“Other than the stipulation to the coroner’s testimony, will the rest of the testimony be from live witnesses?”
“It will, Your Honor,” I said.
“You may call your first witness.”
I started with Bailey, who interpreted the cell phone records. She pointed out the thirty-second call from one of Russell’s lesser-used cell phones to Ian Powers’s unlisted number just minutes after Russell got the first kidnap message from Hayley’s phone. I also had Bailey mention Powers’s call to Russell a couple of hours after the ransom note was sent, though I knew the defense would try to play it as evidence of his innocence: Why would Powers call to find out what was going on if he was the killer? But it could also play as Powers’s effort to look innocent. Especially since he hadn’t called sooner. I was hoping the defense would make the mistake of opening that door, so I could point that out.
But they didn’t. Wagmeister played it safe and had Bailey concede that we had no proof of what Russell said when he called Ian. That there was no proof he told Ian about the kidnapping text. That since Russell was so paranoid he wouldn’t call the cops, it was very likely he was afraid to tell Ian. Bailey tersely conceded all that was possible. I countered on redirect by having Bailey repeat that Russell’s call showed there was a way for Ian to have known about the kidnapping early on.
Next up was Dorian, who described the evidence she’d collected, and gave her opinion that the hairs on the passenger seat of Averly’s car came from Ian Powers.
Wagmeister did what little cross there was to do: just routine questions about how the evidence was collected and preserved. The defense didn’t want to tip their hand just yet, and tangling with a strong, highly respected witness like Dorian would only make them look bad.
My fingerprint expert, Leo Relinsky, said he’d found Ian’s print on the trunk of Brian’s car and inside Averly’s car, and Averly’s prints inside Brian’s car. This time Terry walked to the lectern.
“Now, Mr. Relinsky, you can’t say when prints are left on an object, can you?”
“No.”
“So those prints you found could’ve been left days, weeks, even months or years before you collected them?”
“Correct.”
“And you’ve heard of cases in which prints were planted, haven’t you?”
Leo frowned and pursed his lips. “I have heard of the very rare, bizarre case in which someone was able to lift a fingerprint with tape and place it somewhere. Mostly on television shows, but…yes.”
“So your answer is yes.”
He exhaled sharply. “Yes.”
“Nothing further.”
I didn’t think Terry would really go for something as cheesy as planting fingerprints, but the press loved that kind of conspiracy junk, so it would likely get her plenty of ink and airtime. When Terry returned to counsel table, Ian favored her with a superior, congratulatory smile. The more I saw this guy, the more I hated him. I hadn’t thought that was possible.
I decided not to call my soil expert, Sterling Numan. I didn’t need it for the prelim and it’d just give the defense more to play with. I wanted to keep my case high and tight. So I cut straight to the chase and called Timothy Gelfer to give his conclusions about the blood on the trunk.
“I compared the evidence blood found on the trunk of the car to the sample removed from Hayley Antonovich at autopsy and found her DNA profile present. But I also found another profile in the evidence blood, which indicated it was a mix. I received samples of blood from Jack Averly and Ian Powers-”
“Not from Hayley’s mother or father?” I asked, though I knew the answer.
“No. Because the profile did not share the requisite number of alleles with Hayley’s sample to have come from a parent.”
“Whose profile did match the blood on the trunk of Brian’s car?”
Random coughs and shuffling had been a constant undercurrent during the testimony up till now. Suddenly, a hush fell over the courtroom.
“I determined that the other profile matched that of the defendant, Ian Powers.”
“Nothing further.”
Several reporters scurried out of the courtroom. Good. Chew on that.
Terry stood again.
“Mr. Gelfer, you can’t tell when the blood was placed on the trunk, can you?”
“No.”
“And you cannot say that Hayley’s blood was placed on the trunk at the same time as Mr. Powers’s blood, can you?”
“No.”
“In fact, Hayley’s blood could’ve been on that car for a month before Ian Powers’s blood landed there, correct?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Or vice versa: Ian Powers’s blood could have gotten there before-maybe a month before-Hayley’s fell there. Correct?”
“Yes, that is correct. Though I think it would be very-”
“Objection!” Terry said. “The witness has answered the question. Nonresponsive.”
Gelfer had been about to hit a nerve. Terry didn’t want logic getting in the way of her theory.
“Sustained. The question has been answered. Anything further, Counsel?”
Terry asked the judge for a moment, then leaned down to whisper something to Wagmeister. I suspected this was just a delaying tactic to let her point sink in with the spectators. Ian watched his attorneys, his expression detached, as though they were tailors debating his trouser length.
Finally, Terry straightened and said, “No, nothing further.”
“People?” the judge asked.
I stood for the one question I had for Gelfer. “Were you about to say something about the likelihood of two people leaving a blood smear on the exact same spot at different times?”
Terry jumped to her feet and shouted, “Objection! Leading! And calls for speculation! Outside this witness’s expertise!”
“Objection will be sustained. Would you like to try again, Ms. Knight?”
I’d made my point. And it was a logical one, not a scientific one, so Gelfer really couldn’t speak to it anyway. “No thank you, Your Honor.”
“Anything further for this witness?” the judge asked.
“No, nothing further.”
Terry said she had no re-cross.
“Call your next witness,” the judge said.
“Just the stipulation, Your Honor.” I read in the coroner’s conclusion that both victims had been stabbed to death. Terry stipulated, albeit through gritted teeth, and I turned to the judge. “The People rest.”
Terry declined to call any witnesses and gave a brief pro forma argument to dismiss the charges. She couldn’t really justify making a big show of it, since she’d just offered to forgo the preliminary hearing altogether. And thankfully, the judge didn’t belabor the point by taking the matter under submission. “I find that there is sufficient cause to hold the defendant to answer for two counts of murder with the use of a deadly weapon, to wit, a knife. Shall we pick a pretrial date?”
“That’s fine, Your Honor,” Terry said. “But we’ll need a trial date within the statutory sixty days. We’re not waiving time.”
Predictable. The race was on.
58
I spent the next week talking to my witnesses, going over their testimony to make sure there’d be no bad surprises, and preparing them for the kinds of questions they’d get on cross-examination. Except for Dorian. She could handle herself against ten Terry Fisks. All at once. By Friday, I was feeling like things were pretty much under control. I even thought about taking one day off. And at that exact moment, Graden called. One of those rare instances of perfect timing.
“Devon wants to bring his girlfriend over for a pool day. I thought I might throw steaks on the barbie. How’s that sound to you?”