| |
Dan appreciated the five-minute break Judge Durant called after Mitch was excused. He knew from experience that a five-minute break would become a ten-minute break if not twenty, and at this juncture, he was not in a hurry. He needed time to think. He’d barely laid a glove on Mitch and he’d certainly not done enough to inspire the judge to overturn a jury verdict.
He still the distinct feeling he was missing something. Something important. He’d been paying attention—watching, listening, intertwining facts, but somehow, his renowned ability to “connect the dots” wasn’t working.
He pulled Ben aside. “How did that examination play?”
Ben shrugged. “Not as well as I’d hoped. But it wasn’t your fault. I don’t think Mitch is our killer.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“No. But we don’t need personal beliefs to postulate a SODDIT.”
“I thought he was lying.”
“So did David, who I had the misfortune of sitting next to during the questioning.”
“What did he say?”
“Something about Mitch being a “pervy stalker wannabe.”
“Milder than I expected.”
“There was more. Expletives deleted.”
“You’re very Nixonian.”
“I hope not.”
“You used the phrase—”
“I was alive in the ‘70s. Don’t rub it in.”
Dan glanced at his watch. Time was fleeting. “Any suggestions?”
“Get more out of the next one. If we have two weak witnesses in a row, the judge will stop paying attention.”
“Easy to say.” Dan spotted David wandering aimlessly up and down the courthouse hallway, his two marshal babysitters following him from a distance. Didn’t seem to be any purpose to his movements. Maybe it was just the novelty of having freedom of movement. Somewhere other than a prison yard.
He waved David over. “Don’t worry. We’re just getting started.”
“I couldn’t tell that you’d started yet.”
“We don’t think Mitch is the killer.”
“But he’s still a pervy stalker. Couldn’t you do more to bring that out?”
“Despite what you may have seen on television, judges tend to frown on bringing up irrelevancies to smear the witness. And since he says he’s gay, that could be misinterpreted as homophobia.”
“I think his stalker status is directly relevant to the case.”
Dan smiled. “That’s why you have lawyers.”
* * *
Dan had been planning to call the professor next, but the doctor was already at the courthouse, and he thought it might be smart to change things up. Follow Mitch with a professional woman. Granted, he was only putting her on the stand so he could accuse her of murder. But still. He didn’t want the judge to think all his witnesses were pervy stalker losers.
As efficiently as possible, Dan established that Dr. Marilyn Southern was a nephrologist with offices at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, which was not far from campus. She was Donovan’s doctor, but she had also been in touch with Claudia Wells, even to the point of discussing his case. She’d been practicing for over fourteen years and, at least according to her, was one of the leading transplant surgeons in the country. She went to med school at Johns Hopkins and completed a residency at Yale.
“We don’t need a great deal of detail, Dr. Southern, but could you give the jury some information about the medical condition my client currently suffers from?”
“He has end-stage renal disease. That’s the most common cause for transplants, although they can also be needed in some instances for diabetics and those suffering from extreme hypertension. He’s currently getting dialysis three times a week to remove wastes and other toxic substances from his blood. His creatinine levels are well over 1.9 and have been for a long time. He needs a transplant.”
“Is that going to happen?”
“Not if he remains in prison. Kidneys are in short supply. And although some feel it’s inappropriate to make value judgments about who should get them—I can’t imagine a convicted murderer getting an organ when so many children and non-felons need one.”
“In that sense,” he said, looking at the judge, “this hearing is a life-and-death proposition.”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“How long have you been treating my client?”
“Over four years now.”
“How did you come to know Claudia Wells?”
Dr. Southern recrossed her legs. “As I think you know, she was dating David. They may have been engaged.”
Really? He hadn’t heard that before. Not even from his client.
“She often came with him for doctor’s appointments and dialysis. She seemed very supportive.”
“Did you like her?”
ADA Chee rose to her feet. “Objection. Relevance.”
Dan’s brows knitted. “We’re exploring whether people had a motive for murder. Asking about the witness’ relationship with the victim is directly relevant.”
Judge Durant licked his lips. “‘Directly relevant’ might be pushing it. But I’ll allow the question.”
The doctor answered. “Yes, I did. I love music and I’ve always had a great admiration for musicians. I could see that her support was keeping David alive.” She paused. “Even now...despite the circumstances...I can see how much he misses her.”
And thus would never think about killing her? He decided not to push his luck. “You texted Claudia several times.”
“Yes.”
“Is that appropriate? Talking to third persons about your patient’s medical history?”
“David explicitly authorized it. In writing.”
“See any signs of stress? Arguing? Fighting?”
“Can’t say that I did. I thought he loved her deeply. And I could see why.”
“In your experience, do men who love women deeply typically murder them?”
Chee was back on her feet. “Objection. Argumentative. And not relevant.”
“No, let me answer,” Southern said, her arm outstretched. No one said anything, so she continued. “I do think David loved her. And depended upon her. But that doesn’t mean he was incapable of committing a crime. He was under a lot of stress, both because of his medical condition and his financial condition. I think she was helping with both.”
“Surely you’re not suggesting—”
“All I’m saying is that when people are stressed, they sometimes become unpredictable. They lash out against those trying to help them. And David was on a lot of medication.”
He remembered what Ben had said earlier. Love makes you do the crazy. “Did you ever see my client act in a dangerous or threatening manner toward Claudia?”
“I did not.”
“Good. Let’s not make any suggestions that aren’t based on what you've actually seen or heard.”
She shrugged. “You asked the question.”
Time to change the subject. “Were you aware that the victim kept an extremely valuable violin in her dorm room?”
“Is there anyone who doesn’t know about it at this point?”
“But before the murder.”
“Yes. She’d mentioned it. More than once.”
“In what context?”
“She contemplated selling it to help pay for her boyfriend’s medical expenses.”
He didn’t see that coming, but it was helpful. David had no reason to steal the violin if she was planning to sell it to pay his bills. “Didn’t he have health insurance?”
“Yes, but that isn’t enough, as most Americans know. Especially when major surgery is needed. I absolutely forbid her to sell that instrument and told her we wouldn’t take the money if she did. There had to be other ways.”
“As I think you know, the violin has vanished.”
“Are you suggesting I might’ve stolen the violin?”
“Someone did. You knew about it.”
“I didn’t steal it.”
“That would be perfect, wouldn’t it? Stage a theft so she can file a claim with her insurer. While you keep the violin and sell it quietly on the black market to pay for a kidney.”
“Why am I being accused?” She craned her neck to look at the judge. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t need money. Claudia found a way to help David without selling the violin.”
“How much do you make?”
Southern’s neck stiffened. “That is none of your business.”
“I’m told Claudia’s violin could fetch close to a million dollars from the right buyer. That would improve anyone’s bottom line.”
Southern began to look irritated and indignant. “I don’t need it. Or want it.”
“Maybe you’d like to start your own clinic. And need seed money.”
“At this point in my life? No thank you.”
“Did you know the combination to Claudia’s safe?”
“No. But your client did.”
Now she was fighting back. “Why do you say that now? You never said it before.”
“I don’t recall that it came up before. But they talked about it at one of the dialysis sessions. They take a while and she usually stayed with him, usually held his hand. And once I heard her ask if he would get the violin later and bring it to her. So he must’ve known the combination.”
“Why did she want it?”
“Not sure. I think she had some kind of performance scheduled. I can’t remember the entire conversation. But she winked and said, ‘Go back to my place and play the Military Drumroll Surprise.’”
Back at the defense table, he saw Ben sit up. He’d read those cryptic words before. In Claudia’s diary.
“What did it mean?”
“No idea.”
“To summarize, you knew about the violin and you knew there was a combination safe in Claudia’s dorm room.”
“But I’m not stupid and I don’t need money.”
“Then why did Claudia give you a check for over 123,000 bucks?”
Southern slowly eased back into her chair. “As you already know, she was trying to get your client a kidney. From a foreign country where the buying and selling of organs is legal under certain circumstances.”
“Or maybe it was hush money?” He didn’t believe that, but if he suggested something worse than the truth, maybe it would make her more likely to admit the truth.
“Hush money? For what?”
Chee was back on her feet with another objection. “Your honor, this is uncalled for.”
Dan didn’t even blink. “Is that an objection?”
“He’s basically accusing the witness of committing a crime.”
Dan looked up at the judge. “Your honor, this is, in effect, cross-examination.”
Judge Durant nodded. “The objection—if that’s what it was—is overruled. The witness will answer.”
“It was not hush money. What in God’s name would she be trying to hush?”
“Maybe something that got her killed.”
“I’m not keeping anyone’s secrets. Or hiding any of my own.”
“But she paid you all that money.”
A long hesitation. “I’m a physician. I work at a Catholic hospital. We do things by the book. But it’s well known that organs can be obtained...other ways. There are a few places that allow people to flat-out buy a kidney. But even that becomes complicated, when you’ve got Customs and foreign governments involved. There are simpler alternatives.”
“You’re saying Claudia paid you to get a black-market kidney?”
“No. I was just the...conduit.”
“Doctor, I’ve reviewed your bank records, and I know that money hasn’t gone anywhere. You’ve written no checks nor made any withdrawals.”
“No. I told you already. I’m holding it in escrow. We never found a kidney.”
“Then shouldn’t you return the money?”
“To whom? It came from Claudia’s trust fund. I believe she would want me to continue looking. Now more than ever, given the circumstances. I don’t think David is getting a kidney the usual way and he doesn’t have much time left.”
They’d bantered long enough. It was time to get mean. “You know what I think? I think you’re a smart, determined woman, and if you’d wanted to find a black-market kidney, it would’ve already happened.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I think that you want money. Maybe to change your career. Maybe so you can retire. I know you’re carrying a lot of debt and the mortgage on that Brentwood mansion is costing you over nine thousand bucks a month.”
Even Judge Durant’s eyes widened.
“Isn’t it true that Claudia wanted the money back?”
“How did you—”
“It’s in her diary.” Although he hadn’t understood what it meant until just this moment. ‘Asked doc to return the booty. Refused.’”
Southern took a long, slow breath. “Since I hadn’t found a kidney, after a time, she asked me to return the money.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I was going to. I just didn’t—didn’t—”
“Want to.”
Her voice rose in volume. “It’s not that simple.”
“Seems pretty simple to me. You write a check. Takes about five seconds.”
“We had to disguise the transaction. For tax purposes. I didn’t want it to be perceived as income. Or a gift. And before I could figure out how to handle it, she was dead.”
“I think you blackmailed her. Pay me some money or your boyfriend dies. So she paid you off. And then you stole the violin. Or maybe she gave it to you to keep you quiet or compliant. Or maybe you kept it against her will because you were greedy and you wanted more.”
“That’s ridiculous. You can’t prove any of—”
“Here’s what I can prove. You deliberately withheld this information about refusing to return the money from David’s defense team and the police.”
“It had nothing—”
“Therefore, by definition, this is newly discovered evidence that casts doubt on the trial-court verdict. A jury can’t be expected to reach a correct conclusion if it doesn’t have all the critical facts. And you withheld facts.”
“It was no one’s business but—”
“Try telling that to David. Do you know how many days he’s spent in prison for a crime he didn’t commit?”
Her face flushed. “I did not take that violin. And I certainly did not kill Claudia.”
“That’s a question for the jury. Which is exactly why you made sure they didn’t know everything there was to know.”