Every nerve ending, every muscle, every ounce of blood in my body wanted me to turn around and look at Christine, but I knew that if I did that I risked losing it completely. The battle was in this trial.
I told myself to stay focused.
I whispered to David, “Don’t worry. We’re okay.” We were pretty far from okay.
Swallowing down his fear, David patted my arm. He still believed in me.
At least somebody did.
“Officer Noble,” said Zader.
A thin man wearing glasses, blue jeans, a red and blue checkered shirt, and a hopelessly mismatched white tie strode forward and took the witness stand. He wore cowboy boots, which, inexplicably, made the whole ensemble come together.
After Officer Rudy Noble was sworn in, he began polishing his glasses with the end of his tie. The DA’s first questions established Noble as the experienced CSI who’d examined both the victim and the crime scene and had documented his investigation with the photographs.
“Officer Noble, given your extensive examination of the crime scene, and given the ME’s findings, what were your conclusions as to how the murder occurred?” said Zader.
“Given the wounds on the victim and the rounds found embedded in the victim’s skull and in the concrete beneath the tiled floor, the head shots were inflicted when the victim was lying facedown on the floor. That leads me to believe that she was initially shot from behind. There are two bullet entry wounds in the victim’s lumbar area. One round became lodged in the victim’s spine. The other was a through-and-through. It is—”
“Sorry, can I just stop you there for a moment? What is a through-and-through?” said Rollins; tax attorneys didn’t deal with too many gunshot victims.
“It’s a term used to describe a bullet that enters the victim and passes through the body completely.”
“I understand. Please continue,” said Rollins.
“It’s my belief, based on the evidence, that this second bullet went through the victim’s back, leaving a large exit wound in the chest, and it was this round that went on to travel through the window.”
“How did you arrive at the conclusion that it was this bullet that shattered the window?”
“We found an empty clip at the crime scene and another empty clip in the murder weapon, which was found in the defendant’s vehicle. This weapon holds seven rounds per magazine. Fourteen shell casings were found on the kitchen floor. Altogether thirteen rounds were found either in the victim or in the floor beneath the victim’s head. One fired round is unaccounted for. It’s a reasonable conclusion that this round passed through the victim, broke the glass, and was subsequently lost to us.”
“What is beyond the balcony window?”
“The window overlooks Central Park. We have searched an area of the park but have been unable to locate the spent round.”
“In the ME’s report, it is her view that the bullet that became lodged in the victim’s spine may have killed the victim instantly, or certainly paralyzed her. Given your expertise, what view can reasonably be taken of the head shots after the victim has already sustained a near fatal wound?”
“Passion. To my mind, the head shots were overkill. They were not the work of any kind of professional killer—this was a rage killing.”
“What makes you certain of that?”
“The killer reloaded. And then spent the entire magazine.”
“Are there any official statistics in relation to homicides involving this level of violence?”
“Yes. Where a homicide has taken place in the home, and a high level of damage has occurred to the victim postmortem, statistics tell us that in ninety-four point eight nine percent of those cases, the victim was killed by a spouse or a partner.”
And with that, Zader sat down. My witness.
I stood silently, waiting for Rollins to raise his head from his notes and listen to my question. A whole ten seconds passed before the judge had the courtesy to pay attention. It felt like ten minutes. Noble had time to take a sip of water, then readjust his tie and check his glasses. I had time to think, to worry. Just before Judge Rollins fixed me with a disdainful look, Cooch got up, put a hand on my shoulder, and whispered, “Shake it off, Eddie.”
My mind cleared and I started slowly.
“Officer, presumably you tested the murder weapon for fingerprints, yes?”
“Correct. None were found.”
“Yes, I read your report. You say that the only fingerprints found were those of Officer Philip Jones, who recovered the weapon from the defendant’s car, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“But you also made another observation in your report. You say that when you expended the empty clip, you found a small amount of dirt?”
“Yes, a little soil. It was just an observation. I have to record all of my findings when I examine a weapon.”
Time to move on. Time to start flipping Gershbaum.
“Officer Noble, you were in court just now to hear the evidence of Mr. Gershbaum, is that right?”
“Yes. I listened to Mr. Gershbaum’s evidence.”
“Then why is it that you say Mr. Gershbaum is lying?”
Judge Rollins pulled a face, flicked back over his notes.
“Is the witness calling Mr. Gershbaum a liar, Mr. Flynn? That’s not what I have in my notes,” said Rollins.
“That is the effect of his testimony, Your Honor. Please allow me to explore the point.”
“Very well, but I am taking a careful note, Mr. Flynn. And please, be more specific.”
I nodded, breathed in and out, and tried again.
“Officer Noble, Mr. Gershbaum says he heard gunfire, he went to his balcony to check the street below, and then he saw the window of the defendant’s apartment explode. He said that after the window exploded, he didn’t hear any further gunshots. Do you accept that was Mr. Gershbaum’s evidence?”
“I accept that he said all of those things. And I’m not calling him a liar,” said Noble, hands open, a smirk on his face.
“But you are, Officer Noble. You say the first two bullet wounds on the victim are in the lumbar area—one shot exiting the body and one paralyzing her and possibly killing her, and then she suffers the shots to the head. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“But on Mr. Gershbaum’s testimony, the shot that you describe passing through the victim and shattering the window is likely to be the first or second shot while the victim is standing in front of the window—followed by the point-blank firing to the back of the head when the victim was on the ground. Mr. Gershbaum did not hear any shots after the window exploded.”
“I can’t speak for Mr. Gershbaum. I can only evaluate the evidence.”
“The evidence, yes. It’s possible that the weapon may have had a full magazine of seven rounds and an additional round already chambered. Isn’t that right?”
“It’s possible. But we didn’t find a fifteenth shell casing in the apartment.”
“You never found the bullet that passed through the glass either?”
“No, we haven’t yet.”
“So it’s possible the killer could’ve picked up this shell casing and tossed it out of the window?” I asked.
“I can’t say that’s impossible.”
“You mean, ‘Yes, Mr. Flynn, it is possible,’” I said.
I heard a wet, unpleasant sound as Judge Rollins sucked his teeth. He shook his head as he took a note of the answer. Noble reacted like a third grader who’d just been put in detention.
“Yes. Mr. Flynn. It … is … possible.”
“I have just a few more questions. I want you to explain why you believe the bullet that passed through the victim shattered the window. Couldn’t the victim have been lying facedown when this shot was fired into her lumbar area?”
I’d taken too long. Zader was on his feet. He’d caught the whiff of blood in the air and was desperately trying to limit the damage.
“Your Honor, this is a preliminary hearing, not the Nuremberg Trials. Mr. Flynn is dragging this out unnecessarily.”
“I’m coming to the end of my cross shortly, Your Honor. Surely it’s in the interests of justice and my client’s right to a fair hearing that I am allowed just a little more time.”
“Make it fast,” said Rollins.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” I said, then switched my attention back to Noble. He was smiling. He’d had time to think of an answer, and I prayed it was the right one, the one I’d been waiting for.
“It’s impossible for the victim to have been lying facedown when this shot was fired through her body for two reasons. First, we would’ve found a great deal of blood and tissue on the floor beneath the victim. Second, we would’ve either found the bullet in the floor or ricochet marks where the bullet struck the tile.”
Blood flushed my cheeks. Zader saw it, and his face dropped. He knew, before I even opened my mouth, that I’d set a trap for his witness, who’d just walked straight in.
“Your Honor,” I said, “I have rebuttal evidence, which I’d like to submit.”