“Yes.”
“And that’s because you need to follow certain procedures in order to ensure that evidence doesn’t get contaminated, right?”
“Right.”
“One of the biggies in terms of things you should never do is bring a suspect’s blood sample into the lab while evidence is being tested?”
“Yes, that would be a very bad thing to do.”
“Tell us why, Mr. Gelfer.”
“Because PCR is a very sensitive testing method. If you bring a suspect’s blood sample into the lab while you’re testing an evidence bloodstain, you run the risk of contaminating the evidence stain with the suspect’s blood sample.”
“And that would make the suspect’s DNA show up in the evidence bloodstain, wouldn’t it?”
“Well…I…it could.”
“To be more specific: If you brought Mr. Power’s blood sample-the blood you removed from his arm-into the lab while you were testing the bloodstain on Brian’s car, you could contaminate that stain with Ian’s DNA. And that would make it look as though Ian’s DNA was in the blood on the trunk of Brian’s car when it really wasn’t. Isn’t that true?”
“Objection!” I’d had enough of this b.s. questioning based on shadows, smoke, and mirrors. “Improper hypothetical, Your Honor. There is no evidence whatsoever that there was any contamination here.”
Terry didn’t wait for the judge to rule. “Actually, Your Honor”-Terry brandished a stapled sheaf of papers-“These are the quality control and proficiency test results that just came in this morning on Mr. Gelfer and his lab.”
“Does the prosecution have these reports?” the judge asked.
This had to be some kind of scam. Some smack written about SID by a defense hack so he could get his name in print and his butt on the witness stand in a high-profile case. I tried to look unconcerned as I answered. “No, Your Honor. I need time to review these reports before cross continues. It’s unfair to allow questioning based on data I’ve had no chance to examine.”
“I’m not going to take up this jury’s time with a recess, Ms. Knight. You can review the documents briefly now and I’ll give you some extra time to go over them during a regular break, before redirect-”
“But Your Honor, this is-”
“I’ve ruled! Ms. Fisk, give the prosecution-and the witness-a copy of the reports and proceed with your cross.”
A law clerk trotted over with the report. The top of the front page showed the ASCLD/LAB emblem-American Society of Crime Laboratory Directors/Laboratory Accreditation Board-telling me this was no sham. This was the real deal. And just issued that morning? How the hell had Terry gotten these reports? My knees suddenly felt like Jell-O. I sank into my seat. Holding on to a neutral expression as best I could, I skimmed the findings. The words “Errors” and “Unsatisfactory” jumped out at me. Oh, God. This was bad. Very, very bad. A roaring in my ears kept me from hearing the beginning of Terry’s next question. I leaned over to Declan and whispered, “What’d she just say?”
Declan looked pale. “Just asked if he’d seen the report.”
Gelfer adjusted his glasses. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead. When he answered, he was short of breath.
“N-no. I didn’t know it was out yet.”
“But you can see that it’s from ASCLD/LAB, right?”
“Yes.”
“Please tell the jury what ASCLD/LAB is.”
He explained that ASCLD/LAB is an organization that sets the standards for lab and tech procedures and administers the testing that determines whether a lab should be accredited.
“And just so the jury understands, Mr. Gelfer. Your lab, and all the criminalists in it, are tested every so often to make sure your labs are being run properly and you’re all following standard procedures, isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” Gelfer’s voice cracked.
“Then ASCLD/LAB writes up a report of how you all did on that test, correct?”
“That’s right, yes.”
“And a couple of months ago, all of you techs and your lab underwent blind or undeclared tests to check on whether proper procedures were being followed, right?”
“Right.”
“These pages I’m holding appear to be a report on your last set of blind tests, don’t they?”
“From what I’ve seen…yes.”
“I’m going to let you look at this page for a moment before I ask a few questions.” Terry glanced back at me. “Page seven, Counsel.”
I flipped to the page, fighting the urge to squeeze my eyes shut, and forced myself to read. It was like having to walk through a curtain of razors.
Terry continued. “This page shows that one of your fellow techs didn’t follow enzyme activation and cycling times. Without going into all the gory details, that’s a big no-no, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But it wouldn’t cause the DNA in an evidence sample to change. I mean-”
“Not saying it would, Mr. Gelfer. But it would affect the validity of any result you got, wouldn’t it?”
“It-well, more likely it would prevent us from getting any result.”
“Fair enough. Another tech failed to wipe down the table with ethanol after using lab cleaner-also a big no-no, isn’t that right?”
“It’s…a problem, but-”
“But that didn’t result in contamination, is that what you wanted to say, Mr. Gelfer?”
“Yes.”
“I agree. Now turn to page nine.”
Heart pounding, I found the page. When I saw what was written there, I wanted to bang my head on the table, then put my fist through a wall. Instead, I leaned back and doodled on my notepad. And tried not to look like I knew the biggest case of my career was about to explode in my face. When Gelfer finished reading the page, he looked like he was going to cry.
“That blind test did involve a contamination mistake, isn’t that right, Mr. Gelfer?”
Gelfer swallowed, then answered. “It-it seems so.”
It was almost physically painful to watch him up there. Like a man in the stocks, helpless to avoid the rocks being thrown at his head.
“And what happened was exactly what I mentioned earlier: a suspect’s blood sample-blood that had been drawn from his arm-was brought into the lab where evidence was being tested. Right?”
“Yeah, uh, yes.”
“As a result, the evidence sample did in fact get contaminated with the suspect’s blood. Meaning the suspect’s DNA showed up in that evidence sample, didn’t it?”
Gelfer glanced down at the page again. “It…yes, it did.”
“But it turned out that result couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be the suspect’s blood in that evidence stain, because the evidence pertained to a cold case. The suspect hadn’t even been born when that crime was committed. So when the suspect’s DNA showed up in that evidence stain, there was no question that it had to have been caused by contamination. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“Now, please turn to page ten.”
Gelfer obediently turned the page, looking like a whipped dog.
“Tell us. Who is the tech that made that grievous mistake, Mr. Gelfer?”
Gelfer’s eyes moved down the page. His face, already pale, now sagged as he stared at the report, slack-jawed. Without looking up, he replied in a choked whisper, “Me.”
The moment the word left his mouth, a gasp went up in the audience. An unnatural stillness settled over the courtroom, like the calm before a tornado. I sat motionless, holding my body erect with an effort as shock waves ran from my numbed brain to my toes. Seconds later, the silence was broken by the rapid shuffling of feet in the spectators’ gallery behind me. Reporters were running for the door. This was going to hit every television and radio station in the country in about five minutes. By tomorrow morning, it’d be front-page news. I could already see the headlines: “Cornerstone of Prosecution’s Case Crumbles!” And the worst part of it was, I couldn’t even blame the defense. This was all on us. The knowledge was almost too painful to process.