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Judge Smulders called for a short break before the prosecution launched its case. Just as well. The jury probably needed time to unpack and consolidate. They’d heard a lot of information in succinct packets from lawyers—and probably didn’t understand the significance of much of it. In opening, lawyers were technically not supposed to argue. They did, of course, but less overtly. Opening was a time for planting seeds, a theme, an idea, a skepticism, that would become important later.
Although the judge gave them ten minutes, he noticed that Kilpatrick did not leave the courtroom. No bathroom or snack break. He also noticed that Kilpatrick did not chat much with his colleagues. Belasco had sent two assistant DAs to sit at the table with him. Probably more gofers than colleagues, or perhaps planted to give the table a local connection. But Kilpatrick was clearly an island unto himself, a man who kept his own counsel. And apparently didn’t need food or bathroom breaks.
He spotted Bradley Ellison entering the courtroom and taking a seat on the back row of the gallery. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Ellison had been investigating the Ossie Coleman case for years. It was only natural that he’d be interested in the trial.
Kilpatrick’s first witness was the medical examiner, Dr. Zanzibar. Dan had crossed Zanzibar many times and knew him to be an essentially reliable medical witness. He might lean in a little to help the prosecutor, but he wasn’t going to flat out lie or make claims broader than the evidence allowed.
Zanzibar was called to establish that a death had occurred. In most cases, this was a pro forma exercise in the obvious, but unless there was proof of death, no murder prosecution could succeed. This case, however, was more complicated than most. Given the virtual destruction of the body, someone could theoretically question whether Harrison Coleman was dead. So Dr. Zanzibar had to discuss trace calcium particles and lye residue. He did it with admirable aplomb, staying scientific while dumbing it down enough to communicate to the jurors. After he finished explaining about amino acid particulate in the drain, no one would be expecting to see Harrison walk through the courtroom doors unexpectedly.
The next witness was Jake Kakazu, one of the first officers to arrive at the crime scene and easily the best courtroom witness on the force. Maybe it was the tony British accent, but Kakazu seemed so relaxed and convincing that sometimes he just wanted to lay down his cards and fold. Kakazu’s hand wasn’t that strong this time around, but he still made an excellent impression.
Kakazu described how, long after Harrison disappeared, someone called the cops. He described Harrison’s office and of course, how he found OSSIE written in the foggy mirror. He established that he immediately taped off the room, including the bathroom, to prevent anyone from contaminating the crime scene. His testimony backed the coroner and would support the evidence later admitted by the forensic experts, but it did nothing to incriminate Ossie.
That part of the prosecution case was yet to come.
After Kilpatrick finished the direct examination, Dan rose to cross. “Was this name written in steam apparent when you first entered the bathroom?”
“No.”
“You had to make it appear.”
“Sort of. I turned on the hot water in the shower. I didn’t write the name.”
“But you could’ve.”
“But I didn’t.”
“How did you know there was a name written in the fog if it wasn’t visible?”
“I didn’t. I just had a hunch.”
“You had a hunch that there was a currently invisible name that would identify the killer? That’s one heck of a hunch.”
“I could see there was something on the mirror. It looked dirty. Of course, it was the oil naturally secreted by human fingers.”
“And you could see that by looking?”
Kakazu was not ruffled in the slightest. “I’ve been working this job a long time.”
“What a happy coincidence that the mysterious message you could see even though it was invisible also identified the killer for you.”
Kilpatrick rose. “Your honor. Mr. Pike is being disrespectful.”
And that’s unusual on cross? “I’m demonstrating how far-fetched this story is, your honor. That’s not disrespect. That’s doing my job.”
Judge Smulders’ brow creased. His cheeks flushed. “Umm...is this an objection thing?”
“Yes,” Kilpatrick said. “I made an objection.”
“Actually,” Dan corrected, “you never said the magic word.”
“Abracadabra?”
“Objection.”
“Oh.” Kilpatrick cleared his throat. “Objection.”
“Grounds?”
“Disrespect to a fifteen-year veteran of the St. Pete police force.”
“Your honor, I cannot effectively cross anyone if he’s going to start complaining about my manners. Cross is meant to be confrontational.”
“It doesn’t have to be rude,” Kilpatrick shot back.
“I hope you remember that when it’s your turn to cross.”
The judge swatted the air. “I don’t think I can go along with this objection. The defense is supposed to cross. Just...you know. Be nicer about it.”
And how exactly did that work? “Thank you, you honor.” He turned back to Kakazu. “I will submit that it is an amazing coincidence that you saw the invisible, made it reappear, and it was exactly what you needed.”
Kakazu smiled. “And I would submit that this is the natural result of experience, training, and a thorough investigation.” He paused. “Just to be clear, I did not write the name on the mirror. I had a sergeant with me at all times. He saw it appear just as I did, when I did.”
“Why would anyone write a name on a mirror like this?”
“I assume the victim did it before he was killed.”
“When did he have time?”
Kakazu shrugged. “After he saw your client enter his office. But before he was murdered.”
“You’re still not telling me why he would do this.”
“To identify his killer.”
“But the killer hadn’t killed him yet.”
“Presumably he could see that the defendant was about to kill him. Or perhaps the defendant said he was about to kill him.”
“So they’d already seen one another. The killer laid eyes on him—then stood there quietly while Harrison wrote his name on the mirror?”
“I don’t know exactly how it happened.”
“Or why. Or when. Detective, isn’t it far more likely that someone else wrote that name on the mirror to incriminate Ossie? Like, the true murderer.”
“I see no reason to assume—”
“The medical examiner testified that the process of decomposing the body with lye required lots of hot water.”
“Yes.”
“Which would create steam. Making it possible to write a name on the mirror.”
“Yes.”
“Why would there be steam before that?”
“I don’t know, but there are many—”
“The one time we know there was steam was when the body was being destroyed. The true killer wouldn’t write his own name.” Pause. “But he might write someone else’s. Don’t you think?”
“Objection,” Kilpatrick said. “Calls for speculation.”
“I agree with that,” the judge said. “So, you know...sustained.”
Dan smiled. “It’s okay. I think the jury got the point.”