A Darkness More Than Night (28 page)
Langwiser brought the search warrant forward to the judge and it was received into evidence. She took it back with her to the lectern. Bosch then testified that the search of the home on Mulholland Drive was conducted at
6 A.M.
two days after the initial interview with Storey.
6 A.M.
two days after the initial interview with Storey.
“The search warrant authorized you to seize any evidence of Jody Krementz’s murder, any evidence of her belongings and any evidence of her presence in that location, is that correct?”
“Correct.”
“Who conducted the search?”
“Myself, my partners and a two-man forensics team. We also had a photographer, for video and stills. A total of six.”
“How long did the search last?”
“Approximately seven hours.”
“Was the defendant present during the search?”
“For most of it. He had to leave at one point for a meeting with a movie actor he said he couldn’t postpone. He was gone approximately two hours. During that time his personal attorney, Mr. Fleer, remained in the house and monitored the search. We were never left alone in the house, if that is what you are asking.”
Langwiser flipped through the pages of the search warrant, coming to the end of it.
“Now, Detective, when you seize any items during a court-approved search, you are required by law to keep an inventory on the search warrant receipt, correct?”
“Yes.”
“This receipt is then filed with the court, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell us then, why is this receipt blank?”
“We did not take any items from the house during the search.”
“You found nothing that indicated that Jody Krementz had been inside Mr. Storey’s house, as he had told you she had been?”
“Nothing.”
“This search took place how many days after the evening Mr. Storey told you he had taken Ms. Krementz to his house and engaged in sexual relations with her?”
“Five days from the night of the murder, two days from our interview with Mr. Storey.”
“You found nothing in support of Mr. Storey’s statement.”
“Nothing. The place was clean.”
Bosch knew she was trying to turn a negative into a positive, somehow trying to imply that the unsuccessful search was an indication of Storey’s guilt.
“Would you call this an unsuccessful search?”
“No. Success doesn’t enter into it. We were looking for evidence that would corroborate his statement as well as any evidence of possible foul play relating to Ms. Krementz. We found nothing in the house indicative of this. But sometimes it is not what you find, it’s what you don’t.”
“Can you explain that to the jury?”
“Well, it is true we didn’t take any evidence from the house. But we found something missing that would later become important to us.”
“And what was that?”
“A book. A missing book.”
“How did you know it was missing if it wasn’t there?”
“In the living room of the house there was a large built-in bookcase. Each shelf was full of books. On one shelf there was a space — a slot — where a book had been but was now gone. We could not find what book that might be. There were no books sitting out loose in the house. At the time it was just a small thing. Someone had obviously taken a book from the shelf and not replaced it. It was just kind of curious to us that we could not figure out where or what it was.”
Langwiser offered two still photographs of the bookcase taken during the search as exhibits. Houghton accepted them over a routine objection from Fowkkes. The photos showed the bookcase in its entirety and a close-up of the second shelf with the open space between a book called
The Fifth Horizon
and a biography of the film director John Ford called
Print the Legend.
The Fifth Horizon
and a biography of the film director John Ford called
Print the Legend.
“Now, Detective,” Langwiser said, “you said that at the time you did not know if this missing book had any importance or bearing on the case, correct?”
“That is right.”
“Did you eventually determine what book had been taken from the shelf?”
“Yes, we did.”
Langwiser paused. Bosch knew what she was going to do. The dance had been choreographed. He thought of her as a good storyteller. She knew how to string it along, keep people hooked in, take them to the edge of the cliff and then pull them back.
“Well, let’s take things in order,” she said. “We’ll come back to the book. Now did you have occasion to talk to Mr. Storey on the day of the search?”
“He mostly kept to himself and was on the phone most of the time. But we spoke when we first knocked on the door and announced the search. And then at the end of the day when I told him we were leaving and that we were not taking anything with us.”
“Did you wake him up when you came at six in the morning?”
“Yes, we did.”
“Was he alone in the house?”
“Yes.”
“Did he invite you in?”
“Not at first. He objected to the search. I told him —”
“Excuse me, Detective, we might make this easier if we show it. You said there was a videographer with you. Was he running the camera when you knocked at six in the morning?”
“Yes, he was.”
Langwiser then made the appropriate motions to introduce the search video. It was accepted under objection from the defense. A large television was rolled into the courtroom and placed at center in front of the jury box. Bosch was asked to identify the tape. The lights in the courtroom were dimmed and it was played.
The tape began with a focus on Bosch and the others outside the red front door of a house. He identified himself and the address and the case number. He spoke quietly. He then turned and knocked sharply on the door. He announced it was the police and knocked sharply again. They waited. Bosch knocked on the door every fifteen seconds until it was finally opened about two minutes after the first pounding. David Storey looked out through the opening, his hair disheveled, his eyes showing exhaustion.
“What?” he asked.
“We have a search warrant here, Mr. Storey,” Bosch said. “It allows us to conduct a search of these premises.”
“You have to be fucking kidding.”
“No, we’re not, sir. Could you step back and let us in? The sooner we’re in the sooner we’re out.”
“I’m calling my lawyer.”
Storey closed and locked the door. Bosch immediately stepped up and put his face close to the jamb. He called out loudly.
“Mr. Storey, you have ten minutes. If this door is not opened by six-fifteen then we’re going to take it down. We have a court-ordered search warrant and we will execute it.”
He turned back to the camera and made the cut signal across his throat.
The video jumped to another focus on the door. The time readout in the bottom corner now showed it was
6
:
13 A.M.
The door opened and Storey stepped back and signaled the search team in. His hair looked as though it had been combed with his hands. He was wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt. He was in bare feet.
6
:
13 A.M.
The door opened and Storey stepped back and signaled the search team in. His hair looked as though it had been combed with his hands. He was wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt. He was in bare feet.
“Do what you have to do and get out. My lawyer’s coming and he’s going to watch you people. You break one fucking thing in this house and I’m going to sue the shit out of you. This is a David Serrurier house. You so much as put a scratch on one of the walls and it’ll be your jobs. All of you.”
“We’ll be careful, Mr. Storey,” Bosch said as he walked in.
The cameraman was the last to enter the house. Storey looked into the lens as if seeing it for the first time.
“And get that shit off of me.”
He made a motion and the camera angle shot upward to the ceiling. It remained there while the voices of the videographer and Storey continued off camera.
“Hey! Don’t touch the camera!”
“Then get it out of my face!”
“Okay. Fine. Just don’t touch the camera.”
The screen went blank and the lights of the courtroom came back up. Langwiser continued the questioning.
“Detective Bosch, did you or members of the search team have further . . . conversation with Mr. Storey after that?”
“Not during the search. Once his lawyer got there Mr. Storey stayed in his office. When we searched his office he moved into the bedroom. When he was leaving for his appointment I questioned him briefly about that and he left. That was about it as far as it went during the search and while we were inside the house.”
“What about at the end of the day — seven hours later — when the search was completed, did you speak to the defendant again?”
“Yes, I spoke to him briefly at the front door. We were packed up and ready to leave. The lawyer had left. I was in my car with my partners. We were backing out when I realized I had forgotten about giving Mr. Storey a copy of the search warrant. It’s required by law. So I went back to his door and knocked on it.”
“Did Mr. Storey answer the door himself?”
“Yes, he answered after about four hard knocks. I gave him the receipt and told him it was required.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
Fowkkes stood up and objected for the record but the issue had already been disposed of in pretrial motions and rulings. The judge noted the objection for the record and overruled it for the record. Langwiser asked the question again.
“Can I refer to my notes?”
“Please.”
Bosch turned to the notes he had taken in the car right after the conversation.
“First, he said, ‘You didn’t find a goddamn thing, did you?’ And I told him he was right, that we weren’t taking anything with us. He then said, ‘Because there was nothing to take.’ I nodded and was turning to leave when he spoke again. He said, ‘Hey, Bosch.’ I turned back and he leaned toward me and said, ‘You’ll never find what you are looking for.’ I said, ‘Oh really, what is it that I am looking for?’ He didn’t respond. He just looked at me and smiled.”
After a pause, Langwiser asked, “Was that the end of it?”
“No. I sensed at that point that I might be able to bait him into saying more. I said to him, ‘You did it, didn’t you?’ He continued to smile and then he slowly nodded. And he said, ‘And I’ll get away with it.’ He said, ‘I’m a — ’”
“Bullshit! You’re a fucking liar!”
It was Storey. He had stood up and was pointing at Bosch. Fowkkes had his hand on him and was trying to pull him back into his place. A deputy sheriff, who had been positioned at a desk to the rear of the defense table was up and moving toward Storey from behind.
“The defendant will sit DOWN!” the judge boomed from the bench at the same moment he brought the gavel down.
“He’s fucking lying!”
“Deputy, sit him down!”
The deputy moved in, put both hands on Storey’s shoulders from behind and roughly pulled him back down into his seat. The judge pointed another deputy toward the jury.
“Remove the jury.”
While the jurors were quickly hustled into the deliberation room, Storey continued to struggle with the deputy and Fowkkes. As soon as the jurors were gone he seemed to relax his efforts and then calmed. Bosch looked over at the reporters, trying to see if any of them had noted how Storey’s demonstration ended as soon as the jurors were out of sight.
“Mr. Storey!” the judge yelled from a standing position. “That behavior and language is not acceptable in this courtroom. Mr. Fowkkes, if you can’t control your client, my people will. One more outburst and I will have him gagged and chained to that chair. Am I clear on this?”
“Absolutely, Your Honor. I apolo —”
“That is a zero tolerance rule. Any outburst from here on out and he’ll be shackled. I don’t care who he is or who his friends are.”
“Yes, Your Honor. We understand.”
“I am taking five minutes and then we’ll start again.” The judge abruptly left the bench, his feet resounding loudly as he quickly took the three steps down. He disappeared through a door to the rear hallway that led to his chambers.
Bosch looked over at Langwiser and her eyes betrayed her delight at what had just happened. To Bosch it was a trade-off. On one hand the jurors saw the defendant acting angry and out of control — possibly exhibiting the same rage that had led to murder. But on the other hand, he was registering his objection to what was happening to him in the courtroom. And that could register an empathic response from the jurors. Storey had to reach only one of them in order to walk.
Before the trial Langwiser had predicted that they would draw Storey into an outburst. Bosch had thought she was wrong. He thought Storey was too cool and calculating. Unless, of course, the outburst was a calculated move. Storey was a man who directed dramatic scenes and characters for a living. Bosch knew he should have seen that a time might come when he would be unwittingly used as a supporting actor in one of those scenes.
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