“Need anything?”
I shook my head. “Brought my own. Thanks though.”
Danny, Hank, Lindsey, and Cyn went to get something to eat. I took my bag lunch and my trial notebook and went to find a quiet place to finish getting ready for the cross-examination of Carrefour’s Chief Detective of Serious Crimes, Mitch Pearson.
The man who was going to try to bury my client. And me.
26
“Welcome back, members of the jury,” said Judge Gallon. As severe as she could be when scolding a defendant or an out-of-line lawyer, Judge Gallon was charming when she met with voters and jurors, and she was now. “Thank you for coming back on time. The prosecution will now begin its case. Mr. Hanson?”
“Your Honor, the prosecution calls Detective Mitch Pearson.”
Pearson stood from his seat in the back of the courtroom and made his way to the front. There was no question that Pearson had picked his seat in the back so that all eyes would be on him for a longer time as he walked to the witness box. Pearson made a slow turn at the witness chair, straightened his suit, and sat down. He unbuttoned his suit coat so that the gun in his shoulder holster and the badge at his belt were clearly visible, then folded his large hands in front of him.
Jeff shambled up to the podium with his usual self-deprecating nonchalance and gave a casual wave toward the jury. “Sir, could you please introduce yourself to the jury?”
“Detective Mitch Pearson.”
Jeff smiled. “It seems to me that you're being modest, Detective Pearson. Please tell the jury your full title.”
Pearson shrugged and smiled in a humble way that I'd never seen from him in real life. “Chief Detective for Serious Crimes, Carrefour Ohio Police Department.”
“Thank you, Chief Detective Pearson. You are employed then by the Carrefour Police Department?”
“I am.”
“And what is your job?”
“I'm in charge of investigating any serious crime that occurs in Carrefour, Ohio.”
“And what falls into the category of serious crimes?”
“Arson, robbery, rape, burglary, murder.”
“I thought I was going to have to ask you specifically there but you said it. You are in fact in charge of murder investigations in Carrefour?”
“The Ohio side, yes, sir.”
“Were you involved in the investigation of the death of Dillon Chase?”
“I was.”
“What was your role in that investigation?”
“Lead investigator.”
“And when did you become involved as the lead investigator?”
“On the night of the murder.”
I stood. “Objection, Your Honor.”
“Sustained,” said Judge Gallon. “The detective will refrain from making legal conclusions.”
“Of course,” said Pearson. “My apologies, Your Honor.”
Judge Gallon looked over her glasses at Pearson. “You don’t need to apologize to me, Detective. Just don't do it.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“How did you become involved that night?” said Jeff.
“On the night Dillon Chase was killed, I received a call to go to the University Marriott. Once there, I was directed to the penthouse suite.”
Jeff smiled. “We have a penthouse in Carrefour?”
The jury chuckled.
Pearson smiled. “Apparently. I took the elevator and entered the suite. Once there, I found Mr. Braggi and the body of the man I would learn was Dillon Chase.”
“Was Mr. Chase alive?”
“He was not.”
“Would you describe the scene for me please, Detective?”
“Sure. The body of the victim was lying in the middle of the suite floor. His arms were twisted and his face was unrecognizable.”
“Why is that, Detective?”
“Because his face was smashed and broken and covered in blood. We learned who he was at the scene from his driver’s license. The victim was covered in blood and blood was covering many of the surfaces in the room.”
“And was Mr. Braggi there?”
“He was. We found Mr. Braggi sitting in one of the chairs.”
“And what did Mr. Braggi look like?”
“He was covered in blood too.”
“Was he injured?”
“Not that I could see.”
“Could you describe his appearance a bit more please?”
“Sure.” Pearson looked at the jury now. “His hands were covered almost completely with blood. He was wearing a short-sleeve shirt and the blood extended up his forearms to his elbows. It was so solid that it looked like he’d dipped his arms in red paint. It was on his clothes too. The front of his shirt had numerous blood spatters on it with one broad swipe which we believe was from when he lifted the victim up.”
Jeff nodded solemnly. “Anything else?”
“His face and beard were covered in blood as well.”
“His mouth?”
“Yes, there was blood around his mouth.”
“His boots?”
“Yes, there was blood on his boots, both on the toes and the heels.”
“Was that in spatters?”
“No. It was solid, consistent with kicking and stomping.”
“Did you investigate who killed Mr. Chase?”
“I did. It took less than a minute.”
“How so?”
“Officers on the scene had already Mirandized and cuffed the defendant. I read him his rights again and asked him what had happened.” Pearson paused. “Mr. Braggi said to me, ‘I killed the little piss-ant.’”
Jeff paused, nodded, and looked at the jury. “Did you find any evidence that that was the case?”
Pearson cocked his head. “Besides him telling me that he did it?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Braggi was covered in blood. His hands were slick with it. His knuckles were scraped. His elbows and boot toes and boot heels all had markings of blood that were consistent with delivering blows. Do you want me to list more?”
“Not just now. Did you take Mr. Braggi into custody?”
“I didn’t personally. I had a patrolman take Mr. Braggi to the station for processing while I stayed and completed the investigation at the scene.”
“I see. Did you take photos?”
“I supervised the taking of photos.”
“Good. I’m handing you what's been marked as State’s Exhibits 22-38. Would you identify them for the jury, please?”
He leafed through the pictures. “These are the photos of the hotel suite that were taken that night.”
“Let's go through them then. Let's start with Exhibit 22. Please tell the jury what that is.”
“That is the corner of a dresser.”
“And what is the significance of that?”
“The corner is covered in blood. And that spot right there? That's a wad of hair.”
As Pearson picked up each photo, Jeff put a blowup of the photo on the easel right in front of the jury.
“And Exhibit 23?”
“That's the TV set. The screen is broken.”
“Is there anything significant about the broken screen besides the damage to the hotel room?”
“Yes. That's blood and hair on the shards of glass.”
“And Exhibit 24?”
“That's the wall next to the bathroom.”
“And is that a dent in the wall?”
“Yes. We determined that it was head-shaped.”
It went on like this for one photo after the next, sixteen in all. I listened, and I kept my face straight, and then nodded at times as if confirming that's exactly what I would expect the photos to show. I watched the jury. They were all paying attention. I didn't see a significant reaction from them until Pearson got to Exhibit 33. It was a photo of the tile entryway to the suite. There was a pool of blood, complete with a swirl of footprints and a scattering of teeth—one whole, three fragments. The Retired Math Teacher wi
nced.
“Did you determine whose teeth those were?” said Jeff.
“I didn't but—”
I stood. “Objection, Your Honor.”
Judge Gallon nodded. “The witness may only testify as to what he knew or did.”
Pearson's eyes hooded a little bit. “I did not hear that the tooth came from the victim at that time.”
“Detective Pearson.” Judge Gallon's voice cracked like a whip. “Do that again and you’re going to get reacquainted with some people you've put away recently.”
Pearson ducked his head. “My apologies, Your Honor.” With his head bowed, Judge Gallon couldn't see the small smile.
“Now, I understand that you took more photos than these sixteen,” said Jeff.
“We did.”
“What is significant about these sixteen?”
“They are representative of the damage in and around the suite.”
“How so?”
“These sixteen pictures show that every wall and every piece of furniture in the main room had blood, hair, or bone on it.”
“Detective Pearson, you investigate crime scenes as part of your occupation?”
“I do.”
“How many crime scenes have you investigated over the course of your career?”
“It's in the thousands.”
“You have experience in determining what happens from the evidence that's left behind?”
“I do.”
“Based on your examination of the hotel suite, did you reach a conclusion regarding how Mr. Chase was killed?”
“I did.”
“And what is that conclusion?”
“That the person who killed Mr. Chase banged his body and his head into every piece of furniture, every wall, and every hard surface in that room.”
“And were you able to reach a conclusion about the force used to create that damage in the hotel suite?”
“I am.”
“And what is that conclusion?”
I stood. “Objection, Your Honor. Foundation.”
Judge Gallon looked at me for a moment before she said, “Overruled. Go ahead, Detective Pearson.”
“That the force was enough to shatter glass, dent drywall, and break wood.”
“And you found sixteen instances of this? Of these blows into the walls and furniture?”
“No,” said Pearson.
Jeff turned back to him. “No?”
“There were more.”
Jeff nodded his head as if he hadn't known what Pearson was going to say and walked slowly around the lectern to the far side of the jury, being sure to cross in front of the picture of the pool of blood and the fragments of teeth.
“So you said that at this point that Mr. Braggi had been taken into custody?”
“Yes.”
“Was anyone else still in the room?”
“Yes. Ms. Saint and Mr. Smoke.”
“Were you able to talk to either of them?”
“I took a statement from Mr. Smoke. Ms. Saint was not interested in talking at that moment. She was quite upset.”
“Was Mr. Smoke able to tell you what happened?”
I would normally object to Pearson saying what other witnesses had told him. But I needed to get some of this information in and I couldn’t put Hank on the stand to do it so I let him roll.
Pearson nodded. “He told us that he had gone to the bathroom and when he came back, Mr. Braggi was in the room, covered in blood and yelling.”
“Did he report anything else?”
“He said that he saw Mr. Braggi throw Mr. Chase to the ground, kick him, pick him up again, and smash him over his knee.”
“Anything else?”
“He said it continued until screamed at Mr. Braggi to stop, that Ms. Saint was okay.”
“And what happened then?”
“He said Mr. Braggi was holding Mr. Chase out in front of him when he screamed. As soon as he did, Mr. Braggi froze momentarily and then flung Mr. Chase to the ground. Then he just went over and sat in a chair.”
Jeff nodded. “Did you interview any other witnesses that night?”
“Not that night.”
“Later?”
Pearson nodded. “I interviewed Blake Purcell and Aaron Whitsel who had also been in the room.”
“Why hadn't they stayed? Like Jared Smoke did?”
Pearson was talking directly to the jury again. “They said they were scared. Mr. Whitsel in particular said that Mr. Braggi had tried to kill him.”
“Did you see any evidence that that was true?”
“I did.”
“And what was that?”
“When I interviewed him, Mr. Whitsel’s arm was broken and he had a black eye.”
“Did he say who did it?”
Pearson nodded. “Hank Braggi.”
“Now, Detective Pearson, last thing. I understand that the paramedics came as well?”
“They did.”
“Were you there when they entered?”
“I was.”
“Did they work on Mr. Chase?”
“If by work on you mean did they pack up his body, yes. If you mean did they tried to revive him, the answer is no. He was dead by the time we got there.” Pearson looked solemnly at the jury as he said it.
“Did you conduct any further investigation at the scene?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I had the body, I had witnesses, I had a confession, and I had the murder weapon. There was nothing else that needed to be done.”
Jeff turned back to Pearson in surprise. “You had the murder weapon?”
“I did,” said Pearson. “In custody. That man's fists and elbows and boots.”
“For the record, you are indicating the defendant, Hank Braggi?”
“I am.”
“No further questions, Your Honor.”
As Jeff ambled back to his seat, Judge Gallon said, “Mr. Shepherd?”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” I stood and went over to the lectern and moved it closer to Pearson, so I was centered right in the middle of the jury. I also pulled down the bloody pictures that Jeff had left up on the easel. “Do you mind, Mr. Hanson?”
“Oh, no, I'm sorry. Go ahead, Mr. Shepherd.” A bout of charming, absent-minded forgetfulness.
When I had stacked them and turned them so that their white backs were facing the jury, I said, “I'd introduce myself but we know each other, don't we, Mr. Pearson?”
“We do, Mr. Shepherd. Have for some time.”
“Mr. Pearson, you said you talked to my client when you arrived at the room, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And he told you that he killed Mr. Chase, didn't he?”
“He did.”
“And you interviewed him later at the police station, didn't you?”
“I did.”
“And he told you there that he killed Mr. Chase, didn't he?”
“He did.”
“In fact, every time you spoke to Mr. Braggi, he told you that he had killed Mr. Chase, right?”
“That's true.”
“You didn't have to investigate whether Mr. Braggi killed Mr. Chase because he told you upfront that he had, right?”
Pearson looked smug and certain. “That's what I said earlier, Mr. Shepherd.”
“You certainly did. Now, Mr. Braggi also told you why he attacked Mr. Chase, didn't he?
Hanson stood. “Objection, Your Honor. Hearsay.”
“Your Honor, the prosecution has solicited testimony that my client stated that he killed Mr. Braggi. I should be permitted to enter the entire statement.”
“Overruled,” said Judge Gallons. “Continue, Mr. Shepherd.”
“Do you remember the question, Mr. Pearson?”
Pearson’s eyes lit at that. “I remember it just fine, Mr. Shepherd. He did.”
“Mr. Braggi told you that Mr. Chase was injecting Ms. Saint while she was unconscious, didn't he?”
“That's hardly a justification for killing someone.”
“Your opinion is very interesting, Mr. Pearson, but that's not the question I asked you. The question was Mr. Braggi told you that Mr. Chase was injecting Lizzy Saint while she was unconscious, didn't he?”
“That's still not a reason—”
I stepped back and held out my hands. “Tell you what, Mr. Pearson. I'll take this slower. Mr. Braggi talked to you when you arrived in the room, didn't he?”
Pearson glowered but he said, “Yes.”
“And he told you that he killed Mr. Chase, didn't he?”
“Yes.”
“And he said that Mr. Chase was injecting Ms. Saint with a syringe, didn't he?”
A pause. “Yes.”
“And Mr. Braggi said that Ms. Saint was unconscious, didn't he.”
“We don't know—”
“I didn't ask you what you know, Mr. Pearson. I asked you if that's what Mr. Braggi said to you.”
Pearson ground his lantern jaw. “It is.”
I nodded and stepped back a little further. “Now Mr. Pearson as the Chief Detective in charge of Serious Crimes in Carrefour, Ohio, you investigated the scene in the hotel room, right?”
“I did.”
“And you were thorough?”
“Yes.”
“You supervised the taking of the pictures that you just showed the jury?”
“I did.”
“And you also collected evidence at the scene, didn't you?”
“I did.”
“Now Mr. Pearson, you were told at the scene by Mr. Braggi that Mr. Chase was injecting Lizzy Saint with heroin, weren’t you?”
“We just covered that, Mr. Shepherd. Remember?”
“So the answer is ‘yes?’”
“Yes.”
“And you found a syringe at the scene, didn't you?”
“I believe someone did.”
I went back to the evidence table and picked up a plastic bag with a syringe in it and held it up so the jury could see. “Mr. Pearson, I’m going to hand you what's been marked as State’s Exhibit 48. Can you identify that for the jury, please?”
Pearson took the plastic bag from me. “It's a syringe.”
“And that’s the syringe that was recovered at the scene, true?”
“It was.”
“And since it was recovered at the scene, that syringe has been under the care and custody of the Carrefour police department, right?”
“Right.”
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