When I began my opening, there was the usual low hum of activity-whispers from the gallery, jurors shifting in their seats, and business being conducted by the clerk. But by the time I’d finished, the courtroom was utterly still-no one in the jury box or even the gallery seemed to be breathing. I took what solace I could from this and thanked the jurors for their time and attention.
The judge turned to the defense. “Ms. Fisk, Mr. Wagmeister, will you be making an opening statement today?”
Wagmeister stood. “We will reserve our statement for the beginning of the defense case. But we caution the jury that what the prosecution has just presented is just a wish list. We will show substantial problems with every aspect of their case-”
This was outrageous, completely improper speechifying. Controlling the anger that rushed to the top of my head with supreme effort, I stood up. “Objection, Your Honor. If the defense wishes to give an opening statement-”
“Overruled,” the judge said, frowning at me. Wagmeister rolled on, barely missing a beat. This kind of gift didn’t happen often and he knew better than to waste a second of it.
“-and that the defense will soon present important, compelling evidence of our client’s innocence. I thank you all for your kind attention.”
The judge should’ve stopped Wagmeister’s posturing little speech. In fact, he should’ve smacked Wagmeister for even trying it. A crappy jury and a weak judge. Super.
Wagmeister smiled, gave a little bow to the jury, and sat down. Judge Osterman turned to me and said, “Call your first witness.”
I stood and faked a confident voice. “The People call Dr. Graciela Vendi.”
Bailey escorted her in. At nearly six feet tall, Dr. Vendi was one of the few women who could look down on Bailey, and her mop of curly auburn hair made her seem even taller. She strode up to the witness stand and flashed a warm smile at the jury before turning to face the clerk and raise her right hand.
I took her through her credentials and job description. I know some lawyers like to have their expert witnesses talk directly to the jury when they testify, but I think it looks phony-like they’re pretending to have a little fireside chat, or worse, trying to sell them a used car. I also think it can make jurors nervous, like the witness is watching them, gauging their reactions. Which they-hell, we all-are. But bottom line, since I’m the one asking the questions, I think it seems weird to have the witnesses look at anyone else when they’re giving the answers.
“Dr. Vendi, did you conduct the autopsies of Hayley Antonovich and Brian Maher?”
“Yes, I did. And I brought my file containing my reports.” She gestured to the file she was holding.
“If the defense would like to have another look at these documents before I go any further, I’d be glad to let them do so now.” I always make this offer so the defense won’t have an excuse to interrupt the examination if the doctor needs to check her reports to refresh her memory.
“Thank you,” Wagmeister said. He walked up to the witness stand, greeted Dr. Vendi with an insincere smile, and leafed through the folder. I took the opportunity to glance at the defense table. Ian’s sharp designer suit had been replaced with a low-end standard they’d probably found at Sears, and I noticed he’d suddenly developed the need for reading glasses. Seated next to him, so close she was practically in his lap, was a young blonde female law clerk-their idea of Hayley’s proxy. They whispered to each other, leaning in close, lips to ears. In short, every trick in the book to make Powers look harmless and “of the people.”
Hayley’s friends and family, other than Russell, were still in the hallway. I’d advised them to sit this one out, since Vendi’s testimony would be even more graphic than my opening statement.
“Mr. Wagmeister, is there anything in that folder you haven’t seen?” the judge finally asked.
“No, this is fine.” Wagmeister moved back to his side of counsel table.
I waited for the jury to focus on the witness, then I continued. “Dr. Vendi, I’m going to put the photographs you had taken during the autopsy on the monitor. Please refer to those photographs as you describe your findings. I will begin with Hayley Antonovich.”
The first photograph flashed up on the monitor, showing Hayley on the coroner’s table before she’d been undressed or washed. I heard movement in the gallery and when I glanced over, I saw that Russell was leaving.
Dr. Vendi looked at the photograph briefly. “I always begin with a superficial examination. I noted that there were leaves and soil in her hair and on her clothing, thin scratches that appeared to be from tree or shrub branches on her hands, arms, and legs. And of course, the severed carotid in her neck.” Dr. Vendi pointed to the gaping slash across her throat that was the obvious cause of the red stain that soaked the front of Hayley’s T-shirt.
“After that superficial examination, what did you do next?”
“I had the clothing removed and the body cleaned.”
I signaled Declan to move to the next photograph, a tighter shot of Hayley’s upper body. Cleaned, washed, and ghostly white, long blonde hair flowing, she looked angelic-except for the garish red slice bisecting her neck.
“Does this photograph depict the wound you determined to be the cause of death?”
“Yes. You can clearly see where the carotid artery was severed, and what I noted was that it was one long, extremely deep cut. There were none of the hesitation marks that would have indicated either the victim’s struggle or some ambivalence on the killer’s part. Nor were there any defensive wounds on the victim’s hands or arms.”
“Did you happen to note any bruising that might have occurred recently, just prior to death?”
“Objection!” Wagmeister stood. “The doctor can’t say whether the bruising occurred during the homicide.”
“I’ll allow the question,” the judge ruled. “It will be for the jury to determine what weight to give the answer.” He nodded for Dr. Vendi to continue.
“Yes, I found evidence of bruising that appeared very fresh, which would indicate it likely occurred very shortly before death. As you know, we don’t bruise after death because there is no blood pressure.”
“And where did you find that bruising?”
“On her right arm.”
Declan flashed the photograph that showed it.
“You can see the marks here and here.” Dr. Vendi pointed to the spots around the circumference of Hayley’s delicate upper arm. “They appeared to be consistent with finger marks, with someone grabbing her by the arm.”
“Anywhere else?”
“On her left shoulder.” Again, Declan put up the photograph. “Here, this bigger bruise on the front of the left shoulder.”
“And what does that indicate to you?”
“That after grabbing Hayley by the right arm, the killer put his left arm around her body and pulled her back.”
“And then?”
“And then he or she drew a sharp object, likely a knife, across her neck from left to right.”
“What, if anything, did that indicate to you about whether the killer was right- or left-handed?”
“That he or she was right-handed.”
I pointedly looked over at Ian, hoping he was writing a note to his little girl prop-showing he was right-handed. But he had his hands in his lap and a serious, concerned expression on his face. I had no doubt that this pose had been choreographed by Terry. Unlike many of her other clients, Ian was smart enough to follow orders.
“The fact that there were no defensive wounds, what does that indicate to you?”