The Brass Verdict

“My father is one hundred percent Armenian. So I guess that makes me half Armenian and half Floridian. My father said I was Armageddian when I was a girl.”

Many in the courtroom chuckled politely.

“What is your background in forensic sciences?” I asked.

“Well, I’ve got two related degrees. I got my master’s at MIT – the Massachusetts Institute of Technology – and that is in chemical engineering. I then got a PhD in criminology and that was awarded to me from John Jay College in New York.”

“When you say ‘awarded,’ does that mean it’s an honorary degree?”

“Hell, no,” she said forcefully. “I worked my butt off two years to get that sucker.”

This time laughter broke out across the courtroom and I noticed that even the judge smiled before politely tapping his gavel one time for order.

“I saw on your résumé that you have two undergraduate degrees as well. Is that true?”

“I’ve got two of everything, it seems. Two kids. Two cars. I’ve even got two cats at home, named Wilbur and Orville.”

I glanced over at the prosecution table and saw that Golantz and his second were staring straight forward and had not so much as cracked a smile. I then checked the jury and saw all twenty-four eyes holding on my witness with rapt attention. She had them eating out of her hand and she hadn’t even started yet.

“What are your undergraduate degrees?”

“I got one from Harvard in engineering and one from the Berklee College of Music. I went to both schools at the same time.”

“You have a music degree?” I said with feigned surprise.

“I like to sing.”

More laughter. The hits kept coming. One surprise after another. Shami Arslanian was the perfect witness.

Golantz finally stood and addressed the judge.

“Your Honor, the state would ask that the witness provide testimony regarding forensics and not music or pet names or things not germane to the serious nature of this trial.”

The judge grudgingly asked me to keep my examination on point. Golantz sat down. He had won the point but lost the position. Everybody in the room now viewed him as a spoilsport, stealing what little levity there was in such a serious matter.

I asked a few more questions, which revealed that Dr. Arslanian currently worked as a teacher and researcher at John Jay. I covered her history and limited availability as an expert witness and finally brought her testimony to her study of the gunshot residue found on Walter Elliot’s body and clothing on the day of the murders in Malibu. She testified that she reviewed the procedures and results of the sheriff’s lab and conducted her own evaluations and modeling. She said she also reviewed all videotapes submitted to her by the defense in conjunction with her studies.

“Now, Dr. Arslanian, the state’s forensic witness testified earlier in this trial that the tabs wiped on Mr. Elliot’s hands and sleeves and jacket tested positive for elevated levels of certain elements associated with gunshot residue. Do you agree with that conclusion?”

“Yes, I do,” my witness said.

A low vibration of surprise rolled through the room.

“You are saying that your studies concluded that the defendant had gunshot residue on his hands and clothes?”

“That is correct. Elevated levels of barium, antimony and lead. In combination, these are indications of gunshot residue.”

“What does ‘elevated levels’ mean?”

“It just means that some of these materials you would find on a person’s body whether they had fired or handled a weapon or not. Just from everyday life.”

“So it is elevated levels of all three materials that are required for a positive result in gunshot residue testing, correct?”

“Yes, that and concentration patterns.”

“Can you explain what you mean by ‘concentration patterns’?”

“Sure. When a gun discharges – in this case we think we’re talking about a handgun – there is an explosion in the chamber that gives the bullet its energy and velocity. That explosion sends gases out the barrel with the bullet as well as out any little crack and opening in the gun. The breech – that is, the part at the rear of the gun’s barrel – comes open after a shot has been fired. The escaping gases propel these microscopic elements we’re talking about backward onto the shooter.”

“And that’s what happened in this case, correct?”

“No, not correct. Based on the totality of my investigation I cannot say that.”

I raised my eyebrows in feigned surprise.

“But Doctor, you just said you agreed with the state’s conclusion that there was gunshot residue on the defendant’s hands and sleeves.”

“I do agree with the state’s conclusion that there was GSR on the defendant. But that wasn’t the question you asked.”

I took a moment as if to retrace my question.

“Dr. Arslanian, are you saying that there could be an alternate explanation for the gunshot residue on Mr. Elliot?”

“Yes, I am.”

We were there. We had finally arrived at the crux of the defense’s case. It was time to shoot the magic bullet.