Play Dead

The fact that the judge asks about process is a good sign; if he were going to disallow Reggie, then the process would not be important. Coletti seems to sense this as well, and she renews many of her objections to the testimony. I refute them, but we’re going over the same ground.

“I’m going to allow it,” the judge says, and then makes an unusual ruling. All other witnesses, for both sides, will testify before Reggie. His appearance will represent the finale. “See you in court,” he says.

We take this as our cue to leave the chambers, and I immediately head for a phone to call Laurie. I tell her what time to have Karen and Reggie here, and that I will call her back if that changes.

“You’re taking a chance,” Laurie reminds me. “Reggie could go into court and bite your client, and your case, on the ass.”

“You’re right,” I say. “You’d better ask Tara to speak to him.”

She laughs. “Will do. See you later… good luck.”

I take my place in the courtroom, and Richard Evans is brought in. I can see the nervousness etched in his face; he’s experienced the wonder of hope this past couple of weeks, and he knows that it could all come crashing down today.

“You ready?” he asks.

I nod. “Ready.”

He’s searching my face for a clue to his chances, doesn’t find anything particularly reassuring, so he finally nods. “Okay. Me, too.”

* * * * *

WHEN THE JUDGE enters the courtroom and the bailiff calls the case, I get my own butterflies. This hearing represents not only a huge hurdle but also an unfamiliar one for a defense attorney like me. Usually we only need “reasonable doubt” on our side; the prosecution has to have a slam dunk, a unanimous verdict, to win. A hung jury is generally considered a defense victory.

Here the opposite is true. Richard is presumed guilty, and we must decisively prevail to give him another chance. In this case a tie doesn’t go to the runner, and it doesn’t go to the defense. We have to win decisively, and the judge must be persuaded that we would probably win in a new trial.

The first witness I call is probably the most important human witness I’ll call all day. It’s Dr. Gerald King, here to testify on the toxicology and medical reports. I start to take him through his credentials, which are as impressive as they come. Halfway through them, Coletti belatedly offers to stipulate to him as an expert witness.

“Your Honor, I would like you to hear his entire curriculum vitae,” I say.

“It’s not necessary,” Judge Gordon says. “I’m very familiar with the doctor.”

That’s plenty good enough for me, and I don’t push the issue. Instead, I take Dr. King through his description of how the bruise could not have been on the left side of Richard’s head if he had fallen out of bed, and could only have been caused by a rounded, blunt instrument, not by the floor.

Dr. King has brought pictures and charts with him, some of which are identical to those used in the first trial and some which he has created from scratch. His presentation is reasonably compelling, and once I’m satisfied he’s made his point, I move on to the toxicology.

It only takes a few questions before I lead Dr. King into dropping the bomb that the sleeping pills had to be injected or taken in a liquid form, because of the presence of campene. I could lead him even further, but I want to save some ammunition for when the prosecution puts on its rebuttal witness.

Coletti gets up to cross-examine, and she focuses on the bruise first. “Dr. King, you say that if Mr. Evans had fallen from the bed, the bruise would have been on the right side and not the left. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you also conclude that the floor could not have caused the bruise. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Before the pills knocked Mr. Evans out, would they have made him groggy?”

“Certainly.”

“Could he perhaps have staggered around the room, walked into a cabinet or something else, and then fallen to the floor? Could he have sustained the bruise that way?”

“That was not the prosecution version at trial.”

“And there were, and are, experts and evidence to support that version. But if they were wrong, and you are right, could it have happened as I describe?”

He’s trapped; Coletti is very good. “It’s possible.”

“Thank you,” she says. “Now, to this mysterious campene. Are there other ways for campene to enter one’s system? Is it contained in shellfish, for instance?”

“Yes.”

“Could he have ingested it that way?”

I can almost see Dr. King salivate at this; maybe Coletti is not so good. “If he did, he would have been dead when the Coast Guard got there.”

“Why is that?” she asks.

Here comes a great moment, and I envy Dr. King that he gets to say it. He waits a beat; his timing is perfect. “Mr. Evans is severely allergic to shellfish; it’s in his medical records.”