Haller continued his questioning of his psychiatric expert after the video ended.
“What did you see there, Doctor?”
“I saw a man in catatonic seizure.”
“Triggered by what?”
“It’s pretty clear it was triggered by stress. He was being questioned about a murder that he had admitted to but in my opinion didn’t commit. That would build stress in anyone, but acutely so in a paranoid schizophrenic.”
“And, Doctor, did you learn during your review of the case file that Jeffrey had suffered a seizure just hours before the murder of Judge Montgomery?”
“I did. I reviewed the reports of an incident that occurred about ninety minutes before the murder, in which Jeffrey was treated for seizure at a coffee shop.”
“And do you know the details of that incident, Doctor?”
“Yes. Jeffrey apparently walked into a Starbucks and ordered a coffee drink and then had no money to pay for it. He had left his money and wallet at the group home. When confronted by the cashier about this, he became threatened and went into seizure. EMTs arrived and determined he was in seizure.”
“Was he taken to a hospital?”
“No, he came out of seizure and refused further treatment. He walked away.”
“So, we have these occurrences of seizure on both sides of the murder we’re talking about here. Ninety minutes before and about two hours after, both of which you say were brought about by stress. Correct?”
“That is correct.”
“Doctor, would it be your opinion that committing a murder in which you use a knife to stab a victim three times in the upper body would be a stressful event?”
“Very stressful.”
“More stressful than attempting to buy a cup of coffee with no money in your pocket?”
“Yes, much more stressful.”
“In your opinion, is committing a violent murder more stressful than being questioned about a violent murder?”
The prosecutor objected, arguing that Haller was taking the doctor beyond the bounds of his expertise with his far-reaching hypotheticals. The judge agreed and struck the question, but Haller’s point had already been made.
“Okay, Doctor, we’ll move on,” Haller said. “Let me ask you this: At any time during your involvement in this case, have you seen any report indicating that Jeffrey Herstadt had any seizure during the commission of this violent murder?”
“No, I have not.”
“To your knowledge, when he was stopped by police in Grand Park near the crime scene and taken in for questioning, was he in seizure?”
“No, not to my knowledge.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Haller advised the judge that he reserved the right to recall the doctor as a witness, then turned over the witness to the prosecution. Judge Falcone was going to break for lunch before cross-examination began, but the prosecutor, whom Bosch recognized as Deputy District Attorney Susan Saldano, promised to spend no more than ten minutes questioning the doctor. The judge allowed her to proceed.
“Good morning, Dr. Stein,” she said, providing Bosch with at least part of the psychiatrist’s name.
“Good morning,” Stein replied warily. “Let’s now talk about something else regarding the defendant. Do you know whether upon his arrest and subsequent treatment at County-USC a blood sample was taken from him and scanned for drugs and alcohol?”
“Yes, it was. That would’ve been routine.”
“And when you reviewed this case for the defense, did you review the results of the blood test?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Can you tell the jury what, if anything, the scan revealed?”
“It showed low levels of a drug called paliperidone.”
“Are you familiar with paliperidone?”
“Yes, I prescribed it for Mr. Herstadt.”
“What is paliperidone?”
“It is a dopamine antagonist. A psychotropic used to treat schizophrenia and schizoaffective disorder. In many cases, if administered properly, it allows those afflicted with the disorder to lead normal lives.”
“And does it have any side effects?”
“A variety of side effects can occur. Each case is different, and we come up with drug therapies that fit individual patients while taking into account any side effects that are exhibited.”
“Do you know that the manufacturer of paliperidone warns users that side effects can include agitation and aggression?”
“Well, yes, but in Jeffrey’s—”
“Just a yes or no answer, Doctor. Are you aware of those side effects, yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Doctor. And just a moment ago, when you described the drug paliperidone, you used the phrase ‘if administered properly.’ Do you remember saying that?”
“Yes.”
“Now at the time of this crime, do you know where Jeffrey Herstadt was living?”
“Yes, in a group home in Angelino Heights.”
“And he had a prescription from you for paliperidone, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And who was in charge of properly administering the drug to him in that group home?”
“There is a social worker assigned to the home who administers the prescriptions.”
“So, do you have firsthand knowledge that this drug was properly administered to Mr. Herstadt?”
“I don’t really understand the question. I saw the blood scans after he was arrested and they showed the proper levels of paliperidone, so one can assume he was being given and was taking his dosage.”
“Can you tell this jury for a fact that he did not take his dosage after the murder but before his blood was drawn at the hospital?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Can you tell this jury that he didn’t hoard his pills and take several at once before the murder?”
“Again, no, but you are getting into—”
“No further questions.”
Saldano moved to the prosecution table and sat down. Bosch watched Haller stand up immediately and tell the judge he would be quick with redirect. The judge nodded his approval.
“Doctor, would you like to finish your answer to Ms. Saldano’s last question?” Haller asked.
“I would, yes,” Stein said. “I was just going to say that the blood scan from the hospital showed a proper level of the drug in his bloodstream. Any scenario other than proper administration doesn’t add up. Whether he was hoarding and then overmedicating, or not medicating and took a pill after the crime, it would have been apparent in the levels on the scan.”
“Thank you, Doctor. How long had you been treating Jeffrey before this incident occurred?”
“Four years.”
“When did you put him on paliperidone?”
“Four years ago.”
“Did you ever see him act aggressively toward anyone?”
“No, I did not.”
“Did you ever hear of him acting aggressively toward anyone?”
“Before this … incident, no, I did not.”
“Did you get regular reports on his behavior from the group home where he lived?”
“I did, yes.”
“Was there ever a report from the group home about Jeffrey being violent?”
“No, never.”
“Were you ever concerned that he might be violent toward you or any member of the public?”
“No. If that had been the case, I would have prescribed a different drug therapy.”
“Now, as a psychiatrist you are also a medical doctor, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And when you reviewed this case did you also look at the autopsy records on Judge Montgomery?”
“I did, yes.”
“You saw that he was stabbed three times in close proximity under the right armpit, correct?”
“Yes, I did.”
Saldano stood and objected.
“Your Honor, where is he going w
ith this?” she asked. “This is beyond the scope of my cross-examination.”
Falcone looked at Haller.
“I was wondering the same thing, Mr. Haller.”
“Judge, it is somewhat new territory but I did reserve the right to recall Dr. Stein. If the prosecution wants, we can go to lunch and I will recall him right afterward, or we can just take care of this right here. I’ll be quick.”
“The objection is overruled,” the judge said. “Proceed, Mr. Haller.”
“Thank you, Judge,” Haller said.
He turned his attention back to the witness.
“Doctor, there are vital blood vessels in the area of the body where Judge Montgomery was stabbed, are there not?”
“Yes, blood vessels leading directly to and from the heart.”
“Do you have Mr. Herstadt’s personal files?”
“I do.”
“Did he ever serve in the military?”
“No, he did not.”
“Any medical training?”
“None that I am aware of.”
“How could he have known to stab the judge in the very specifically vulnerable spot under the judge’s—”
“Objection!”
Saldano was back on her feet.
“Judge, this witness has no expertise that would allow him to hazard even a guess at what counsel was about to ask him.”
The judge agreed.
“If you want to pursue that, Mr. Haller, bring in a wound expert,” Falcone said. “This witness is not that.”
“Your Honor,” Haller said. “You sustained the objection without giving me a chance to argue the point.”
“I did and I’d do it again, Mr. Haller. Do you have any other questions for the witness?”
“I don’t.”
“Ms. Saldano?”
Saldano thought for a moment but then said she had no further questions. Before the judge could tell the jury to take a lunch break, Haller addressed the court.
“Your Honor,” he said, “I expected Ms. Saldano to spend most of the afternoon on cross-examination of Dr. Stein. And I thought I would take up the rest of it on redirect. This is quite a surprise.”
“What are you telling me, Mr. Haller?” the judge asked, his tone already tinged with consternation.
“My next witness is my DNA expert coming in from New York. She doesn’t land until four o’clock.”
“Do you have a witness you can take out of order and bring in after lunch?”
“No, Your Honor, I don’t.”
“Very well.”
The judge was clearly unhappy. He turned and addressed the jury, telling its members they were finished for the day. He told them to go home and avoid any media coverage of the trial and to be back in the morning at nine. Throwing a glare at Haller, the judge explained to the jurors that they would begin hearing testimony before the usual ten o’clock start in order to make up lost time.
Everyone waited until the jurors had filed into the assembly room and then the judge turned more of his frustration on Haller.
“Mr. Haller, I think you know I don’t like working half days when I have scheduled full days of court.”
“Yes, Your Honor. Neither do I.”
“You should have brought your witness in yesterday so that she would be available no matter how things progressed in the case.”
“Yes, Your Honor. But that would have meant paying for another night in a hotel and, as the court knows, my client is indigent and I was appointed to the case by the court at significantly reduced fees. My request to the court administrator to bring my expert in a day earlier was denied for financial reasons.”
“Mr. Haller, that’s all well and good, but there are highly qualified DNA experts right here in Los Angeles. Why is it necessary to fly your expert in from New York?”
That was the first question that had come to Bosch’s mind as well.
“Well, Judge, I don’t really think it would be fair for me to have to reveal defense strategy to the prosecution,” Haller said. “But I can say that my expert is at the top of the game in her specialty field of DNA analysis and that this will become apparent when she testifies tomorrow.”
The judge studied Haller for a long moment, seemingly trying to decide whether to continue the argument. Finally he relented.
“Very well,” he said. “Court is adjourned until nine o’clock tomorrow. Have your witness ready at that time, Mr. Haller, or there will be consequences.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
The judge got up and left the bench.
6
Where do you want to go?”
They were in the back of Haller’s Lincoln.
“Doesn’t matter,” Bosch said. “Somewhere private. Quiet.”
“You hear that Traxx closed down?” Haller asked. “Really? I loved that place. Loved going to Union Station.”
“I already miss it. It was my go-to place during trial. It was there twenty years—in this town that says something.”
Haller leaned forward and spoke to his driver.
“Stace, take us over to Chinatown,” he said. “The Little Jewel.”
“You got it,” the driver said.
Haller’s driver was a woman and Bosch had never seen that before. Haller had always used former clients to drive the Lincoln. Men paying off their legal fees. He wondered what Stace was paying off. She was mid-forties, black, and looked like a schoolteacher, not someone drawn from the streets, as Haller’s drivers usually were.
“So what did you think?” Haller asked. “About the trial?” Bosch replied. “You scored your points about the confession. Is your DNA expert going to be that good? Her ‘specialty field of DNA analysis’—how much of that was bullshit?”
“None of it. But we’ll see. She’s good but I don’t know if she’s good enough.”
“And she’s really coming in from New York?”
“I told you, none of it was bullshit.”
“So what’s she going to do? Attack the lab? Say they blew it?”
Bosch was tired of that defense. It may have worked for O. J. Simpson but that was a long time ago and there were so many other factors involved in that case. Big factors. The science of DNA was too good. A match was a match. If you wanted to knock it down you needed something other than to attack the science.
“I don’t know what she’s going to say,” Haller said. “That’s our deal. She’ll never shill. She calls them like she sees them.”
“Well, like I told you, I’ve been following the case,” Bosch said. “Knocking down the confession is one thing. But DNA’s another. You need to do something. You have the case file with you?”
“Most of it—all the trial prep. It’s in the trunk. Why?”
“I was thinking I could take a look at it for you. If you want, I mean. No promises. Just that something didn’t seem right in there when I was watching. Something was poking at me.”
“With the testimony? What?”
“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t add up.”
“Well, I’ve got tomorrow and then that’s it. No other witnesses. If you’re going to look, I need it today.”
“No problem. Right after lunch.”
“Fine. Knock yourself out. How’s the knee, by the way?”
“Good. Better every day.”
“Pain?”
“No pain.”
“You didn’t call because you’ve got a malpractice case, did you?”
“No, not that.”
“Then what?”
Bosch looked at the driver’s eyes in the rearview. She couldn’t help overhearing things. He didn’t want to talk in front of her.
“Wait till we sit down,” he said.
“Sure,” Haller said.
The Little Jewel was in Chinatown but it didn’t serve Chinese food. It was pure Cajun. They ordered at the counter and then got a table in a reasonably quiet corner. Bosch had gone with a shrimp po’boy sandwich. Haller had ordered the fried oyster p
o’boy and paid for both.
“So, new driver?” Bosch asked.
“Been with me three months,” Haller said. “No, four. She’s good.”
“She a client?”
“Actually, the mother of a client. Her son’s in county for a year on possession. We beat an intent-to-sell package, which wasn’t bad at all on my part. Mom said she’d work off the fees driving.”
“You’re all heart.”
“Man’s gotta pay the bills. We’re not all happy-go-lucky pensioners like you.”
“Yeah, that’s me all right.”
Haller smiled. He had successfully represented Bosch a few years earlier when the city tried to pull his pension.
“And this case,” Bosch said. “Herstadt. How’d you end up being appointed? I thought you didn’t handle murder cases anymore.”
“I don’t but the judge assigned it to me,” Haller said. “One day I was in his courtroom minding my own business on another case and he tags me with it. I’m like, ‘I don’t do murder cases, Judge, especially high-profile cases like this,’ and he’s, ‘You do now, Mr. Haller.’ So here I am with a fucking unwinnable case and getting paid hamburger when I usually get steak.”
“How come the PD didn’t take it?”
“Conflict of interest. The victim, Judge Montgomery, was formerly the Public Defender, remember?”
“Right, right. I forgot.”
Their numbers were called and Bosch went up to the counter to get their sandwiches and drinks. After he delivered the food to the table, Haller got down to the business of their meeting.
“So, you call me up in the middle of a trial and say you need to talk. So talk. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No, nothing like that.”
Bosch thought a moment before continuing. He had set up the meeting and now he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He decided to start at the beginning.
“About twelve years ago I caught a case,” he said. “A guy up on the overlook above the Mulholland Dam. Two in the back of the head, execution style. Turned out he was a doctor. A medical physicist. He specialized in gynecological cancers. And it turned out that he had gone up to St. Agatha’s in the Valley and cleared out all the cesium they use for treatment from a lead safe. It was missing.”
The Night Fire Page 3