Guilt

'But didn't you just say that this lividity was on Mrs Dooher's upper shoulder?'

'Yes, I did.'

'And what does that mean?'

'It means that she was moved after she was dead. Rolled half-over.'

'And why was that?'

This time, Farrell stood on top of it. 'Objection, your honor! Speculation.'

The objection was sustained, but Jenkins was finally beginning to roll. 'Sergeant, when you first entered the room, did you have an impression of what had happened there?'

Crandall nodded. 'Yes.'

'And what was that?'

'It looked like a burglary that had been interrupted when the victim woke up, that there'd been a struggle, and in that struggle the burglar had killed Mrs Dooher.'

'But don't we know that Mrs Dooher was already dead when she was stabbed?'

'That's right. Because of the lividity, that was my assumption at the time – she was dead when she was stabbed.'

'And had the nightclothes been ripped or partially ripped from the victim?'

'Yes.'

'And had the bedding been thrown about?'

'That's right.'

'And was there blood spattered on the bed and on the floor, under the bed and so on?'

'Yes.'

'Even though Mrs Dooher could not have struggled at all because she was already dead?'

Crandall said yes again, and Glitsky thought he didn't have to provide any speculation after this testimony. What had happened ought to be clear enough.

Jenkins came back to the table for her pad. Consulting it, she faced Crandall once more. 'Now, Sergeant Crandall, let's change direction for a moment. What did you do with the blood samples you found at the scene of the murder?'

'I sent them for analysis to the crime lab.'

Farrell knew he had a hostile witness in Crandall, but it wasn't his style to pussy-foot. He got up from the defense table, crossed the floor of the courtroom, and positioned himself about two feet in front of the witness. He smiled warmly.

'Sergeant Crandall, I'd like to begin by talking about the side door, where you've testified that there was no sign of forced entry. No sign at all?'

Crandall nodded. 'That's right.'

'In your thorough investigation of the premises, did you discover anyplace else where somebody might have broken into the house?'

'No. Whoever came in appeared to just open the door.'

'So there was no sign that anyone broke in.' Farrell brought in the jury with a look. 'None. And no one had tried to make it look like a break-in either, had they?'

Crandall paused a second before answering. 'I don't know whether anyone had tried.'

Farrell appreciated this answer and he told Crandall as much. 'That is what I asked, isn't it, Sergeant?'

A nod.

'But whether or not anyone had tried, it didn't look like anyone had tried to make it look like a burglary, did it?'

'No.'

'All right, thank you. Let's leave that for a moment.' Farrell took a few steps over to the exhibit table and lifted something from it. 'I call your attention to People's Exhibit Number Two, the kitchen knife which we all agree belonged to the defendant and his wife. Did you have this knife tested for fingerprints?'

'Yes.'

'And what did you find?'

'We found the defendant's fingerprints on the knife, as well as those of his wife.'

'Anybody else's?'

'No. Just those two.'

'All right. Now did you discover anything about the defendant's fingerprints that would indicate that he held this knife during or after it was plunged into his wife's chest? For example, were there fingerprints over blood on the knife, or fingerprints in blood?'

'No.'

'Nothing at all to indicate that the defendant had ever used this knife as anything other than an ordinary kitchen implement?'

'No.'

'Nothing at all?'

Jenkins spoke from behind Farrell. 'Asked and answered?' Thomasino agreed, sustaining her.

Farrell nodded genially, glanced over at the jury and included them in his good humor. 'All right, Sergeant, I think we're getting somewhere here on all this evidence that was found at the murder scene. I'd like to ask you now about the surgical glove, People's Three, that was found outside the house, by the side door that showed no sign of forced entry. Did you submit this glove to rigorous lab analysis?'

'Yes, of course.'

'Of course. And what did you find on it? Any fingerprints?'

'No. No fingerprints. The rubber does not hold fingerprints. We did find some spots of Mrs Dooher's blood.'

'Only Mrs Dooher's blood?'

'Yes. Only Mrs Dooher's.'

'A lot of blood.'

Crandall shook his head. 'I wouldn't say a lot. A few drops, splattered and smudged.'

'But again, nothing at all that ties this piece of evidence to the defendant. Nothing at all, is that right?'

'Yes. That's right.'

'Good!' Farrell brought his hands together histrionically, delighted with the results of his questions so far. 'Now, Sergeant, don't the police routinely wear surgical gloves, just like this one, when they are investigating crime scenes?'

Jenkins stood up, objecting, but Thomasino let the question stand, and Crandall had to answer it.

'Yes, sometimes.'

'Just like this one?'

'Sometimes, yes.'

'Sometimes, hmmm. So you, personally, have access to gloves just like this one?'

'Objection! Your honor, Sergeant Crandall isn't on trial here.'

But Farrell spoke right up. 'Your honor, I'm trying to establish that the glove could just as easily have come from the police presence at the scene. Absolutely nothing has been offered to connect this glove with the defendant.'

Thomasino nodded and sighed. 'It seems to me you've done that already, Mr Farrell. Let's move on to the next point.'

Farrell bowed, acquiescent. 'Sergeant, you've told us that your initial impression upstairs – before you knew about the lividity in Mrs Dooher's shoulder – was that a burglary had occurred and she'd woken up and the burglar had stabbed her after a struggle. Do I have that right?'

'Yes.' Crandall shifted in his seat. Farrell, keeping him to short answers on simple factual questions, had succeeded in making him appear restless, edgy. And he wasn't finished yet.

'In other words, the room looked, to your practiced eye, as though a burglary had been in progress, isn't that correct?'

'That's the way it looked to me. Until I looked more carefully at the body.'

'It was made to look like a burglary?'

'Your honor.' Jenkins stood at her table. 'How many times do we have to hear the same question?'

Thomasino nodded. 'Let's move it along, Mr Farrell. You've established that the scene looked to Sergeant Crandall like a burglary had been interrupted.'

'I'm sorry, your honor. I just wanted it to be clear.'

Farrell turned to the jury and bowed slightly, an apology. Turning back, facing the Judge and the witness box, his voice was mild. 'So, Sergeant, based on your training and experience, you reached the conclusion that Mr Dooher had been the person in the room who had faked this burglary?'

Crandall did not respond quickly. 'Yes, I'd say that's right.'

'He wanted it to look like a burglary, and so he left the side door open so there'd be no sign of a burglar's forced entrance? Is that your contention?'

'I don't know why he left the door open. Or even if he did. He might have let himself in with a key.'

'Indeed he might have, sergeant. So, what evidence did you uncover that shows that Mr Dooher, as opposed to someone else, did any of this?'

'Objection. Argumentative.'

This had been Farrell's intention, so it didn't surprise him when Thomasino sustained her. Moving a step or two closer to the witness box he had his hands in his jacket pockets. 'Just to recount for the jury, Sergeant, so far we've established that none of the evidence found at the scene in any way places Mr Dooher there at the time of the stabbing of his wife, isn't that the case?'