The Price of Justice (15 page)

Dani stood up and walked over to him. “You stated that no footprints were found belonging to Mr. Sanders. Tell me, did you find any footprints belonging to Mr. Melton?”

“No, well, you see, there were so many prints on the ground, it was impossible to specifically identify any one set.”

“So, it’s possible that Sanders was there even though you didn’t find any footprints belonging to him, right?”

“Well, I can’t rule that out.”

“And since no semen was found in the victim, isn’t it possible that Mr. Sanders is the one who came prepared with a condom?”

“I suppose so.”

“Now, you said that only one strand of hair was found by the body, and it belonged to Mr. Melton, right?”

“Yes.”

“What if I told you that Mr. Sanders claimed he always wore a hairnet when he raped and murdered a woman? In that case, you wouldn’t expect to find any of his hairs, would you?”

“It’s possible even with a hairnet that something could fall out if the victim pulled at it.”

“But it’s also possible that there would be nothing, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s a possibility, I suppose.”

“Thank you. No further questions.”

As Dani sat down, Judge Hinchey declared it was a good time to end for the day. After the jury was led from the courtroom, a guard took Win back to a courthouse jail cell. The day had gone as she expected. Whiting made his points, but she’d managed to chip away at them. Dani gathered up her files and turned to leave the courtroom. Still seated in the first row of the spectators were Win’s parents. Donald Melton was squeezing his wife’s hand in a grip that looked to Dani as though it could break the bones in her delicate hands. The look on Lucy’s face was one of relief, but Donald’s face was ashen, his eyes downcast, as though it had been unbearable to watch the trial unfold.

Dani stopped next to them and placed her hand on Donald’s. “Soon,” she said. “Soon everyone will know that Win is innocent.”

Donald looked up at her with tears in his eyes. “Th-thank you.” He said no more but rose, along with Lucy, and followed Dani and her team out of the courtroom. When they exited the building, Donald pointed out Carly’s parents, standing on the courthouse steps.

Dani walked over to the Sobols. “I’m so sorry for your loss, and for having to go through a trial a second time. But I truly believe Winston is innocent.”

Chip Sobol glared at her. “You’d better be right. Because it’s torture for us to endure this again. We turn on the news, and all we see are pictures of our little girl and commentators talking endlessly about her murder.” He turned and looked at his wife, whose face was set in an impassive mask, and put his arm around her shoulder. “This is tearing us apart.”

“I understand. But I promise you. After you hear Earl Sanders’s confession, you’ll know that Win is innocent.”

“We’ll see. We’re going to be here every day, and we’ll make up our own minds, no matter what the jury decides.”

C
HAPTER

26

T
he next morning, they were back in court, ready to continue the trial. Whiting called Greg Kincaid to the stand. Once he was sworn in and the preliminary questions were out of the way, Whiting said, “Tell me about the last time you saw Carly Sobol.”

This was the first time Dani had seen Kincaid. He was smaller than Win, plainer looking. His shoulders drooped, and he sat hunched over in the witness chair.

“It was the night she was murdered,” Kincaid answered. “She was my date to a dance at the high school.”

“Had you been dating long?”

“A few months.”

“Were you aware that she’d previously dated the defendant?”

“Sure. Everyone knew that.”

“Did you see the defendant at the dance that night?”

Kincaid squirmed in his seat, looking as though he couldn’t find a comfortable spot in the chair. “Yeah. I saw him. Standing by the door. Carly saw him, too.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw her staring at him.”

“Did either of you speak to him?”

Kincaid shook his head, then answered, “I didn’t. I went to get us some drinks, and when I got back, Carly was gone.”

“Did you look for her?”

“I didn’t have to. I knew she left with Win.”

Whiting walked back to his table and picked up a photograph, then brought it over to the witness. “This is a picture of Earl Sanders. Did you see anyone looking like him on the night in question?”

“No.”

“Thank you. I have no further questions.”

Dani stood up and walked over to him. “Did you actually see Carly leave with Winston?”

“No.”

“Did you see either Carly or Winston after that?”

“No.”

“So even if they’d left together, you have no idea how long they were together, do you?”

“Long enough for him to kill her.”

Dani immediately turned to the judge and said, “Strike that. It calls for a conclusion.”

The judge looked over at the jury. “That answer is stricken from the record. You should give it no weight in your deliberations.”

“I’ll ask you again. Do you have any direct knowledge as to how long they were together?”

“No.”

“So, it’s possible that they spoke briefly and then Winston left her, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“That’s the point. You don’t know. No further questions.”

The remainder of the day was filled with other students who had seen Win at the high school, including a few who’d seen him leave with Carly. Dani questioned them lightly, since she didn’t plan to deny Win was there, or that he’d walked into the forested area with his former girlfriend. She did ask each witness if they’d seen Win return to the gym. All said they hadn’t.

At the end of the day, the prosecution rested its case. Two days for a capital-punishment case. Their evidence was so sparse, it had only taken them two days to ask the jury to send a young man to his death. Dani shook her head in disgust.

Dani began the next morning with the videotape of Earl Sanders’s deposition. Before she played it, Whiting asked to approach the bench. The judge nodded, and he and Dani walked up to him. “Your Honor, I renew my objection to playing this tape. It’s—”

“Save your breath. I’m not changing my ruling.”

“Then, at the least, his confession to the other murders shouldn’t be shown. They bear no relation to the case at hand.”

“Do you plan on challenging his confession to the murder of Ms. Sobol?” Dani asked.

“Of course I do.”

“Then it’s highly relevant, Your Honor. It goes to Sanders’s credibility. If those confessions are verified, then it tends to show he’s telling the truth about this murder.”

“I agree,” Hinchey said, then looked at Whiting. “Seems like you’re in a pickle. Either don’t challenge his confession—in which case this trial is over. I’ll rule from the bench that he’s not guilty—or accept that the whole videotape comes in.”

Whiting glowered at the judge. “I guess you leave me no choice.”

They stepped back from the bench, and Dani informed the jury that they were going to see the videotape of someone who was now deceased.

Every juror’s eyes were focused intently on the television, watching this man whose shifty eyes and gnarled hands seemed to shout, “Guilty.” They listened raptly as he described stalking Carly for several days, watching her house, watching as she drove to school. He described her house, her car.

“Then, after a couple of days, I saw this skinny guy pick her up at her house. She was all dressed up in some fancy dress, her tits practically hanging out of it. She looked real pretty. They drove to a high school. I hung out behind the school, a spot where I could see his car, know when she was leaving. But she didn’t leave with him. Came out of the school with this other guy, bigger, broader than the guy who took her there. They walked past the parking lot, back to some trees, then I didn’t see ’em no more. ’Bout five minutes later, the guy came out alone. He walked over to a car and waited there. I knew this was my time. I always know when it’s my time.” He stopped, then laughed. “I guess I was wrong with the last one. That’s why I’m here.”

He was prompted to continue. “I slipped a hairnet over my head, then walked into the trees. After fifty yards or so, I saw her leaning against one, crying. She didn’t hear me walk up behind her. First thing I did, I grabbed her hands and tied them with a ribbon, real fast, so she couldn’t scratch me. I usually use rope, but she had a ribbon in her hair—a purple one—and I just grabbed it real quick. Then, I put my hand around her neck and started squeezing, forcing her to the ground. After I got on top of her, I loosened my hand a little. I like to hear them beg, and she sure did.”

“Then what?”

“Well, what I always do. I choked her ’til she stopped her babbling. Sometimes that kills them. Sometimes it just knocks them out. But it always shuts them up. Then I did her. I used a condom, can’t leave DNA behind. When I finished, I checked her breathing. Deader than a doornail. If she weren’t, I’d have slit her throat. I never left witnesses.”

Dani paused the tape for a moment and let that testimony sink in. There was total silence in the courtroom.

When the tape continued, Dani was heard asking, “Did the young woman have any identifying marks on her?”

“A purple-and-turquoise butterfly, on her right hip. I saw it when I pulled her panties down.”

“Is there anything else you remember about that night?”

“Well, there was a carving on the tree we were under. A heart, with initials inside it. ‘ES + PG.’ I remember ’cause ‘ES’ were my initials, and I thought what I was doing certainly wasn’t a PG rating. Tree had no leaves on it, but it was real high, with a big trunk.”

Dani stopped the tape. “Your Honor, I’d like to pause the tape at this point and call a witness.”

Hinchey nodded, and Dani called Detective Pete Harmon to the stand. He had already testified for the prosecution as the lead detective investigating the murder of Carly Sobol. Dani hadn’t cross-examined him then, but she’d reserved the right to call him later. Since he’d been on Dani’s witness list, he’d been outside the courtroom during the playing of the videotape. Once he was settled in his seat, Dani said, “You previously testified that Ms. Sobol’s body was found under a large oak tree in the forested area behind Palm Beach High School, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Was there anything distinctive about that tree?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Any markings?”

“Not that I recall.”

Dani went back to her table and picked up several sheets of paper. She handed one to Whiting, one to the judge, and the last to the witness. “Would you take a look at this, and see if it refreshes your memory?”

Harmon scanned the page. “Yes.” He placed the paper down on his lap.

“First, tell the jury what you’re looking at.”

“It’s my official report describing the site of the murder.”

“Please read what it says.”

“Victim was found at the base of a large oak tree approximately sixty yards from the beginning of the treed area in the rear of Palm Beach High School. Carved into the tree is a heart with initials inside of ‘ES + PG.’”

“And is that an accurate report of what you saw?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, when you found the victim, were her hands bound in any way?”

“Yes. They were bound with a ribbon.”

“And the color of the ribbon?”

The detective glanced down at his notes, then looked up. “Purple.”

“Just one more question. Was that information released to the press or the public?”

Harmon brought his hand up to his chin and squeezed it, while shaking his head. “No, we always like to hold something back from the public, you know, to ferret out the crazies who confess to everything. We kept quiet about the ribbon. And the initials on the tree? Well, that wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t announced either.”

“Finally, detective, did Ms. Sobol have any tattoos on her body?”

Once again, he looked down at his report. “She did. A purple-and-turquoise butterfly on her right hip.”

“Thank you.”

“Redirect, counselor?”

“Yes,” Whiting answered, then walked over to Harmon.

“If the defendant had tied Carly Sobol’s hands with a purple ribbon, he could have told anyone about it, including Earl Sanders, right?”

“Don’t see why not.”

“And he could have told anyone about the tattoo and the initials on the tree, as well, right?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you. You can step down now.”

Dani returned to the jury box and stood beside them as she played the rest of the videotape. One by one, Sanders described his victims. All were young women between sixteen and twenty-five. All had been stalked by him. All had been raped and murdered. And all the murders had been unsolved until he’d confessed. When the video was finished, Dani noted that one juror wiped away tears from her eyes.

“Your Honor, can we break for lunch now? My next witnesses are coming from out of town, and I’d asked them to arrive for the afternoon session.” Dani could have had them arrive in the morning. Amelia’s money was paying for their expenses, which could easily have included a motel the night before. But she wanted to leave the jury with the memory of the tape, of Earl Sanders confessing to the brutal murders of ten innocent women, one of them Carly Sobol.

Letitia Sanders sat rigidly in front of the television screen, barely moving a muscle in her thin body. Earl had told her, of course. He’d told her about the others. Not the details, though. Just the fact of it. Her son. A serial killer. Now Court TV showed every bit of Winston Melton’s trial, all day long. She hadn’t changed the channel for three days, just waiting for Earl’s story to come out, knowing it would, that everyone would know her son was a monster. It was almost too much to wrap her head around. She lit up another cigarette, the ashtray already filled with a dozen butts. The small space reeked of stale cigarettes, but so what. No one else around to be bothered by it.

She’d quit blaming herself after they killed him, shot him up with that drug that stopped his heart. Now she blamed the government, the prison, his schools—everyone who should have known he had a problem and done something to help him. She supposed people thought he deserved to die. And once, she would have thought that way, too. An eye for an eye, and all that crap. But he’d been born innocent, and he had stayed good until his daddy left. It turned him dark, made him into something he needed help for.

She’d tried to explain that to Josie, her best friend. But Josie said for someone who did what he did, the blackness had to have always been in him. “Probably came from his daddy,” she’d said, trying to console Letitia, to let her know it wasn’t her fault. Josie was a good woman, but Letitia knew others wouldn’t see it the same way. People in the trailer park, in the town, hell, all over the country, were watching her boy confess to killing all those girls, and they’d say it was his mommy’s fault. Well, let them say that, she thought. I’ll be gone from here soon enough. And then it won’t matter to me what they think.