Josie cut him no slack. She asked what Ruth would ask if she had him on the stand and she saw what Ruth would love to see: surprise and caution were in Archer's dark eyes but he covered quickly.
"You'll say that no one saw Lexi getting hysterical in that room except me. She was afraid to die. She was afraid for Tim and she blamed me for not fixing it all. Nobody saw that. Everybody saw her being perfect and brave, but I saw her when she was scared shitless and crazy." Archer lowered his voice even further, making his directive seem almost like a threat. "And you'll say no one heard us apologize – both of us – because it was a private moment between my wife and me. You'll make the doctors at Greenwood testify that Tim wasn't the loveable retarded kid everybody wants to make him out. He hit another patient and gave him a black eye. He tried to hit me. I had to control him."
"And the other people will say you were hurting him," Josie countered.
"I was doing what a cop would do when faced with an out of control mental patient. That is what it boils down to: Lexi and those people at Greenwood never acknowledged that Tim was mental!"
Archer slapped at the table with both hands. His chains rattled and his face mottled with indignation. He didn't care who Josie had been to him; right now she was an enemy.
"Okay, Archer!" Josie hollered. She put the knuckles of one hand to her lips and took a minute. Time was precious and they were wasting it. She pulled her legal pad in front of her. "We're off track. What happened after you got back to your place?"
"Lexi packed her bag." Archer sniffed. He licked his lips. "I carried it to the car. I was a necessary evil that day. I drove and paid for things and carried stuff. It was Lexi's day with Tim. Maybe that's why I get so upset when I think about this. I was doing everything I could to make it a good day, Jo."
"Tell me if you touched him, Archer. Or if he touched you," Josie went on, riding roughshod over him.
Archer's head dipped. He flipped the cuffs dangling from the chains like he was tossing coins and knew he would never get head's up.
"Here's the truth, Josie, then I'm not going to talk about it anymore. The accident happened way too fast. Maybe Tim moved the wrong way and I thought he needed help. Maybe I put out my hand. Maybe my hand hit that harness the wrong way. It was like pulling your gun in a dark alley. You just do it when you sense it needs to happen. I reached for him and that's what you saw on the tape. Did I touch that harness and unlatch it? Did I try to catch him because he did it himself? I don't know, and I don't want to know. It would be tough knowing I did anything to cause that kid's death. But, if I did, there was no malice, there was no premeditation and that means there was no murder."
Josie took all this in like a professional, but her heart swelled with sympathy and understanding, and honest belief in Archer's innocence. In the next instant all that hope and faith was drained from her as surely as if Archer had lanced her wounded heart.
"Make sure they know that, Josie. Make sure you do your job."
CHAPTER 26
Ruth Alcott started the show off with a bang. Eric Stevens, ride operator on the fateful day Timothy Wren died, testified to things Josie already knew.
He noticed Timothy Wren.
Retarded people made him nervous.
Yeah, he recognized Archer.
The person who almost killed him a couple of weeks ago.
"We're talking about the day Tim Wren died, Mr. Stevens." Ruth rerouted her witness easily. "Tell us all about it."
Hot day. . .
Kid was crazy, but calmed down when he got to the platform. . .
Defendant pushed me away. Wouldn't let me do my job. He strapped the kid in. . .
He did it and the kid fell . . .
The kid died. . .
Ruth smiled. She passed the witness to Josie who managed to get Eric to admit that once, during a hazing, a safety latch had been released and the rider had not fallen to his death. He had been scared to death, but he had not fallen. Josie made Eric admit that Lexi had not seemed concerned that her husband was strapping Tim into his seat. Josie picked at Eric's recollections of that day until, finally, he testified that all he knew was that Archer had put the harness on Timothy Wren and checked it twice.
That, certainly, was not damaging testimony. What came next was a little more worrisome.
"Doctor Weber, could you describe your relationship to the deceased, Tim Wren?"
Ruth Alcott addressed her second witness. Doctor Weber was in his early sixties, a strawberry birthmark covered one side of his forehead and he touched it as if that would help him think.
"I was Greenwood's physician for some time. I saw Tim Wren intermittently for three years. I am both a pediatric psychiatrist and pediatrician. I specialize in dealing with children like Tim Wren."
Ruth clasped her hands and gave him a glowing smile as if thrilled that her star pupil was performing so well.
"And what was your assessment of Tim Wren?"
"If you mean would he ever progress past the mental capacity of a five year old, the answer is no. If you mean was he a well adjusted five year old in a teenager's body, the answer is still no. He was discouraged by his physical limitations. His mother coddled him so there was a bit of the spoiled child about Tim. That isn't unusual in situations such as this."
"What were the limitations that frustrated Tim?" Ruth asked.
"Specifically, his motor skills. He needed help dressing. He couldn't tie shoelaces. He could feed himself with a fork if the food was properly cut but he couldn't use a spoon or a knife effectively."
"So, it would be hard to imagine Tim actually opening his own harness buckle, would it not?"
"In my estimation, that would have been very surprising if not close to impossible," he assured her.
With a 'your witness' thrown at Josie, Ruth took her seat, snapping her elastic pants as she settled in. The doctor waited for Josie, seemingly unimpressed by her height, the athletic grace or her straightforward manner.
"Tim could fasten and unfasten the Velcro on his tennis shoes, could he not?"
"Yes, I believe he had mastered that."
"He was able to unbuckle his belt and he was working on learning how to buckle it again, was he not?"
"That is also true," the doctor acknowledged but he didn't stop there. "You must understand that Tim learned those things by trial and error over the course of time. He had the help of patient people who understood the steps necessary to teach him what to do."
Josie let Doctor Weber talk on. Obviously, he was not a seasoned expert witness. He had opened a door that Josie thought she would have to knock on a long time before it even cracked.
"So Tim learned by repetition," she mused. "Doctor, did you know that Tim, by conservative estimates, had been on the Shock & Drop at least twelve times in the course of his life."
"No, I did not." He rotated his head and touched his collar then drummed two fingers briefly against that birthmark.
"Would Tim have understood how the buckle on the harness worked if he had seen someone fasten and unfasten it twelve times?" Josie asked.
"Objection, calls for speculation," Ruth called.
"Overruled," the judge intoned. "This witness is expert and his opinion is acceptable in this matter. Doctor, you may answer the question."
"It is possible, but not probable. If the person fastening the harness did not. . ."
"But it is possible," Josie insisted, interrupting now that she had the answer she wanted.
"Yes, it is," Weber agreed but still he refused to be limited in his response. "However, I doubt anyone suggested Tim take his harness off while the ride was moving. Tim had to concentrate very hard in order to accomplish anything. I doubt he could have concentrated while that ride was going."
"Then let me ask this" Josie rerouted the questioning. "Did Tim understand death?"
"Yes. Tim had a roommate who died and he often asked about him."
"Did he understa
nd that his mother was dying?" Josie asked.
"Yes," the doctor answered.
"How did Tim react to that?"
"He was intermittently upset then curious. The loss of his mother's hair upset Tim a great deal. Sometimes he ignored me when I tried to discuss the matter with him."
"Would you characterize his attitude as one of depression?"
"Yes, that would be appropriate at times," the doctor agreed.
"Did Tim want to go with his mother when she died?" Josie raised her voice, separating the words in the next question so there would be no mistake. "Could Tim have wanted to take his own life?"
"You are presupposing Tim's understanding of how death came about," the doctor answered coolly. "In reality, Tim would not have understood that opening his safety restraint would result in his death. The concept of suicide, or how it was accomplished, was too complex for Tim Wren."
"Do you have any more questions for this witness, Ms. Bates?" The judge asked, tiring of this line of questioning.
Josie shook her head and the witness was dismissed. She had accomplished nothing. The judge raised a finger to Ruth who called Carol Schmidt to the stand.
***
Ruth didn't need to prod, cajole or threaten. Carol Schmidt told the story of Lexi and Tim in a modulated voice, holding her hands clasped loosely in her lap, doing what she had told Josie she would do – her duty. Carol Schmidt was the perfect witness and Ruth Alcott led her through her testimony with skill and cunning that provided shadings Carol never intended. By the time Ruth was done, it sounded as if Archer had attacked Lexi with intent to kill, as if he hated Tim, as if he would have walked over hot coals rather than care for Lexi's son after her death. And, in all this, Carol Schmidt seemed a reluctant but honest witness, a saint among women, and a responsible citizen. Carol Schmidt was the standard by which a jury would judge Archer's attitudes and behavior.
Thank God there was no jury.
A jury would hate Josie for what she was about to do.
"Mrs. Schmidt, do you remember speaking to me at the Greenwood Home on the evening of October twenty-eighth?"
"I do," she answered a smile of recognition faltering on her lips as Josie addressed her.
"During that conversation you told me you considered killing your husband, is that correct?"
Josie asked this without preface and she felt dirty as she watched Carol Schmidt's expression melt into one of indescribable pain. Her beautiful face paled to the cold color of marble. Her eyes fell deep into shadows that hadn't been there before. If Josie had not surprised her, wounding her so deeply, Carol Schmidt might have defended herself. But the injury was deliberate and she only had breath enough to whisper:
"Yes."
"And did you also tell me that you considered killing yourself?"
A tremor gripped Carol Schmidt. Josie was close enough to see it crawl up the woman's neck and take root in her jaw.
"Yes," she answered.
Still Josie didn't move. She would cut no quarter. Josie's compassion for this woman was secondary to her loyalty to Archer.
"Did you kill your husband, Mrs. Schmidt?" Josie demanded.
"Your honor," Ruth called in disgust.
Josie asked again when Ruth made no specific objection.
"Did you kill your husband, Mrs. Schmidt?"
"No, I did not," she said, her voice so small.
"And you are still living, are you not?"
"Yes," Carol said as if ashamed.
"And so, when you said to me that you thought of ending your husband's suffering and that you considered ending your own by taking your life, you were not speaking literally, were you, Mrs. Schmidt?"
Carol seemed to have no voice so Josie continued on, ever more forcefully.
"And when you heard my client say it might be better if Tim Wren was dead, did you have reason to agree with that statement?"
"Yes."
"Did you believe the defendant meant to kill Tim Wren?" Josie's voice did not waver and the cadence of the questions seemed to thrust Carol Schmidt into a puzzling maze of uncertainty.
"I don't know. No, I don't think so."
"Do you believe it is possible that people say things they don't mean because, on some level, there is a compassionate truth in those statements?"
"Your honor, this is inappropriate. Mrs. Schmidt is not on trial. No foundation has been laid for this woman's expertise. . ."
Ruth Alcott's voice trailed off into nothingness. All eyes were trained on Carol Schmidt. Her head was bowed. The judge offered his ruling gently; with great empathy for the witness and grudging acknowledgement that his decision was proper.
"You opened the door, Ms. Alcott. Proceed, Ms. Bates."
Josie asked the question again and this time Carol Schmidt readied herself for the fight. She pulled back her shoulders. She licked her lips and raised her chin. Josie saw it and gave her a final kick, hoping to keep her down.
"Do you think it possible that there can be compassion in such statements, Mrs. Schmidt? Do you, Mrs. Schmidt? Can someone be compassionate by wishing to end another person's life because they are suffering? Or are you the only one blessed with such a compass?"
Josie's question hung in the air. All eyes were on Carol Schmidt. To her credit, she answered in a clear voice. She would not play Josie's game.
"I'm not a philosopher or a member of the clergy," she said. "I can't answer that."
"You visit a man who is a vegetable, Mrs. Schmidt. I believe that qualifies you as an expert. So, I ask you again, can death for someone whose quality of life is severely damaged be a blessing?"
"I believe death eases suffering. I would like to see my husband's suffering end. But I know I will not be the one to end it. It is wrong to do it."
"But not to wish it, is that right, Mrs. Schmidt? The way my client wished his wife's suffering would end and Timothy Wren's suffering would end? That's not wrong, is it?" Josie drawled as she held Carol Schmidt's gaze long enough to make the other woman lower her eyes in shame. "No more questions of this witness."
Satisfied that she had neutralized Carol Schmidt's testimony, but feeling no better for it. Josie started back to the defense table.
"If there's love!"
Carol Schmidt nearly screamed and Josie was stopped dead in her tracks. She turned slowly. Carol still sat in the witness chair, angry, tearful and strong as she threw her testimony back in Josie's face.
"It's compassionate to wish for a loved one not to suffer. I want you to understand that. But he didn't love Tim. He couldn't have felt compassion because he hated Lexi's son." Carol threw her hand out in a damning gesture.
"Your Honor, move to strike!" Josie bore down on Carol Schmidt, hoping to silence. It wasn't going to happen.
"No, no." She was fairly screaming. "Don't strike what I say."
"Ms. Alcott," the judge called, "Control your witness."
"How dare you? How dare any of you try to control me and twist what I have to say," Carol half rose from her chair. She leaned against the witness box and begged the judge to listen. "I believe if he had the opportunity, Archer would have killed poor Tim. I don't know if he did, but I know he would have. That's the difference. He would have killed Tim if it meant helping Lexi. That's not compassion. That's selfish."
Carol's head whipped toward the judge, to Ruth Alcott. She looked at the spectators. Finally, she looked at Josie and the two women faced down. Carol Schmidt's chest rose and fell, her breathing was shallow, there was a look of horror and relief on her face. It seemed as if Carol's demons had been released because she had accused Archer of something worse than wishing. Carol Schmidt seemed almost rapturous, as if she had seen the light and her soul was free.
Stunned, Josie could not take her eyes off the witness but she was the only one who couldn't. Everyone else looked away, shamed not only by what Josie had done but Carol Schmidt's breakdown.
Josie felt defeated. While sh
e may win the day, defending Archer had thrown her back to a time when winning was the only thing and people were changed as Josie cut through their lives. If Josie had any regret it was that she had lost a personal battle. Expediency had been chosen over decency and there would come a time when she would be called to account.
"The witness is speculating your honor," Josie said, undeterred. "Mrs. Schmidt, could the defendant's statement regarding his feelings about his wife's illness and his stepson's situation be regarded as compassionate? Yes or no."
"Yes," Crushed, Carol sat down, her voice barely a whisper.
"At the time the defendant made that statement did you interpret what you heard as a threat?"
"No."
"There will be nothing else of this witness, Your Honor."
Josie claimed her seat at the defense table. Carol Schmidt's testimony had gone as she expected. The one thing Josie didn't expect was the next witness and the one after that.
CHAPTER 27
The man who sat in the witness chair had been there before. He knew what he wanted to say, and what he had to say worried Josie beyond measure as he stated his name for the record.
"My name is Tom Ford, and I am Chief of Detectives with the LAPD out of the West Los Angeles Division."
"Did you ever have occasion to meet the defendant?" Ruth raised a hand toward Archer.
"The defendant was a detective under my command before his retirement."
"Did you ever encounter any difficulty with the defendant during the time of his service?"
"He was an ideal officer until approximately three months before his retirement. At that point, his behavior became erratic. Some of my detectives refused to work with him until an evaluation was made."
"And was such an evaluation made?" Ruth asked.
"The defendant refused psychological counseling through the department. He also did not follow-up on a promise to seek private counseling, as far as I know."
"Can you describe the defendant's behavior during those months?" Ruth hitched her pants absentmindedly, adjusting the elastic.
"His general demeanor had become aggressive. He was short tempered, angry and edgy."
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