Final Verdict

by William Bernhardt

  “I never said anything about bribes. There are many ways of persuading people.”

  “What are we talking about now? Threats?”

  “You’re so melodramatic. Just lean on them a bit. People are more flexible than you realize. If you want to win this case—prove it.”

  “I’ll prove it in the courtroom. Without paying bribes.”

  “So far, you haven’t done much.”

  “Maybe you should represent Sweeney yourself.”

  “Would that I could. I am—” All at once, her voice broke. She pressed her hand against her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m just so worried.”

  Dan and Maria exchanged a look. Was she about to cry again? He preferred the mean and nasty Prudence they’d known for years.

  Prudence drew in her breath and composed herself. “I am sick and tired of people trashing Dr. Sweeney. They don’t know anything about him. They don’t know what he’s been through. They don’t know what he’s had to overcome to achieve the position he has today. Sure, he’s not perfect. He has a lot of flaws.” She covered her eyes. “But he doesn’t deserve to be executed. For a crime he didn’t commit.”

  “Forgive me for asking,” Maria said, “but—why have you stayed with that man so long?”

  “I thought—” Prudence took a deep breath, then tried again. “I thought I could help him. Just as he helped me. When I first came to his office as an intern, I didn’t know anything. I was on the rebound, broke, drinking too much. He overlooked everything and helped me when no one else would. I’ll never forget that.” She looked up. “He was having troubles, too. He’d had a bad relationship somewhere in his past that scarred him big time. He’d walled himself off. All business. No personal life. I tried to take on everything possible so he could focus on the big picture—and maybe have a private life again.”

  “Did it work?”

  “No. He’ll be a workaholic till the day he dies. I think I’ve made myself invaluable, but...” She shook her head. “You and Dan have each other. Don’t bother denying it. I’ve seen the two of you together. I think that’s nice. I’m sure it was hard to...open the door and let someone in. Sweeney never lets anyone in. If they take away his paintings, his fortune, his freedom—he’ll have nothing left.”

  To Dan’s amazement, Maria placed her hand on Prudence’s shoulder. “Rest assured that we will do everything possible—everything legal—to see that he’s acquitted.”

  Prudence looked up, wiping her eyes. “Thank you.” She swallowed. “And if there’s anything I can do to help, just ask.”

  “We will.”

  “I mean that. I don’t have to sit around like a rock in the gallery. I’m extremely resourceful.”

  “I know that.”

  A voice sounded from the staircase. “As long as we’re having big revelations, can I add mine?”

  Every head in the living room whipped around.

  “Jimmy!” Maria shouted.

  “In the flesh.” He walked down the stairs. “Are you having a team meeting?”

  “Yes. We didn’t think you’d—”

  “Then where’s the food?”

  Dan grinned. “I can whip up a little pasta in fifteen minutes.”

  “It can wait. I...have something to tell you.”

  Maria grabbed his hand. “Does this mean you’re back on the team?”

  Jimmy hesitated. “It means I know something that might be of use to you. I won’t lie—the idea of helping Sweeney makes my stomach turn. But I heard what Prudence said and...she’s right. Sweeney is a human being. With rights like everyone else. He might be disgusting beyond belief—” Jimmy looked at Prudence. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “No offense taken. Please proceed.”

  “But he doesn’t deserve to die, or to spend the rest of his life in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.”

  Maria continued squeezing Jimmy’s hand. “So you’re going to help us.”

  “So despite the fact that I objected to this case in the most strenuous way possible...I can’t permit a gross miscarriage of justice. I’m an officer of the court. When I know something crooked is going down, I have to speak up.”

  “What do you know, Jimmy?”

  “I spoke to Shawna recently. She’s resigning and moving. But she gave me a lot of useful information about this case.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like...someone is being induced to testify. And the testimony is highly suspect.”

  Dan tilted his head to one side. “I don’t believe Jazlyn would countenance that.”

  “I don’t think Jazlyn knows anything about it,” Jimmy replied. “But it’s happening, just the same. Someone is getting a secret deal, completely off the books. And if you don’t stop it”—he shook his head—“you’re going down in flames.”

  Chapter 37

  Next morning, Sweeney was at the defense table when Dan arrived. Prudence hovered behind him. She appeared to have recovered her composure. As he approached, she was adjusting the lie of Sweeney’s tie.

  Dinah scooted up behind him and placed a manila envelope in his hands. “Consider the man served.”

  “You did it?”

  “Served my first witness subpoena. Signed the affidavit and everything. I feel very important now.”

  “And it went okay?”

  Her smile faded. “A little scary, to be honest. He wasn’t happy.”

  “You’ll get used to that. But he’ll appear?”

  “I think so. We’ve got a guy watching him.”

  “Excellent.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “You done good, sis.”

  She beamed. “I have a great teacher.”

  Dan turned toward the table. “Everyone ready for the first day of our defense?”

  Sweeney wore a blue suit. White shirt and red tie. “Is this where you start to show some balls, Pike?”

  “If by that you mean, is this where we go on the offensive, yes.”

  “I’m not sure you have the guts to be offensive.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to be offensive. I said—”

  “If you’re going to win anything in life, you have to be willing to make some enemies.”

  Dan tried to rein in his temper. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I wonder if...perhaps...your friendship...or whatever it is...with the prosecutor is preventing you from putting up a real fight.”

  Temper, temper. “I’ve been fighting—on your behalf—since the trial began.”

  “You’ve been making a half-assed effort and we both know it.”

  Was Sweeney deliberately trying to goad him? Was that the man’s strategy—bullying him into action? “Everyone on this team has been working night and day on your case. At considerable personal risk.”

  Sweeney scoffed. “Talk is cheap. I want to see it on the stage.”

  Dan turned away. This was only going to enrage him and that would impair his effectiveness. He needed to focus on hacking down the prosecution’s considerable mound of incriminating evidence.

  * * *

  Judge Smulders entered and brought the courtroom to order. “Counsel, does the defense wish to present evidence?”

  As if. “We do, your honor. The defense calls Staci Mauney.”

  When he went looking for a DNA expert, he hadn’t intentionally looked for a woman, but he did think Mauney made a nice counterpoint to Deanna Folsom. Younger, hipper, more up-to-date. She didn’t come to this field through the backdoor. It had been her focus since school and throughout her professional life. She was in the private sector, not a police department. She worked out of Tallahassee and was considered one of the leading experts in the nation.

  Mauney took the stand. Slender. Business-like. No visible jewelry. Poised. Might not be fun on a third date, but exactly what he needed in the courtroom. He established her credentials, her degrees and awards and numerous published articles.

  “Dr. Mauney, just to be upfront, are you being compensated for testifying today?”
r />   “For testifying, no, but I will charge my standard fee for DNA analysis, plus travel expenses.”

  “Thank you. Please tell the jury what you do.”

  “My office is basically a check on the numerous law enforcement DNA labs around the country. As a result of misinformation and primetime TV, people have come to believe DNA evidence is irrefutable. It isn’t. DNA must be interpreted. Errors occur.”

  “Can you give me an example?”

  “Sure. A few years ago in Houston, a local CBS affiliate news station obtained samples of DNA processed by the Houston Police Department Crime Laboratory and sent them out for analysis by independent experts. The results were shocking. The Houston techs were mishandling and misinterpreting even the simplest samples.”

  “Does this happen a lot?”

  “Sadly, yes. Initially, DNA evidence released many innocent people. But now we’re seeing people wrongfully convicted by DNA evidence, in some cases due to negligent handling, but in others, as part of a deliberate effort to stack the deck for conviction.”

  “How hard is that?”

  “Not very. Jurors are often baffled by DNA evidence. They can’t read the genetic markers that appear on test strips as staggered lines of blue dots. They have to rely on the techs who are testifying.”

  “Have you written articles on this subject?”

  “Many. Like all sciences, forensic science evolves. I believe you spoke earlier about how bite-mark evidence is widely discredited now. That’s been around since the Salem witch trials, but few courts will permit it today. Microscopic hair evidence has been entirely discredited. Some experts are questioning ballistics testing. Turns out the supposedly unique markings made on bullets when fired are not nearly so unique as was once believed. Even fingerprints are not as one-of-a-kind as lawyers sometimes suggest. So it is perhaps not surprising that DNA evidence, while potentially useful, is far from infallible.”

  “Please tell us about the current status of DNA evidence.”

  “Testing standards have improved,” Mauney replied. “The FBI started its CODIS database to store the DNA profiles of arrested and convicted criminals. People heard a lot about DNA on television. One study indicated that if the prosecution had DNA evidence, the jury was thirty-three times more likely to convict. Sometimes prosecutors could get suspects to confess or take a plea if they told them they had DNA evidence. So everyone wanted DNA evidence. One way or the other.” She paused. “Too often, defendants and their lawyers can’t afford independent verification, or think it will be useless. They’ve bought into the DNA myth. So sloppy work goes undetected.”

  Dan glanced at the jury. He had been worried that this might be too high-school-science class for them, but they seemed attentive. “Is that a problem?”

  “Of course. Science is only as good as the people applying it. DNA evidence only indicates that one sample is similar to another. If there’s no similarity, that’s a good indication that the donor should be eliminated as a suspect. But a finding of similarity is not proof of guilt. And of course, similarities can be...exaggerated.”

  “What do you propose?”

  “The best solution would be to send all DNA evidence to independent labs like ours. Perhaps one day we'll be able to automate the process and take people out of the equation. Several experts are working on software that would handle the analysis, but we’re not there yet. We need lab techs—reliable ones. People who are not paid by or have any affiliation with law enforcement, so they’re free to report their true findings. Did you know that some crime techs are actually given a bonus if their evidence results in a conviction? That’s obviously going to bias the analysis. We need a firewall between the scientists and law enforcement.”

  “Any other problems?”

  “DNA analysis is incredibly complex. Remember—we all share 99.9% genes identical to every other person on this planet. But even the variations—we call them alleles— are shared by a smaller percentage of the population. So the DNA analyst has to find the variations that are the least observable part of a sample but still are not completely unique. This is particularly important when looking at a mixture of DNA samples or a split sample. The analyst must interpret whether the observable similarities are sufficient to declare a match. It is not at all cut-and-dried. It's more like an interpretive art. It’s more subjective than objective.”

  “And the consequences of sloppy or biased interpretation?”

  “Wrongful conviction. Erin Murphy has written a book detailing dozens of cases where DNA typing went horribly wrong. It’s terrifying. It’s an affront to the justice system.”

  Jazlyn rose. “Your honor, while I’m sure the jury is enjoying this opinionated science lesson...are we going to talk about the murder case?”

  Dan replied. “I’m going to tie this into the case, your honor. Right now.”

  The judge nodded. “Please do.”

  “Dr. Mauney, have you had a chance to examine the DNA evidence in this case?”

  “I have.”

  “Did you draw any conclusions?”

  “Yes. I find that while the DNA evidence does not exclude the defendant, it certainly does not prove he committed the crime. And I have many concerns about how the sample was handled. Remember, DNA evidence does not come to court by magic. Context is everything. I detected signs of contamination. That’s not surprising given the circumstances—a fleck of skin found on a decapitated head in a freezer. But it mitigates forming a definitive conclusion.”

  “What else?”

  “There’s a complete lack of transparency here. I asked Dr. Folsom and her staff for a report describing their procedure. They refused. I asked to interview them. They refused.”

  Jazlyn rose again. “Objection. Your honor, talking to outsiders is contrary to SPPD policy.”

  The judge looked back at her. “So the witness’ statement is correct.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Overruled. Please sit down.”

  Dan continued. “Dr. Mauney, what is meant in the field of DNA forensics by the term ‘secondary transfer?’”

  “It’s simple. The DNA sample moves from one place to another. The skin fleck in question was purportedly found on the head in the freezer. But it could have been planted there.”

  Jazlyn again. “Objection. This is getting preposterous.”

  “Is it?” Dan asked. “The two police officers, and numerous others, were in my client’s office. Given the enormous rate of human skin shedding, there must be flecks all over the place. Finding one and planting it would not be difficult.”

  He and Jazlyn started talking at once. Judge Smulders raised his hands to quiet them. “You are all free to make whatever arguments you like in closing. But this is proper defense testimony. Madame Prosecutor, you are overruled.”

  Jazlyn flung herself into her seat, eyes burning.

  Dan couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a few tiny kernels of doubt in the eyes of the jurors. His work wasn’t done. But this was a definite step in the right direction.

  Chapter 38

  After the break, Dan called his next witness. He was glad to see Garrett in the gallery. But for him, they wouldn’t have this witness at all.

  David Norris took giant steps to the witness stand. He was extremely tall and a bit pudgy, probably the natural result of spending too much time staring at screens. Mismatched socks. Bad haircut. Sleepy left eye.

  “Mr. Norris, you’re a security officer working at the downtown SweeTech office building, correct?”

  “That’s right.” Norris seemed nervous. Probably his first time to testify. He was technically a defense witness, but he didn’t want to be here at all, and Dan would have to bear that in mind as he framed his questions. “I’ve been working there for three years.”

  “Do you like your job?”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Do you know my client, Conrad Sweeney?”

  “I’ve seen him on the video monitors a lot. I’ve never act
ually met him.”

  “Who hired you?”

  “That would be Prudence Hancock.” He pointed. “I report to her.”

  “Can you describe your duties?”

  “Basically, I watch the computer monitors that display the input from the security cameras positioned throughout the building. I have four screens, but they rotate through the views from twenty-four cameras.”

  “Is the feed from those cameras recorded?”

  “Yes. Everything is digitally stored on a cloud. I’m watching in case something suspicious or dangerous occurs that requires an immediate response.”

  Like one of Sweeney’s many enemies trying to rub him out. “Are the recordings dated?”

  “Yes. Each one is automatically encoded with a time-and-date stamp.”

  “Can those stamps be altered?”

  Norris’ back stiffened. “If you’re suggesting—”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m asking if it can be done.”

  “If you have the coding skills. Metadata can always be altered. Just as an image can be altered. But I’ve examined the original recording. The images have not been doctored.”

  Dan wasn’t surprised. He’d had them independently verified. The images were true.

  “Mr. Norris, a member of the SPPD previously testified that he reviewed your security camera recordings and found one showing my client and the victim, Christopher Andrus, exiting the penthouse-level elevator and entering my client’s office. Are you familiar with that recording?”

  “Yes. I helped Detective Kakazu find it. Took a while.”

  “And the images weren’t altered?”

  “No chance.”

  “Have you reviewed any of the other footage showing those two men together? Like, from previous occasions?”

  Norris’ head pulled back. A thin line crossed his brow. “No.”

  “Do you think there might be some value in that?”

  Norris was confused. “I...have not been asked to do that. I allowed the police to access all the recordings, though. I also gave access codes to your researcher.”