’ if you will, traditionally be identified during a post-mortem toxicology screen?”
“No, they wouldn't.”
“Would these ‘bayou toxins’ be identified during a full post-mortem where tissue samples of the various organs are sliced and analyzed for poisons?”
“No, they wouldn't.”
“But Doctor,” the prosecutor continued, “there have been hundreds of cases where autopsies have revealed death by poisoning by cyanide, strychnine, arsenic, atropine and others. What makes the poisons you've identified in your testimony different?”
“You have to know exactly what to look for in order to confirm the presence in tissue with a poisonous cocktail such as what I described for you earlier. This particular cocktail was ingested in small doses by the decedent over a period of weeks most likely. It wasn't an acute episode of poisoning but a chronic low dose poisoning over a period of time. The tissue slides showed various levels of concentration of the elements.”
“So if I understand you correctly, Doctor, the decedent in this case, Ms. Marla Renaud, would likely have endured a slow transition from feeling healthy to feeling quite ill?”
“That's correct,” Dr. Lebeau replied. “By the time she felt ill enough to seek help it likely would've been too late. Given the fact that most licensed medical practitioners would've initially treated her symptoms for illnesses such as influenza, anemia, pneumonia or even mononucleosis it would've proven useless in changing the course of events for her.”
“That course being death?”
“Yes,” Dr. Lebeau answered.
“Dr. Lebeau, I'd like to go back to your earlier testimony where you stated that during a post-mortem of this sort, the medical examiner would need to know exactly what to look for to confirm the presence of this toxic cocktail in the victim’s blood or tissue, is that correct?”
“It is.”
“In the particular forensic post-mortem conducted on the remains of Ms. Renaud, how did a forensic toxicologist, such as you, know what to look for in her tissue samples?”
“Ms. Renaud made it very easy for us. She was buried with a locked metal box which contained among other things sealed samples of the various seeds, powders and roots that had been purchased previous to her death. The authorities transferred the evidence into our custody for analysis. Once identified, we simply analyzed the tissue samples taken from Ms. Renaud and confirmed the presence of those poisons. Her cause of death was officially changed to homicide by poisoning.”
There was loud murmuring within the court. I watched as Matthew kept looking around as if waiting for someone to show up. The jud
ge banged his gavel on the bench.
The prosecutor had no further questions. The doctor remained on the stand while the defense attorney questioned him. He tried to establish the margin of error that could exist.
He grilled him on the possibility of contamination in the samples and the poisons. He asked about the degradation of my mother’s tissue through decomposition.
The doctor held his own stating how perfectly preserved my mother’s body was when he'd witnessed the coroner’s post-mortem. I didn’t feel the defense attorney scored anything with the jury. The judge called a short recess and the jury was escorted out before anyone else could leave. Trey and I left to go out into the hallway.
“Are you doing okay, sweetie?” he asked me.
“Yes, I’m fine. I wish Dad could've come here today. I’d like to see how he felt the witness did on the stand.”
Trey cocked an eyebrow at me.
“What?” I asked.
“So, my opinion doesn’t count now that you have a judge that loves you?”
“Oh,” I laughed, “I didn’t mean it like that, honey. Of course I want your opinion.”
“It’s a little too early to tell but I definitely think the forensic evidence presented established a clear-cut cause of death that's irrefutable. That’s a plus especially if they can link those poisons directly to Matthew. That'll be the tough part.”
“Do you think Matthew will take the stand?”
“Not if his lawyer has any sense. Though Matthew could insist on taking the stand in which case, anything's possible. They threw out the insanity plea bargain, so it could get interesting.”
Trey and I returned to the court room after the recess and the next witness was called to the stand. It was another expert witness. Her name was Dr. Pamela Waters and she was a forensic pathologist with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation Headquarters located in Decatur, Georgia. She was sworn in and took the stand.
The prosecutor questioned her about the post-mortem conducted on Ms. Maggie Preston. The witness explained that the initial cause of death had been listed as ‘pending’ on her death certificate.
“Why was ‘pending’ listed as the decedent’s cause of death?”
“Well,” she replied, “she officially died of respiratory failure, but medical conditions which would've been listed as secondary or contributing factors just didn't exist.”
“I see,” the prosecutor said. “At what point would the cause of death have been changed? In other words, by definition the word pending alludes that more investigation needed to be conducted to search for the actual cause. Is that correct?”
“Yes, it is. Our office had received notification that in the case of Ms. Maggie Preston, the official cause of death could be deferred pending the outcome of the impending exhumation of the decedent’s sister, Marla Renaud.”
“Do you have knowledge of where this notification originated?”
“Yes. It came directly from Judge Westfield.”
“Judge Westfield?”
“Yes sir. He's a district judge located in Jackson, Mississippi. Ms. Renaud’s burial site is in his jurisdiction. He'd apparently signed the order for exhumation at the request of Judge Preston Tylar, who was acting on behalf of his daughter and Ms. Marla Renaud’s next-of-kin, Tylar Sinclair.”
“No! I'm Marla’s next of kin!”
Everyone’s head snapped up and looked to where the screaming had originated. It was Matthew. His attorney was trying to get him calmed down. He'd twisted around in his chair. He eyes narrowed as he looked at me. He pointed his finger at me snarling.
“You aren’t her daughter!” he screamed at me. “You’re just someone pretending to be her daughter! My mama told me that!”
Oh my God! What the hell is he saying?
The judge was pounding his gavel on the bench calling for order. I'd buried myself into Trey’s chest sobbing. I felt him stand as he pulled me from my seat. He wrapped his arms around me and led me out of the courtroom into the hallway. He located a bench down one of the corridors and pulled me down next to him on it. I was still sobbing my hands covered my face.
“Hey, please don’t cry, honey. He’s full of shit or his mama is, sweetheart. He’s still playing the insanity card okay?”
Trey pulled his linen handkerchief from his pocket and started dabbing at my wet cheeks. Just then, we were approached by a woman with a portable microphone. She was dressed in a suit with the emblem of a local Baton Rouge television station on the lapel. The guy behind her was in jeans and an oxford shirt. He had a video camera on his shoulder and I noticed the green light was illuminated.
“Tylar Sinclair?” she greeted with a smile, “Jane Jessup here from WBRL Baton Rouge. Can we have a couple of minutes of your time?”
She didn’t wait for an answer as she fired off her first round.
“Isn't it true that you had your alleged mother’s dead body exhumed for the purpose of proving with DNA that you're indeed her daughter?”
“No, that’s not---”
“And isn’t it true that your mother was buried with evidence which purportedly named her murderer?”
“Get away from my wife and turn the camera off,” Trey ordered, shielding me from the guy with the video camera. “Now,” he said in his no-nonsense voice.
The guy switched it to pause; the red light was now blinking. He looked bored with the whole situation.
“You are?” she asked.
“I'm Trey Sinclair, her husband. My wife can’t speak to the media during this trial I’m afraid. She may be called to offer testimony after what just transpired in the court room. Please excuse us now.”
They both backed away as Trey took me by the arm and hustled me out of the courthouse. We didn’t speak until after we were in the truck and on the highway going back to my father’s estate. Trey finally reached his hand over to take mine into his.
“Are you alright, sweetie?”
“I’m just numb, Trey. I mean, where the hell did all of that come from in there?”
“I don’t know. It took me by surprise too. Someone's trying to direct the media focus off of Matthew for now by making it appear as if this is about something else.
“Yeah, I mean I look just like her, right?”
“Yes, you do. I think Matthew rattled you though. I think that's exactly what he intended to do.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure. Hell, maybe he is a nut; maybe that’s what his mother led him to believe. Who the hell knows with that bunch?”
“This has been a total nightmare from the start.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. What can I do to make you feel better?”
“I’m tired of not knowing for sure where I came from. I want this put to rest now. I want DNA testing to prove my dad is my dad and Marla is my mom.”
“You know,” he said slowly, “that's not a bad idea. If Matthew’s plan today was to make it look like the exhumation was an attempt to nail him for something that he'll then claim Maggie did, or that he wasn't approached as being the verified next of kin prior to the exhumation of your mother, we should have our ducks in a row.”
“I don’t understand. I mean a judge has the right to order an exhumation without permission of the family right?”
“Well, yes and no, depending upon the rules of civil and/or criminal procedure in the particular jurisdiction. My money is on the fact that Matthew's hoping through some loophole in the system with the various jurisdictions involved that he or his attorney I should say, can attempt to throw out all evidence and testimony relative to the findings on both post- mortems by citing due process wasn’t followed in the gathering of said evidence.”
“What? Trey that's what the grand jury used in order to indict him!”
“Exactly; but if in some way, his attorney's found some obscure loophole which would indicate that the ‘evidence’ was secured outside of the rules of procedure, it can be thrown out and the case could easily be dismissed.”
“Okay so what if that happens - can’t we then follow whatever rule of procedure that wasn’t followed before and once again gather the evidence? I mean, I hate the thought of disturbing my mother’s resting place again, but it'd be worth it to make sure that bastard is put away for life.”
“I’m afraid not. The 5th Amendment to the Constitution governs the principle of double jeopardy. This means that an acquittal due to a mistrial cannot be prosecuted a second time for the same criminal act if it's based on the same facts.”
Holy shit. I'm not feeling good about this at all!
“Look,” he said, “let’s not jump to conclusions on this. I really need to talk to your father about this and research the law library to understand which jurisdiction has ultimate authority. I mean your mother died in Louisiana; she's entombed in Mississippi; Maggie died in Georgia, but was likely poisoned in Mississippi. I hope your father's more familiar with all of this than I am.”