Steve spent Sunday finishing his review of the state’s case in chief. As expected, Battel followed the script he had presented in his opening statement.
Dr. Peterson gave what amounted to a dry and boring recitation of the injuries sustained by Ashley. Since death was an element of every murder charge, the state had to prove beyond a reasonable doubt the victim died and how she died. Over the course of two hundred pages, Dr. Peterson left no doubt that Ashley’s cause of death was loss of blood from the numerous knife wounds she sustained to her body.
Next was the DNA expert, Dr. Feinstein. Once again, the tedious nature of this testimony seeped through the court reporter’s typewritten recreation. She spent what was probably more than an hour detailing her own training and expertise. Following her self-introduction was two more hours explaining the procedures used to examine the skin discovered under Ashley’s fingernails. The results confirmed that the skin beneath her nails came from Scottie’s body.
Last to take the stand in the state’s case in chief was Officer Matthews. After being sworn in, he testified that he found Scottie at the motel with wet hair and only a pair of shorts on. Matthews also testified that he could see scratches on Scottie’s neck and face. Finally, Officer Matthews testified that Scottie didn’t seem surprised they were there to arrest him.
There was nothing constitutionally defective about the testimony thus far, but there was one section that caught Steve’s attention: the only time during the entire trial that Hixon had actually seemed to be defending Scottie.
***
August 4, 2009—Rogers County Courthouse
Officer Matthews sat on the stand, dressed in his Claremore Police Department uniform. By this time, he had been testifying for a couple of hours, but the young cop still appeared fresh and excited to be contributing to such a high-profile murder case.
“Was Scottie dressed when you arrested him?” Hixon asked.
“Yes. We knocked on the door. Announced who we were. He came out willingly,” Matthews replied.
“What was he wearing?”
“As best I can recall. He had on an orange Oklahoma State
Cowboys T-shirt and blue jeans.”
“Was there blood anywhere on his clothing?”
“No.”
“Did you find any clothes with blood on them?”
“Clothes? No. But a few weeks later, we did find a pair of bloody tennis shoes in a field near the home. A local rancher found them in a plastic Walmart bag. During the investigation, we were able to ascertain the shoes belonged to the defendant, Scottie.”
“But no clothes? Correct?”
“Correct.”
“No shirt?”
“Correct.”
“No jeans or pants?”
“Correct.”
“Did you search the hotel room and his vehicle for bloody clothing?”
“Yes.”
“Let me show you what has been marked as state’s exhibit thirty-six. This is a picture of the victim lying in the living room of her home.” Hixon handed the photo to Matthews.
“Would you agree with me that there is a lot of blood around Mrs. Pinkerton?” asked Hixon.
“Yes,” responded Matthews. “And you can even see in this photo the prints that matched the soles of the shoes we found in the field.”
“Okay,” Hixon continued. “And the shoes you found had blood on them?”
“Correct.”
“Okay. So… what I want to know is if you would agree with me that, with that much blood, whomever did this would have had blood all over them? All over their clothes. Their shirt. Their pants. Wouldn’t that be the case?”
“Objection,” interrupted Battel. “That calls for expertise beyond what this witness has testified to. We would need a blood splatter expert to answer that question.”
“Your Honor,” Hixon said, “I am merely asking this man’s lay opinion from looking at the pictures. When you look at this photo, I believe it is clear we don’t need an expert to tell if blood would have gotten on the person who committed this crime.”
“I am going to sustain the objection,” McClintock said. “The jury has seen the photos; they can form their own lay opinions. I believe an expert would be necessary to give an opinion from the witness stand. I’d ask the jury to disregard the question as to this witness. Continue, Mr. Hixon, with a new line of questioning.”
“Regardless of whether or not you think the perpetrator of this crime would have been covered in blood, the only clothing you found with blood on it was the running shoes discovered in the field?”
“Correct.” Said Officer Mathews.
“No more questions, Your Honor,” Hixon said as he sat down.
Battel stood up next. “How did you determine the tennis shoes you found were the same shoes that left the bloody footprints at the scene?”
“We were able to match the pattern from the shoes with the pattern in the floor,” Matthews answered.
“How were you able to determine the shoes belonged to the defendant?”
“We found pictures of him wearing the shoes a week before the crime. Also, the shoes in the picture were never discovered in the residence.”
“Anything else?” Battel prompted.
“The shoes we found were size nine-and-a-half. All of the other men’s shoes found in the home were the same size. From this information, we deduced the bloody shoes belonged to Scottie.”
“Since you found the shoes in a field near the home, would you assume the defendant disposed of the shoes and his other clothes on his way from the murder scene to the hotel?”
“Objection,” interrupted Hixon. “Calls for speculation.”
“Sustained. Members of the jury, you shall please disregard the last question,” said Judge McClintock.
“No more questions, Your Honor,” Battel said.
***
Of course not, Steve thought. You already made your point despite the judge’s instruction. The jury is now thinking Scottie ditched the bloody shoes and clothes on his way to the hotel.
Steve added a number twelve to his list of possible claims for relief. Steve believed Judge McClintock’s decision not to allow the testimony of Matthews regarding blood on the assailant’s clothes was an error. The officer should have been allowed to give his lay opinion about the subject.
Will it be enough to win a new trial? Steve scrutinized the transcript. He didn’t know if it was enough, but he did know that, at this point, he needed to look for even the slightest issue that might turn out to be the winning argument. He knew that in this line of work, it was his job to throw everything possible at the federal court and hope something triggered a favorable decision from the court. He remembered one case, when he was a clerk, where the judge he was working with made him thoroughly research an argument he himself did not think was very strong, but the judge ended up being right.
It was now late Sunday night, and Steve’s review of the second stage of the trial would have to wait until another day.
A little over two weeks had passed since Steve had filed for the Court to appoint him a private investigator. As he sat in his living room hoping he would hear something soon, his doorbell rang.
“Mr. Thomas, what are you doing here? And how did you find my house?”
“First, did you forget I’m a private investigator? Moreover you don’t cover your tracks at all. It took me about two minutes to find your address.”
“Second, after you left thoughts of your case have been rattling around in my brain. This weekend I finally had time to do a little independent research. Once I discovered that racist asshole Deputy Blackburn was the investigative officer, I decided to take the case. Nothing I would love more than to show the world how incompetent he was in his investigation. You will be getting the order with my official appointment tomorrow, but I decided to swing by and get started.”
Steve grinned widely and reached his hand out to welcome him to their new team. Booger entered and Steve started the process of bringing Booger up to speed on everything he had found.
The next morning Steve was able to amend his appointment request with Deputy Warden Gilcrease to add Booger to the list. Once she heard she was going to get to see Booger, she acquiesced immediately.
The team was now almost to the prison for their visit. “How many times you been to death row?” Booger asked as they veered right off of the Indian Nations Turnpike and followed the exit ramp that led to the prison.
“To be honest, this is only my second time. My last meeting with Scottie was my first time ever.”
“Pretty amazing how they can legally keep these fellas in a modern-day dungeon. Everything but a stretching rack, huh?”
“Yeah,” responded Steve, recalling the dismal conditions of H-Unit. “I know they call it a bunker, but I agree ‘dungeon’ seems to fit a lot better. I was more than a little disturbed by the conditions when I was last there. I can’t imagine living in a cell underground, with the only sky you ever see being through those overhead grates for only an hour a day.”
“Well, that is a legal fight for you to have another day. Today, we need to get Scottie’s story and see how the pictures, testimony, and other evidence fits in with his version of what happened. I want you to do all the talking; that way, I can observe his body language freely. When I told you I can spot a lie a mile away, I wasn’t kidding.”
Steve nodded in agreement. There was no doubt in Steve’s mind that the retired investigator was the equivalent of a human lie detector.