I rub my temple. "Can you believe this?" Rosie says.
"At this point, I'll believe anything."
Henderson looks serious and asks, "Without divulging any confidences, how do you feel about the defense's case, Mort?"
"The defense has a lot of ground to cover, Morgan. But Michael Daley is a very good lawyer. I'm sure justice will prevail."
How insightful. "Turn it off," I say. "Just turn the damned thing off. I can't stand it."
Grace looks at me. In between bites of cereal, she says, "Are you okay, Daddy?"
Oops. "Yeah, sweetie. Everything's fine." Daddy has a slight case of indigestion.
It's overcast, but not raining, when we reach the throng of reporters at the Hall.
"Mr. Daley, are you going to consider a plea bargain?" "Mr. Daley, is it true Mr. Goldberg was fired?" "Mr. Daley, does Mr. Friedman's affair change your defense?" "Mr. Daley? Mr. Daley? Mr. Daley?"
I feel like screaming, "Shut the fuck up, you assholes." Naturally, I simply look composed as Rosie and I push our way past them and meet Joel and his parents just inside the doors.
"Naomi is in the bathroom," Joel says. "She said she'd meet us upstairs."
Rabbi Friedman glances at me. "Looks like it's up to you, Michael."
"We'll just keep going, Rabbi."
We go upstairs and take our seats. Skipper says blandly, "I understand we have a change in the lineup today."
"Yeah. We decided to trim some of the fat."
He grins.
Joel leans over and whispers, "You ready?"
I don't have time to think of all the things I would have done differently. With hindsight, I would have deferred our opening statement until now. I might have had a chance to undo some of the damage. "You bet," I reply. "Now we get to tell our side of the story."
Before the jury is called in, Judge Chen turns to me and says, "I understand there's been a change in the team at the defense table."
"Yes, Your Honor," I reply. "Mr. Goldberg won't be with us for the remainder of the trial."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see McNulty whisper to Skipper. Judge Chen nods. "Very well," she says. "Let's proceed." She instructs Harriet Hill to bring in the jury. I didn't expect her to stop the trial just because Mort's gone. He hasn't said a word to the jury, anyway.
"Please call your first witness, Mr. Daley."
"The defense calls Dr. Robert Goldstein."
Mort's brother-in-law, Bob Goldstein, is a professor at UCSF Medical Center. His physical appearance might be described as the anti-Mort. He's in his late sixties, with a full head of gleaming silver hair and dazzling blue eyes. He glides his six-foot-four-inch frame across the courtroom with the grace of a senior squash champion. His double-breasted light gray suit matches his hair. A tasteful white kerchief sits in his breast pocket. He looks like he'd be right at home in a boardroom or a country club. The Rolex and gold cufflinks suggest he's very successful and probably very rich. Pound for pound, he can hold his own with Skipper in the charisma derby.
He's sworn in and takes his place on the witness stand. He casually adjusts the microphone. He knows his way around a courtroom and he knows how to work an audience. From what I gather, he and Mort don't get along very well. Mort says he isn't the kind of doctor you'd call if you're sick. On the other hand, he is the kind of doctor you'd call if you need someone to testify.
He states his name for the record. He smiles knowingly at the jury. On someone else, it would appear condescending. "I'm a full professor in the departments of Pathology and Trauma Surgery at UCSF Medical School."
I begin taking him through his impressive credentials. We get through his undergraduate degree at Stanford and his medical degree from Johns Hopkins when Skipper interrupts us. "We'll stipulate to Dr. Goldstein's expertise," he says.
Goldstein smiles. The two lawyers on the jury seem to nod to each other. I hand him copies of Beckert's autopsy reports. "Dr. Goldstein," I say, "are you familiar with the autopsy reports prepared by Dr. Roderick Beckert with respect to Mr. Robert Holmes and Ms. Diana Kennedy?"
"Yes. I have reviewed both reports very carefully."
Skipper starts to stand, then he sits down. He's a little jumpy today.
"Would you be kind enough to tell us whether you agree with Dr. Beckert's conclusions?"
"Objection. There's no foundation for this."
"Your Honor," I say, "Mr. Gates just stipulated on the record that Dr. Goldstein is, in fact, an expert. He did not object when I asked Dr. Goldstein whether he had reviewed the reports. Certainly, he can't object when I ask Dr. Goldstein for his opinion as to the validity of the conclusions in the reports. Why else would I call him to the stand?"
Judge Chen isn't buying into this completely. "I'll overrule the objection for now. But Dr. Goldstein better be prepared to explain his conclusions."
"He will." I turn back to Goldstein. "You were going to tell us your views on the autopsy reports."
"I have reviewed both reports. I have known and worked with Rod Beckert for many years. We are colleagues on the UCSF faculty in the Department of Pathology. I respect him."
You also have more titles than he does, Bob, but don't lay it on too thick just yet.
"In the case of the autopsy of Ms. Kennedy," he continues, "I think Rod got it absolutely right. She never had a chance." He explains in both medical and layman's terms that she died of gunshot wounds to her lung and heart.
"And the autopsy report on Mr. Holmes?"
He looks at the jury and grimaces. "That's where I have a problem with Dr. Beckert's conclusions. There's no doubt Mr. Holmes died from massive trauma from a gunshot wound to his head. However, I have very serious doubts about Rod's conclusion that Mr. Holmes was knocked unconscious prior to the shootings. In fact, I would go so far as to say that I believe Rod was wrong."
I glance at the jury. They seem to like him so far. I'll have to ask Rosie when we're done.
"Would you mind explaining your conclusions, Doctor?" I'm taking a chance. It may be better to lead him with short, precise questions. On the other hand, at our rehearsal—I mean our trial preparation—he was able to explain some very complicated concepts in terms that I could understand.
"Of course," he says. He looks at Rosie. "I wonder if we could look at the autopsy photos."
Rosie sets up the easel and puts an enlarged picture of the left side of Bob's head in front of the jury. Dr. Goldstein turns to the judge and asks whether he can stand by the picture so he can point out certain items. He speaks to her in a tone that suggests they're old friends. She agrees.
He buttons his suit jacket as he walks toward the easel. He takes a thin gold pen out of his pocket. "Ladies and gentlemen," he says to the jury, "we're looking at an autopsy photograph of the left side of the head of Mr. Holmes. For your reference, here's the outer edge of the skull." He makes a sweeping circular motion with the pen. The jurors look at the photo. Goldstein studies the jurors one by one. As I instructed him, he looks at the phone company supervisor at the end of the second row and points to her. "Madam, can you see all right?"
She says, "Yes."
"And can everybody hear me? I hate using microphones."
They nod in unison. Mort was right. This guy is smoother than good scotch.
He turns to the photo and draws an imaginary circle around the exit wound just above Bob's left ear. "This area here is called the parietal bone. As you're all aware," he says, "here's where the bullet came out. We call it the exit wound. Although we don't have a picture of it here, the entrance wound was, as you know, in the right parietal bone, just above the right temple." He's striking a perfect balance between knowledgeable and folksy. The accountant is looking receptive. "Everybody with me so far?"
They all nod again. Skipper stands. "Your Honor," he says, "would you please instruct Dr. Goldstein not to ask questions of members of the jury. This isn't his anatomy class at UC."
Judge Chen looks annoyed. "If that was an objection," she say
s, "I'll have to sustain it." She turns to Goldstein and says gently, "Please answer the questions Mr. Daley asks you, Dr. Goldstein. Please don't ask the jury any questions."
"Yes, Your Honor."
I say, "Dr. Goldstein, you were describing the exit wound."
"Yes." He looks at the photo. He describes the wound in detailed medicalese for the next five minutes. Then he interprets in language Grace could understand. "As you can plainly see," he concludes, "the trauma to the head was massive."
"Were you able to make a determination about the accuracy of Dr. Beckert's conclusion that the wound may not have been self-inflicted?"
"Objection, Your Honor. He's leading the witness."
No, I'm not. I give the judge a puzzled look. "Your Honor," I say, "that wasn't a leading question." Skipper is trying to break Goldstein's rhythm.
"You're right, Mr. Daley. Overruled."
Goldstein says, "In my judgment, Rod was wrong. I believe the wound was self-inflicted."
Murmurs in the back of the courtroom. This shouldn't be a news flash to anybody. Did they think my medical expert was going to agree with Beckert? Judge Chen pounds her gavel. I ask Goldstein to explain his conclusion.
"I am certain Mr. Holmes fired the gun." He says that gunpowder residue was found on Bob's right hand. "There's no other way he could have gotten gunpowder on his hand, unless, of course, he happened to fire another gun the same day." This brings mild chuckles from the gallery.
"Isn't it possible that someone may have placed the gun in his hand while he was unconscious and caused him to fire it? Wouldn't that generate the same chemical residue on his hand?" I'm trying to mitigate Skipper's argument that somebody knocked Bob unconscious, placed the gun in his hand and caused him to pull the trigger, making it look like a suicide.
"Yes. But that assumes that Mr. Holmes was unconscious at the time the gun was fired."
"Was there any evidence that Mr. Holmes was unconscious at the time the gun was fired?"
"No." He pauses. "I have all the respect in the world for Rod Beckert. I've known him for many years. But this time around, I think he's just flat wrong."
I pretend to study the picture of Bob's head. I'm actually glancing at the jury. I was hoping I'd get a little more than the halfhearted reactions I'm seeing. "Could you please explain why you believe Dr. Beckert's conclusion was wrong?"
"Certainly, Mr. Daley." He explains that the report indicated that Holmes wasn't under the influence of drugs, and the amount of alcohol in his system was so small he couldn't have been prosecuted for a DUI charge. As a result, he ruled out the possibility that he was rendered unconscious by the use of any chemical substance.
He turns back to the photo. "Consequently," he says, "it seems the only way Mr. Holmes would have been rendered unconscious would have been through a blow to his head." He points to a spot just above the top of the exit wound. "This is the area where Dr. Beckert claims there was a major concussive wound. In fact, the blow to the skull, if there indeed was such a blow, wasn't nearly as traumatic as Dr. Beckert says. It certainly wasn't enough to render him unconscious."
I try to look skeptical. "How can you be sure, Dr. Goldstein?"
"For one thing, it's small. It's less than a quarter of an inch in diameter. It's not as though somebody hit him with a hammer. There was no significant contusion. More importantly, Dr. Beckert took X rays of Mr. Holmes's head. There was no skull fracture. It was probably caused when the head banged against the desk immediately after he shot himself." He pauses. "Let me put it this way. If he was a football player and he sustained such an injury, he wouldn't have left the game. Based on my best medical judgment, it is my opinion that he fired the gun and that he took his own life."
"Dr. Goldstein," I say, "you understand that Dr. Beckert concluded that the injury could not have been sustained after the shooting because the hematoma, or bump, could not have formed after the shooting."
He smiles. "In general, that's true. A hematoma cannot form once the heart stops beating because it cannot pump blood to the injured area. However, in circumstances such as this where there is a wound to the head, the heart may continue to beat for seconds or even minutes after the shooting. As a result, it is likely that the hematoma was caused when Mr. Holmes bumped his head on the desk after he'd shot himself."
"No further questions, Your Honor."
Skipper's up like a shot. "Dr. Goldstein," he says, "you didn't examine the body, did you?"
"No."
"And you didn't have an opportunity to question Dr. Beckert, did you?"
"No."
"And isn't it likely that Dr. Beckert's exam was more comprehensive than yours?"
Watch out, Bob. I've warned him to deflect hypothetical questions.
"Of course, Mr. Gates. Dr. Beckert had the body in front of him when he performed the autopsy. I've been working off photos and X rays."
"Well, Dr. Goldstein, wouldn't it seem to make more sense in this context to rely on Dr. Beckert's description of the wounds than yours?"
"Objection. Speculative."
"Sustained."
"I'll rephrase. Don't you think Dr. Beckert's descriptions of the wounds would be more reliable than yours given the fact that he was observing the body as he performed the autopsy?"
"Objection. Still speculative."
"Sustained."
Surely he's going to do more than just ask Goldstein to agree with Beckert. On the other hand, if he gets into hand-to-hand combat, Goldstein will probably hold his ground. If I were in Skipper's shoes, I wouldn't push too hard. The jury understands Goldstein is our hired gun.
They joust for another twenty minutes. They argue about the blow to the head. Goldstein doesn't give an inch. "Dr. Goldstein," Skipper finally says, "are you being paid to testify today?"
"Yes I am."
"And how much are you being paid?"
Goldstein looks at me. This is a standard question. If Skipper can't shake him, at least he can try to show that we've bought his medical opinion, which, of course, we have. Unfortunately, we're paying him a lot of money.
"Four hundred fifty dollars an hour." Then he adds, sarcastically, "Plus two dollars to ride the streetcar each way." A smattering of laughter breaks out in the back of the courtroom.
"And how many hours have you spent on this case?"
"Counting today, about fifty."
Skipper looks at the jury and nods melodramatically. "So, they were able to buy your medical opinion for about twenty-five thousand dollars?"
"Objection. Argumentative."
"Sustained."
Skipper pouts briefly. "No further questions, Your Honor."
As Goldstein steps down, Joel whispers, "That went pretty well, didn't it?"
I nod. Thanks, Mort. I hope you get good ratings tonight.
Our next witness is Dr. Greta Hudson, a dignified black woman who is a professor at USC. She used to be one of the top evidence technicians in the FBI crime lab. She's written several texts on evidentiary issues. We decided to go out of town for our expert on guns and fingerprints to make it tougher on Skipper's team to learn much about her. In all honesty, we picked a black woman because we thought she'd play well to the jury.
After she states her name for the record, I ask her if she's a medical doctor.
"No," she replies. "I'm a Ph.D. in the field of criminology. My area of expertise is forensics and, in particular, the gathering and analysis of physical evidence. I've written extensively on the subject of fingerprints. I'm also an expert on certain types of firearms, including revolvers."
Just the way we rehearsed it. We spend a few minutes going over her credentials before Skipper stipulates to her expertise.
In response to my question concerning Bob's position when he was shot, she explains that the trajectory of the bullet and the blood-splatter patterns on Bob's desk indicate that he was sitting at a ninety-degree angle to his desk, with his left side closest to the desk. He slumped to the floor, possibly banging th
e left side of his head against his desk.
"Dr. Hudson," I say, "were you able to make a determination as to whether Mr. Holmes or Ms. Kennedy was shot first?" I want to show Bob died last. If he died first, it doesn't look like a suicide.
"Yes," she replies. She explains that the tattooing at the entrance wound indicates that the barrel of the gun was placed against Bob's head. In such circumstances, a vacuum is created when the gun is fired, which sucks a minute amount of blood into the barrel of the gun. "If the last shot fired from the gun was the shot that killed Mr. Holmes," she says, "there would be traces of his blood in the barrel of the gun. Of course, if the gun was fired again to kill Ms. Kennedy, the traces of blood in the barrel would have been cleared out and no traces of his blood would have been found."
"Were any traces of Mr. Holmes's blood found in the barrel?" I ask.
"Yes," she replies. "As a result, I concluded that the last shot fired from this weapon was the shot that killed Mr. Holmes."
Good answer. I take the revolver from the evidence cart and hand it to her. "Dr. Hudson," I say, "have you reviewed the police reports and the lab reports concerning this weapon?"
"Yes."
"In particular, did you have an opportunity to review the fingerprint analysis prepared by the crime lab?"
"Yes, I did."
I signal to Rosie. She puts an enlarged diagram showing all sides of the revolver on the easel in front of the jury. I ask Dr. Hudson to give the jury a summary of the fingerprint report.
Skipper objects. "Your Honor, the report on this weapon has already been entered into evidence. Surely we don't need Dr. Hudson to restate the entire report."
Actually, I want her to do just that—and to put our spin on it. "Your Honor," I say, "the prosecution has had its turn. If Mr. Gates has a problem with Dr. Hudson's analysis, he can take it up on cross-examination."
"Overruled."
I restate my question. Dr. Hudson looks at the jury. She asks Judge Chen for permission to leave the witness box so she can point out various items. Then she uses her pointer to show exactly where Joel's fingerprints were found, carefully noting that only unidentifiable, smudged fingerprints were found on the trigger of the gun.
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