Legal Thriller: Michael Gresham: Secrets Girls Keep: A Courtroom Drama (Michael Gresham Legal Thriller Series Book 2) (16 page)

H
ector Rodriguez is
the groundskeeper who found Amy's body the morning after the football game.

The State's Attorney calls Mr. Rodriguez as his second trial witness when we take up after lunch. Mr. Rodriguez is a short, dark Mexican national who was working at a job that normally had no involvement with police authorities. But this time around it did. Big time.

He testifies that he went beneath the stands with a wheeled trash barrel just after eight o'clock that morning. He was alone when he went under; the other three members of his crew were handling the restrooms and parking area and sidelines. As he was walking to the far end of the bleachers to begin, he noticed the body maybe ten feet off to the side of the under-passage. Leaving his trash bin behind, he crept close enough to get a good look. He couldn't tell whether the girl was asleep, unconscious, or dead. But he had seen enough TV to know he shouldn't disturb or try to move the person. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, found he had no bars underneath the bleachers, and hurried back out to the open side where he dialed 911. In under ten minutes a police cruiser came roaring into the parking area, nosed up to the chain link fence and parked. The driver and his partner hit the ground running where Hector directed them.

Hector watched as the police officers checked the body for any signs of life. He watched as they carefully followed their footsteps back out of the high grass under the stands. Then he was told to leave the area, and he never went back. That was the last time he saw the dead girl and the crime scene.

There was no tactic available on cross-examination so I passed on the witness and he was excused by the judge.

Next up was Erin Caulflo, a freshman girl from Amy Tanenbaum's home room at Wendover High. She was a sprite of a girl barely five feet tall, with a developing body and long, black eyelashes and fiery eyes that flashed when she described what happened to her friend that night.

"Tell us where you were sitting," the State's Attorney directed.

"About five girls, Amy included, were in the stands watching the boys straggle in. We had all come in one car and were excited because it was homecoming and there would be a huge dance the next night."

"Why was your game on a Thursday night?"

"The other team had several players whose holy day was Friday. So they arranged their entire schedule around that. All games were on Thursday. We didn't care, except there were lots of absences from class the next day because lots of kids slept in."

"You were on the home team's side?"

"Of course. About two-thirds of the way up in the bleachers. There were people all around, young and old, and lots of other students. But we were a clique and we kept to ourselves."

"Describe Amy that night."

"What do you mean? How she was acting?"

"Yes. Whatever you can remember."

"She was in a great mood. She was showing off her bat mitzvah outfit that she was wearing. And it was cute and really showed off her figure."

"Was she upbeat?"

"Yes. We listened to some hip-hop on her iPhone. We shared ear buds."

"Did you eventually pair off with boys?"

"More or less. Boys came and sat with us. But no one was really dating or anything. We were mostly freshmen and sophomores and everyone had known everyone else since like grade school. Except for Jana Emerich. He was from California and so he was kind of mysterious. I know Amy liked him lots and talked about him sometimes."

"Did she ever date him?"

"Like
date
date? Not that I know."

"What did you see happen between her and Jana that night?"

"They just watched the game and talked like all the rest of us. There was lots of talking. A popcorn fight broke out just before halftime. Five minutes before halftime all the girls left for the restrooms. We always left early to beat the crowds. Amy came too, naturally."

"What happened next?"

"Next? We peed. I mean we all went in the bathroom and used the facility then washed. Except some girls wouldn't wash. They didn't want to touch anything. No one did."

"Did Mr. Emerich accompany your group to the restrooms?"

"Not that I know of. Later on I heard he trailed behind us, but I never saw him."

"What happened after the restroom?"

"Our team scored a touchdown and the crowd began stamping their feet in the bleachers and clapping and whistling. So we came running out of the bathroom to see what the uproar was all about."

"Was Amy with you then?"

"I don't know. I don't have a memory of who was there."

"Then what did you do?"

"Walked back over to the snack shop. I bought an Almond Joy and a Mountain Dew. My girlfriends bought their drinks and food and we all went back up the steps."

"Back up the bleachers?"

"Yes."

"Who did you see at the snack shop?"

"I don't remember."

"Who went back up the bleachers?"

"Everyone except Amy."

"Did you think there was anything wrong at that time?"

"No, in fact we laughed. We laughed because we thought she'd snuck off somewhere with Jana Emerich. We knew she would if he asked her to go somewhere to talk."

"Did you see Amy again that night?"

"I never saw Amy again, period."

Tears start rolling down the schoolgirl's cheeks and she wipes at them with a tissue from the box on the witness stand shelf. She dabs carefully around her eyes as if to preserve her eye shadow.

"Have you talked to your friends about that night, Erin?"

"Lots of times."

"Did anyone else see Amy after the restroom?"

"Objection. Calls for hearsay."

"Sustained. Counsel, ask it another way."

"All right, Your Honor. Erin, did you ever become aware of any person who saw Amy after the restroom stop that night?"

"No. No one saw her again."

"Did you ever discuss that night with the defendant, Jana Emerich?"

"No, why would I? They arrested him right away. Everyone's parents called the school board about getting him kicked out of school, but they wouldn't. So we were ordered to stay away from him no matter what."

"Have I failed to ask you anything that might better help us understand what happened to Amy that night?"

"Objection. Vague and ambiguous."

"Overruled. You may answer."

"You've asked me everything. I really don't know anything else."

The witness is turned over to me for cross-examination.

E
rin Caulflo eyes
me suspiciously as I step up to the lectern for her cross-examination. Her long black eyelashes flutter and her eyes dart from the State's Attorney to the jury and back to me. She grips the rail of the witness box shelf in front of her as if to lean against a coming storm.

I am anything but stormy.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Caulflo. May I call you Erin?"

"Sure, Erin is fine."

"I am Jana Emerich's lawyer. Jana has pleaded not guilty in this case. He says he had nothing to do with Amy's death. Do you understand this?"

"I understand. I may not agree, but I understand."

"Why do you say you may not agree?"

I know better than to ask a witness an open-ended question on cross-examination, but I do. I do because her direct examination hasn't yielded anything damning and so I'm going to take this opportunity to shoot down any theories she may have. This will impress on the jury yet another way of thinking of Jana's innocence.

"I don't agree because he was with her. I saw how he was looking at her."

"How was that?"

"Not normal. He looked like he wanted to jump her bones right there in the bleachers."

"Jump her bones?"

"You know. Make out with her."

"But you're not saying he looked like he wanted to murder her?"

She looks helplessly at the State's Attorney and it becomes clear that she is here to help her friend Amy.

"I don't know how someone looks when they want to murder someone. So I don't know if he was looking like he wanted to murder her or not."

So. That makes her feel safe. Here we go.

"Well, let's talk about his look. Did he appear angry?"

"No."

"Was he frowning?"

"No."

"Did he look threatening?"

"No."

"Was he raising his voice to Amy?"

"No."

"In all truth, he looked like he was enjoying being with Amy, didn't he?"

"I guess so. I didn't watch them all that much."

"But you did see enough to be able to tell us today that Jana looked like he was enjoying being with Amy, correct?"

"Yes."

"And while we're at, let's talk about Amy's look. Was she frightened?"

"No."

"Did she raise her voice?"

"No."

"Did she cry out for help?"

"No."

"On the way to the restroom, did she come to you and complain about Jana?"

"I didn't see her all the way to the restroom. I don't know where she went so I can't answer you."

"But for what you did see of her on the walk over, you didn't see her trying to get away from Jana?"

"No."

"And you didn't hear her complain about Jana?"

"Not to me."

"To anyone? Did she complain to anyone?"

"Not that I heard."

"After leaving the bleachers and heading for the restroom, did you see Amy and Jana together again?"

"No."

"Did you see Amy again after leaving the bleachers?"

"No."

"Did you see Jana?"

"No. Somebody told me Amy stopped at the snack shop to give Scott his ring back."

"Who is Scott?"

"Her old boyfriend. They were an item since eighth grade."

"Why give him his ring back--if you know?"

"She broke up with him that week and he wanted the ring back. It was his class ring."

"So she left your restroom procession and stopped by the snack shop?"

"That's what someone told me."

"Objection. Hearsay."

"Exception to the hearsay rule: doesn't seek to prove the truth of the matter asserted but only that it was said."

"Overruled. Please continue."

"Now, Erin, how long did you know Amy Tanenbaum?"

"Since first grade."

"Were you classmates that entire time?"

"Yes. Except we had different classes in high school. She wanted to be a doctor and I didn't."

"So your curricula didn't match up?"

"That's true."

"Did you spend time at each other's houses in high school?"

"At least one night a week."

"So you were good friends?"

"Best friends."

"So you want whoever killed your friend to be convicted and brought to justice, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Is there any other reason that you can think of that Jana Emerich might have been Amy's murderer?"

"No."

"And you were with her all of that night?"

"Yes."

"Rode with her in the same car to the game?"

"Yes."

"Sat with her the entire first half?"

“Yes.”

"Observed her and she appeared fine?"

"Yes."

"Observed Jana and he appeared normal?"

"Yes."

"So you witnessed nothing that might suggest Jana was her killer?"

"Well, not exactly."

"Then what?"

"Nothing, I guess."

She is crying now, her shoulders shaking, and I step away from the lectern, back toward my table.

"Your Honor, that is all I have."

There is no re-direct examination. We are through with this witness.

She flees the witness stand, leaning against an adult who must be her mother, wiping her eyes with a tissue as she walks up the aisle to the door.

My confidence is building. I am beginning to see some light.

But we haven't gotten to the tough witnesses yet. The medical/technical witnesses. They will be hardened veterans and will out-dance me if they can because they know all the steps.

But so do I.

I
t is late
in the day when the first CSI is called to the witness stand. This is the first of the technical witnesses. Crime scene techs are professionals, usually with a degree in biology or other applied science. They have been trained in their specialty, certainly, but also exhaustively trained at the police academy in witness methods and testimony formulation and withstanding cross-examination. They are professional testifiers; they make and keep eye contact with the jury, keep a patina of serious on their testimony, and they can bury your client and look pleasant and innocent the whole time they are doing it.

She is a black woman, average height, wearing her hair close-cropped like Halle Berry and dressed in the uniform of the Chicago Police Department Crime Scene Investigation unit. Taking the witness stand with grace and ease, she is the picture of confident competence.

"Your name?" asks State's Attorney Dickinson.

"Angie McClelland."

"Occupation?"

"Crime scene investigator two, Chicago Police Department."

"How long have you worked for CSI?"

"Thirteen years and six months."

"Ms. McClellan, please tell us about your education. Do you hold any college degrees?"

She smiles and looks directly at the jury, the key eye contact in play.

"Bachelor's degree in biology, Loyola University. Master's degree in forensic science, National University."

"Finally, please tell us about your departmental training in crime scene investigation."

She goes on and on for several minutes, detailing this and that experience beginning with the Chicago CSI Academy and weekend courses and conferences around the country. She has also published ten different papers on the DNA practices of police departments around the world, including Scotland Yard, Interpol, the LAPD, and CPD. She is well-versed, well-trained, and to hear her speak and exude her knowledge I know she will be an implacable witness. A tough cookie.

"Were you involved in the investigation at the Amy Tanenbaum crime scene?"

"I was. I headed up the CSI team that day."

"Please tell us what you did."

"My primary responsibility is, one, to secure and preserve the scene, and, two, to task different team members with their roles at the scene."

"What does that last part mean, tasking team members?"

"That's just departmental-speak for assigning different jobs to each CSI at the scene. Some did fluids, some did hair and fiber, some did trace and transfer, including fingerprints and hand prints, some did DNA. Of course, the same worker might do two or even three of these things. My third job was to make sure each contact with the scene by our team members met departmental and professional standards."

"Do you recall particulars about the Amy Tanenbaum scene?"

"Of course. And I also have my case notes."

So do I. Through the discovery process, all CSI notes and workups and reports have been made available to the defense team. I am well-versed in what she did, who she spoke to, and conclusions that devolved from her investigation. Ms. McClelland spends the next forty-five minutes describing what she heard, saw, and discovered about the death scene.

During her testimony she describes finding the red muffler and the DNA testing. Jana's DNA, is, of course, found on the muffler. So is the DNA of other individuals unmatched as they haven't been sampled and don't exist in any database. But Jana was last seen wearing the muffler, so its presence at the murder scene rests with him. Jana loses this point.

She also talks about the lack of fingerprints. They have examined her entire body for a latent print from someone other than Amy herself and have found nothing. Jana wins this point.

The entire body depression left in the tall grass was vacuumed and the vacuum's contents studied under a microscope. This has yielded human and animal hairs that cannot be matched to Jana's sample, thank God. Jana wins this point.

There is no method of death found, as Ms. McClelland puts it. Meaning no wire or garrote was found that might have been used to strangle and sever the carotids of Amy Tanenbaum. This point is a neutral, although the search warrant that later turned up a missing E string from the package in his guitar case could be said to make this a point for Jana. I'll give it a half-point, his favor.

Then come the endless photographs of the scene and the body. There are over fifty in all, and they are identified by Ms. McClelland and introduced into evidence one-by-one, at which moment they are passed to the jury. The rest of the afternoon is gobbled up by this process and by the time we quit, at five-fifteen, we are all dizzy with horrendous images of death. A smart move by the prosecution to send the jury home for the night with horror dancing in their brains. And there's nothing I can do to sap away the sting. It's a
fait accompli
when we all pack up.

Detective Ngo spots me and approaches my table. The courtroom is empty but for the two of us. His black face is twisted in rage and the whites of his eyes are red-veined with anger.

"How can you defend this man?" he hisses. "He killed an innocent child!"

Where is this coming from? I wonder, directed at me?

He pulls his hand to the rear of his waist, purposely displaying the gun on his belt.

"It's my job," I say. "It's nothing more than that. I don't vouch for these people, don't know all that much about them. But the U.S. Constitution says they're entitled to a lawyer. I'm just providing that service.

"I was at Amy Tanenbaum's autopsy. I watched the mouse being pulled out of her mouth. It was covered in black blood. Amy's blood. They couldn't open her casket because of the terrible damage done to her face by the autopsy and by that goddam rodent your client put in there."

He moves around my table and sits down on the end of it, the end nearest me. If I reached out I could touch his side. He glares down at me.

"You and I are going to meet someplace again. I guarantee it. It may not be tonight or tomorrow, it may not be until next month or next year. But we will meet again. And you will be alone and so will I. You are going to feel pain, friend. You are going to feel serious big-boy pain. I'm not going to kill you. But I am going to fuck you up."

He stands and remains close.

"Remember this when you see me again. Remember that I told you so."

"I will."

I make the elevator minutes later and hammer the down button, praying that it closes before Ngo comes onboard. The door whooshes closed and I ride down to the lobby, alone. I am shaken and shaking when I step out of the elevator. I look behind me, half-expecting him to be there. But he is not.

Then I am outside and Marcel is waiting with my car.

We are gone.