The Insanity Plea (26 page)

When the panel was in place, the
clerk called out the jurors by number, twelve regular jurors and two
alternates. Some jurors smiled as they were selected; more frowned about having
to take two weeks away from their families and work. Still, they had no choice
and, reluctantly or not, accepted the responsibility. Dan’s life literally
rested in their hands.

After they were seated, Judge
Fernandez swore them in and gave them standard instructions, paying particular
attention to the fact that there were reporters in the courtroom and media
trucks in the street. He stressed the importance of deciding the case only from
evidence in the courtroom and specifically instructed them to ignore any media
account of the trial. When each promised to follow his instructions, he
announced that opening statements would start the next morning.

Rita was worried about Wayne. They
had returned to the house after trial. The men each had a scotch on the rocks
while the women had bottled water. While Sarah fixed dinner, they discussed the
likely order of the prosecution’s case. Duke figured that the proof of the crime
and the connection with Dan would take a couple of days, maybe three. Duke and
Wayne assured the others that they were as prepared as they could be. They even
expected to knock a few holes in the prosecution’s primary case.

An hour after dinner Rita noticed
that Wayne was nowhere to be found. She searched every room in the house and
the veranda. No one had seen him or knew his whereabouts. Then, she remembered
the widow’s walk and went to the third floor where she found the narrow
stairway to the roof. When she opened the door, it took a moment for her eyes
to become accustomed to the dark and she found Wayne. He was sitting on the
roof facing the Gulf, leaning against the rail with his legs pulled up to his
chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. He appeared not to notice as she
approached.

“Wayne,” Rita said softly. “Wayne,
are you all right?”

Wayne stirred and looked around at
Rita. “Sorry, babe, I must have been somewhere else. Look, see that freighter
going by? And out in the distance you can see the lights of oil rigs. They work
out there twenty-four/seven.” Then he pointed far out on the horizon. “If your
eyes are good, you can just make out the lights of a cruise ship, heading out
to the Caribbean. I could see it clearly when I first got up here.”

Rita dropped down in front of him and
put her back to his legs. “What’s going on, sweetie?”

“Oh, I’m okay,” Wayne said as he
moved his legs and drew her back to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m
ready for tomorrow and the rest of the trial for that matter. It’s just that,
sometimes, I get overwhelmed by what we’re doing. This is my first trial as a
criminal defense lawyer, which wouldn’t be all that bad since it’s not as if I
haven’t tried a bunch of cases, even prosecuted criminals. Only this one is
about capital murder, and it’s my brother. I keep my feelings to myself, but
I’m actually petrified about losing. If Dan ends up on death row, I’ll lose him
and my mother, too. I’ve been watching her and she’s aging by the day.”

Rita quietly searched her mind for
something to say. She understood how Wayne felt. She and Claudia had discussed
some of the same feelings, and it wasn’t even one of their families with a life
on the line. Then she remembered advice from her youth. “When I was thirteen, I
had a test that would determine whether I would lead the honor roll for the
year or not. I studied, practically memorized the book. My dad found me sitting
on the steps of our double-wide, staring off into the night. He convinced me
that I had done all that I could do and worrying would not change a thing. He
was right of course. I still worried; only I slept better that night.

“That’s really all anyone can do. We’re
prepared. You’ve assembled as good a team as any in the country. If the case
can be won, you and Duke will do it. We’re all going to worry every day, for
sure a whole lot more than your other trials. Just like my test, we can’t
guarantee the result. If it’s any consolation, my woman’s intuition tells me
that we’re going to do just fine.”

Wayne pulled Rita into his arms. After
they kissed, he asked, “How’d you do on that test?”

“Aced it,” Rita said. “Made a hundred
and topped the honor roll.”

Kate came out of her corner like a
raging bull. When the judge announced opening statements, she leaped up, walked
to the front of the jury box and planted both feet.

“The evidence will show that this was
a brutal murder! A savage murder! A young nurse, a servant to the maimed and
critically ill in our community, was horribly struck down. Her throat was cut
and she was tossed like yesterday’s garbage to the rocks below the seawall. You’ll
see pictures of her body, lying twisted in a pool of blood in the sand.

“Fortunately, our fine police
officers did their job. They caught the killer in less than twenty-four hours. It’s
this man right here.” Kate turned and pointed her finger at Dan, who for the
first time in several days met her eyes with his own. “As so often happens, the
killer returned to the scene of the crime. When the police saw him, did he go
up to them and offer his assistance? No! He took off running down the beach and
had to be tackled by a young officer.”

Now she was pacing in front of the
jury. “And you won’t believe this. They found the victim’s diamond bracelet in
his pocket, and DNA testing identified her blood on his sneakers.”

Several of the jurors were nodding
with her, obviously in agreement that the evidence was strong.

“And if that isn’t enough, when the
police took him in, he confessed. Confessed!

“Now I’m sure you’re asking
yourselves what are we doing here? It’s open and shut. It should have been. Only
his brother got involved and pled that he was insane, that he didn’t know what
he did was wrong.” She looked at the defense table and continued. “To that
plea, we say baloney. In fact it’s so full of baloney that we asked the
foremost forensic psychiatrist in the country, Dr. Frederick Parke, to evaluate
him. He’ll tell you that while he definitely suffered from a mental illness he
still knew what he was doing was wrong.

“In summary, the evidence will show
that Daniel Little killed Debbie and he deserves the ultimate punishment.”

Kate returned to her table and was
greeted by the outstretched hand of Harry Klein. At the other table, Duke handed
a note to Dan who read it, nodded and passed it to Wayne. It read,
She’s over the top. Two women were shaking
their heads. Keep it low-key.

Wayne slowly rose to his feet,
buttoned his coat and walked around the table to the center of the courtroom
where he faced the jury, hands behind his back.

“I rise in defense of my brother, in
defense of my brother’s life. You see, even though the evidence will show that
Dan graduated first in his class at the University of Texas Law School and was
on the path to a career as a brilliant trial lawyer, fate dealt him a cruel
hand. In his twenties, he came down with paranoid schizophrenia. A life that
had been so promising crashed before him, his wife, his mother and me. He
fought the illness and, like so many others, he lost. He became a street
person, eating out of garbage cans, sleeping in a cardboard box. I must admit
that I failed him. I tried for years to keep him in treatment and I gave up.” Wayne
wiped a tear from his eye. “I abandoned my own brother.”

Duke was watching the jury carefully
and saw two older women also putting tissues to their eyes. He was pleased to
see that Wayne was taking a small step to shift some sympathy to their side.

“You’ll hear more about his life
through our mother and psychiatrists.”

That comment caught Duke’s attention.
Apparently, Wayne had decided to put his mother on the stand. First he had
heard of the decision, but he didn’t disagree.

 
“Now, I must turn to the evidence. Dan didn’t
know Debbie Robinson. He had no motive to kill her. Other than a couple of
fights with other street people, usually when he was attacked, he was not a
violent man.

“He lived in a world that we cannot
understand. Voices were constantly commanding that he do as they told him. Often,
people were there that only he could see and hear. I know it sounds crazy, and
it is. Dan was crazy. He was psychotic. He had paranoid delusions. All he
really wanted was to be left alone, but no matter where he went, the voices
followed.

“Ms. Rasmussen is correct, that we
have pled that Dan was insane when Debbie Robinson was killed. We admit that he
was at the scene of the crime on that day. By doing so, we don’t admit that he
committed the crime. They have to prove that he was the actual killer beyond a
reasonable doubt. We readily accept the burden of establishing that he was
insane on that day and the day before that, and the day before that. Only now,
since Dr. Adeshek has him on some new, experimental medications, has he been
approaching something close to normal. As far as what he was doing on the
seawall that day and the reasons for his actions, we can explain and we will.

“Last, there’s going to be an expert
debate about Dan’s insanity. Yes, they have Dr. Parke. You’ll find that he’s
the best that money can buy. Keep in your mind this question. Why did the state
choose an expert from Colorado when there are experts equally qualified right
down the street at our own medical school or fifty miles up the freeway in The
Houston Medical Center? I want you to listen to what Parke has to say; more
importantly, I want you to evaluate his personal biases. Then I want you to
compare his opinions to Dr. Adeshek and Dr. Brickman, our two local experts. At
the end of the day, we think the preponderance of the evidence about Dan’s
insanity will come down on our side of the table.”

Wayne returned to his seat. Several
of the jurors focused their attention on Dan and then turned away as the judge
announced a mid-morning break.

Kate’s first witness was Rayburn
Hammond, the elderly gentleman from Fort Worth. Wayne thought it was a smart
move since he was not subject to any impeachment.

Mr. Hammond described his work in
Fort Worth as a teacher for forty years. He and his wife, Becky, had driven
down to Galveston to spend a few days at the beach. They were early risers and
it was their custom to take a brisk walk on the seawall at about sunrise. It
was common to see other walkers and joggers at that early morning hour, along
with fishermen and, sometimes, surfers unloading their gear and putting on wet
suits.
 
Staying at the Galvez, they had
barely started their walk when they were surprised to see a man climbing the
steps from below the seawall. Mr. Hammond called him a bum and then apologized,
saying that was an old term. The man seemed to be upset. When he saw them
staring at him, he turned and hurried off down the street, looking back over
his shoulder as if to make sure that they weren’t following him. He was
muttering to someone, something about knowing the bracelet was not his.

He left a red footprint on the
concrete seawall. They looked over the seawall and saw a body among the rocks. His
wife called 911.

Kate passed the witness. After
conferring with Duke, Wayne concluded there was no reason to attempt to impeach
the old man. He was only a witness who was doing his best to tell the truth.

Wayne rose, looked at the witness and
said, “No questions, Your Honor.”

Mr. Hammond was followed by Officer Kennesaw.
He described how he saw the defendant picking his way over the boulders after
the sun came up the next morning. When he called to the defendant and
identified himself as a police officer, the defendant took off down the beach,
yelling and waving his arms. When the defendant refused to stop, he easily
caught him in about fifty yards.

He was also the young cop who found
the key. Rasmussen wanted to diffuse the issue about the key as much as she
could. As a seasoned trial lawyer, she knew she had to be the first to bring it
up. She got Keneshaw to describe the crime scene and where the tape was; then
he testified that he was really just hanging around while the CSI team worked. He
was standing in the street, outside the crime scene tape when he saw several
items at his feet. He picked up the key and handed it to a crime scene
investigator. He didn’t know if it had anything to do with the crime or not.

On cross-exam, Duke got him to agree
that Dan was too weak to put up much of a fight. The officer further conceded
that the man did not seem to understand who he was and that he seemed to be
talking to some person who wasn’t there.

Next was Detective Jefferies. Jefferies
was an experienced testifier and was normally cool on the stand. This morning
was a little different since he made the key an issue.

“My name is James Ray Jefferies. I’m
a detective with the Galveston Police Department. Been a policeman for
twenty-eight years.”

The prosecutor established his
qualifications and his assignment as the chief investigator on the case, then
wanted to get the attention of the jury with the pictures of the deceased.

“Detective Jefferies, how long after
the 911 call did you arrive at the scene of the murder?”

Jefferies looked at the jury as he
replied, “Couldn’t have been more than ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Two other
officers were there. It was before the crime scene detail arrived.”

“Did you see the body of who we now
know was Debbie Robinson at the scene?”

“Yes, ma’am. It was daylight by
then.”

“I’m handing you what have been
marked as State’s Exhibits one through ten. Can you identify them?”

“Those are photos of Ms. Robinson at
the scene, before anyone touched the body.”

“Offer them, Your Honor.”

“No objection,” Wayne said.

“Your Honor, I’d like to display them
to the jury.”

Kate proceeded to put each of the
pictures on an overhead projector, showing the body with a horrific gash across
the neck, lying like a raggedy doll with eyes wide open.

No one noticed Walter Robinson,
seated on the back row, who barely glanced at the first picture and quietly
left the courtroom. After the third picture, jurors started looking away, looking
down and gazing out the window, having seen enough. Duke whispered to Wayne
that she was again overplaying her hand.

Next she showed pictures of
footprints going up the stairway and on the concrete seawall. Jefferies
identified the substance making the prints as blood. Then, he confirmed that
the DNA results matched that blood as coming from Debbie.

Moving efficiently, as if this were
nothing more than going through the motions to establish the death and
connection to the defendant, Kate walked to the evidence table and pulled out
the left sneaker which Jefferies identified as being worn by the defendant and
pointed out traces of blood still apparent. Jefferies confirmed that the DNA on
the sneaker also matched the victim’s blood.

Then Kate directed him to a bracelet
she retrieved from the evidence table. The detective identified it as one that
was found on an inside pocket of the defendant and read the inscription. Kate
next asked for permission to circulate the bracelet among the jury. She handed
it to the first lady on the front row who studied it carefully, read the
inscription and passed it to the next juror.

While the jurors were looking at the
bracelet, Kate asked how the police identified Debbie as the victim. Jefferies
replied that it did not occur until the next morning. When a nurse named Debbie
Robinson did not show up for work at UTMB for two days, the surgery supervisor called
the police who made the connection.

Kate was nearly through and asked her
last questions. “Detective Jefferies, based on your many years as an officer
and a detective and having supervised the entire investigation, did you
formulate an opinion as to who killed Debbie Robinson?”

“Yes, I did. In my opinion, it was
the defendant here, Dan Little.” He pointed to Dan as he answered.

“Did Dan Little commit the crime to
steal the victim’s diamond bracelet?”

“Yes, ma’am. He had her bracelet in
his pocket when he was caught.”

 
After conferring with Harry Klein, the Assistant
D. A. passed the witness. She and Harry had talked the previous evening about the
issue of the key. Since Rasmussen had already touched on the issue, they
decided to take the heat on cross-examination of Jefferies and get in the last
word about the key on rebuttal.

After lunch it was Wayne’s turn. He
elected to try to get Jefferies relaxed with a couple of softballs. “Detective
Jefferies, this encounter with Dan was not your first, was it?”

“Oh, no, sir,” Jefferies replied.

Wayne approached the witness and
handed him an eight by ten photograph. “Fact is, you and he played football
together at Galveston High School.”

“Objection, Your Honor. Relevance.”

“Ms. Rasmussen, I’ll allow a little
latitude here. Jury needs to know something about the defendant,” Judge
Fernandez ruled. “Proceed, Mr. Little.”

“Yes, sir. We did,” Jefferies
responded.

“Dan was the quarterback that threw
the touchdown pass that won us a state championship. You were the receiver that
caught it and carried it into the end zone.”

Jefferies puffed out his chest a
little and turned to the jury. “Dan threw a perfect pass. I was just fortunate
enough to be on the receiving end.”