"Phenelzine is a kind of antidepressant that my wife took from time to time. It had been prescribed for her for several years."
"And phenelzine, Judge, is an MAO inhibitor, is it not?"
"I know that now, Mr. Molto."
"You knew it for some time, didn't you, Judge?"
"I really can't say that."
"Well, Judge, you heard the testimony during the prosecution case of Dr. Gorvetich, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"And you recall, I'm sure, that he described doing a forensic examination of your personal computer after it was removed from your house. Do you recall that?"
"I recall his testimony and I recall my home being searched at your order and my computer being seized." My dad does his best not to sound too bitter, but he has made the point purposefully about the intrusion.
"And you recall Dr. Gorvetich testifying that the cache on your Web browser shows that at some point in time, which he isolated as late September 2008, there were searches on your personal computer of two sites that describe phenelzine."
"I remember that testimony."
"And looking at the pages visited, Judge-" Tommy turns to a paralegal at the prosecution table and gives an exhibit number. The blank screen beside my dad fills up, and Tommy uses a laser pointer to highlight as he reads. "'Phenelzine is a monoamine oxidase (MAO) inhibitor.' Do you see that?"
"Of course."
"Do you recall reading that in late September 2008, Judge?"
"I do not, Mr. Molto, but I take your point."
"And page 463 of the Harnason transcript, which was previously introduced into evidence as People's Exhibit 47, which I believe you have just admitted you read-that page states, doesn't it, that MAO inhibitors are not tested for as part of a toxicology screen routinely performed on a postmortem examination of someone who has died unexpectedly?"
"Yes, it says that."
Molto then calls up to the screen Judge Hamlin's opinion for herself and Judge Mason in Harnason's case, which also says that arsenic and many other compounds, including MAO inhibitors, aren't tested for in connection with autopsies.
"And you read Judge Hamlin's opinion?"
"Yes, sir. Several drafts."
"So you know, Judge, that an overdose of phenelzine would not be detected by a routine tox screen, right? Just like the arsenic used to kill Mr. Harnason's lover?"
"Argumentative," says Stern by way of objection.
Judge Yee wags his head, as if it's no big deal, but says, "Sustained."
"Well, let me put it to you like this, Judge Sabich: Didn't you poison your wife with phenelzine, knowing it wasn't going to be detected by a routine toxicology screen and hoping to pass off her death as one by natural causes?"
"No, Mr. Molto, I did not."
Tommy pauses then and strolls a bit. The issue, as they like to say in very old court opinions, has been joined.
"Now, Judge, you heard the testimony of Officer Krilic about removing the contents of your wife's medicine cabinet from your house the day after she died?"
"I remember Officer Krilic asking me if he could do that rather than making a list of the drugs while he was at our house, and I recall giving him permission, Mr. Molto."
"It would have looked pretty suspicious if you'd refused, wouldn't it, Judge?"
"I told him to do whatever he needed to do, Mr. Molto. If I wanted to keep anyone from examining those pill bottles, I'm sure I could have thought of a reason to ask him to write down the names of the drugs while he was there."
At the prosecution table, Jim Brand feigns touching his chin while he rolls his fingers toward Molto. He's telling Molto to move on. My dad has just scored.
"Let's get to the point, Judge. Those are your fingerprints on the bottle of phenelzine from your wife's medicine cabinet, right?" Tommy calls out an exhibit number, and a paralegal from the PA's office puts up a series of slides, with several golden fingerprints displayed against an iridescent blue background. Etched in gold, the prints look like something from the Holy Ark.
"I heard Dr. Dickerman's testimony."
"We all heard him offer his opinion, Judge, that those are your prints, but now in front of the jury"-Tommy sweeps his hand toward the sixteen people behind him-"I'm asking if you admit those in fact are your fingerprints on your wife's phenelzine?"
"I regularly picked up Barbara's pills at the pharmacy and often put them on the shelves in her medicine cabinet. I have no reason to doubt those are my prints. I do recall, Mr. Molto, that in the week before her death, Barbara had been in the garden when I came home, and her hands were dirty and she asked me to show her a bottle I'd picked up and then to put it in her medicine cabinet, but I can't tell you for certain that was the phenelzine."
Molto stares a second with the barest smirk, enjoying the utter convenience of the explanation.
"So you're saying the prints came from showing your wife the bottle you'd picked up?"
"I'm telling you that's possible."
"Well, let's look more carefully, Judge." Tommy returns to the prosecution table and comes back with the actual vial, now sealed in a glassine envelope. "Referring to People's Exhibit 1, the phenelzine you picked up at the pharmacy four days before your wife's death-you're saying you showed it to her, something like this, right?" Gripping the small bottle through the plastic, he extends it toward my father.
"Again, yes, if it was the phenelzine I showed her."
"And I'm holding the bottle between my right thumb and the side of my index finger, correct?"
"Right."
"And my right thumb, Judge, is pointing down toward the label on the front of the vial, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"But calling your attention again to People's Exhibit 1A, the slide of the fingerprints Dr. Dickerman developed, three of the four prints, your right thumb, your right index finger, your right middle finger-they're all pointing up toward the label, Judge. Aren't they?"
My dad takes a second to look at the slide. He nods before being reminded by Judge Yee to speak for the record.
"I had to reach in the bag to get the bottle out, Mr. Molto."
"But the prints are on the bottom of the vial, aren't they, Judge?"
"It might have been upside down in the bag, Mr. Molto."
"In fact, Judge, Dr. Dickerman testified that the length and width of all of those impressions would suggest you gripped the bottle tightly so the childproof cap could be opened. Did you hear that testimony?"
"Yes. But I also could have been gripping it tightly to pull it out of the bag."
Molto stares with the inklings of another smile. My dad has handled all of that fairly well, ignoring the fact that my mom's prints appear nowhere on the bottle.
"Well, let's talk about the pharmacy, Judge Sabich. Ten phenelzine tablets were purchased at your pharmacy on September 25, 2008, four days before your wife's death."
"That was the evidence."
"And the signature on the credit card slip, Judge, People's Exhibit 42-that's yours, is it not?" The slide of the slip, which was passed among the jurors in another transparent envelope when it was admitted, pops up next on the screen beside the witness stand. My father does not bother to turn.
"Yes."
"You purchased the phenelzine, didn't you, Judge?"
"I do not remember doing that, Mr. Molto. I can only agree that it is plainly my signature and tell you that I often picked up the prescription when I was coming home, if Barbara asked me to do it. The pharmacy is across the street from the bus I rode to work
every day."
Molto checks his exhibit list and whispers instructions for the next slide.
"And referring to People's 1B, a photograph, you heard Officer Krilic testify that the bottle of phenelzine portrayed there is in the same condition as when he removed it."
"Yes."
"And calling your attention to People's 1B, I think you can see that there are only six pills in the container, is that right?"
In the photo, taken looking down into the plastic vial, the six tablets, dead ringers for the burnt-orange ibuprofen I take for occasional headaches, rest on the bottom. It's hard to believe that pills so common-looking could kill anybody.