Evidence of Murder (27 page)

He continued refuting the charges against John Huggins, explaining carjacking as a specialized form of robbery, that it means the car was taken by force or fear against a person’s will. He said there was no proof of that in this case.

The defense attorney said that the state couldn’t show when any of the events took place or where they took place or how they took place.

Wesley explained that the judge’s instruction would include the area of alibi, “which is a sort of legal term to say a person wasn’t present at the scene of the crime.” He said that John Huggins’s alibi was that he and his family were visiting in Kissimmee. The defense attorney told the jury if they had a reasonable doubt about whether the defendant was present when the crime was committed, it was their duty to find him not guilty.

Wesley turned to the subject of the purse found on December 24, implying that the purse and its contents were deposited in the brush at some point after November 11, the date on the discarded prescription bottle, which was long after Huggins was arrested and incarcerated.

He told the jury that this was a case of circumstantial evidence. And he emphasized that for the jury to find a defendant guilty of first-degree murder, it must show that he is guilty beyond and to the exclusion of every reasonable doubt: “Because you know as jurors you’re bound by your oath to return a verdict based on the evidence.” He stated firmly, “The evidence does not show John Huggins was involved.. . . Suspicions cannot convict a person of first-degree murder. Your verdict should be not guilty.”

He thanked the jury for its attention and patience during the course of the trial and returned to his seat.

As the courtroom quietly waited, Judge Perry declared a ten-minute recess. Leaning forward, he stated to the jury, “I’ll ask you not to discuss this case among yourselves nor with anyone else.”

After the jury left the courtroom, the weary spectators rose to stretch. Some left the room; others milled around, whispering to each other.

Defense attorney Wesley rose and asked Judge Perry, “May I address the court on one matter briefly?”

Judge Perry nodded.

Wesley raised an objection to the state showing the videotape of Huggins’s interview in rebuttal. He said he did not mention the tape in his argument, therefore it could not be used now.

The courtroom was silent as people drew near to hear the oral argument.

Judge Perry looked over at the prosecution table and addressed, “Mr. Ashton?”

Jeff Ashton rose and faced the judge, saying, “Mr. Wesley mentioned alibi. This videotape contains all the statements that were put before the jury as to the defendant’s whereabouts at the time of the crime. That is directly relevant to that claim.” Ashton waited for Judge Perry’s response.

Wesley contended, “The issue is whether Huggins was present when the crime was committed.” He asserted, “We don’t know where the crime was committed. We know it wasn’t at the Days Inn.”

Judge Perry inquired, “Mr. Ashton, is it your intention to show the whole tape?”

Jeff Ashton responded, “Yes, sir, and discuss various aspects of it as they relate to the evidence.”

Bob Wesley disputed the argument. The temperature in the courtroom elevated several degrees as the differences took over the proceedings.

Ashton countered, “I think I’m pretty much permitted—”

“Folks, folks,” Judge Perry interceded. “I’m not going to tolerate that.”

Family members of the victim exchanged looks, whispering comments to each other.

The defendant sat quietly, observing the volley between the two attorneys, his face impassive, as though the proceedings had nothing to do with him.

The discussion continued, both sides putting forth their arguments, hoping for a favorable decision from the judge. The word “alibi” was the catchword, with the defense saying Huggins had an alibi and the prosecution arguing that there wasn’t any alibi.

Bob Wesley at his defense table shifted his massive weight in his chair, displaying his silent objections to the prosecutor’s contentions.

The judge, adjusting his glasses, tipped his head slightly and judiciously cautioned the prosecutor: “As long as it is rebuttal, then you’re fine.”

After the recess, when the court reconvened and the jury was seated, Ashton began his rebuttal. In opening he indicated that the judge would instruct the jury on the law and that they would be provided with typed copies of instructions to take back to the jury room with them.

Ashton then began methodically to refute the points Wesley raised in his closing. He went over each one and recalled testimony that directly contradicted each, including the prescription bottle, which he said distracted from the case since it was found in brush seven to ten feet away from the purse.

Ashton asserted, “That prescription bottle was never tied to anything remotely having anything to do with this case.”

He agreed with Wesley’s cautioning not to speculate, but said, “There is a difference between a speculation and a logical inference.” He gave examples of such difference and then became specific. “It is a logical inference that this lady went to the store and bought some grapes and pita bread. It is a reasonable and logical, almost undeniable, inference that she didn’t end up out in the field of her own free will.”

He turned to face Huggins, then gave his attention back to the jury. “Carla Larson did not voluntarily drive out in the woods with her killer. That,” he emphasized, “is not speculation. That is a reasonable—and, in fact, the only reasonable—inference that you can draw from these facts, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with drawing logical and reasonable inferences from facts that are proven in the record.”

The hard-driving prosecutor said, “There is an essential difference between a logical inference and a speculation.”

He gave an example of speculation. He stopped, panned his eyes across the jury and picked up: “An absolute, complete, total speculation is the claim that Kevin Smith was anywhere near this Publix supermarket on June 10, 1997. There is not one single shred of evidence of that. Nothing.” Ashton detailed Smith’s workday hours on that day when he was one hour away, which were verified. “And you have not heard one single solitary fact that should make you doubt that. For you to believe that he was anywhere near this Publix is an absolute rank and totally improper speculation.”

The prosecutor disputed the conspiracy theory of Angel, Kim, Kevin and Faye ganging up to frame John Huggins. “That’s ludicrous.... That’s speculation upon speculation upon guess upon speculation. That’s not evidence.” He paused to let his words sink in.

Judge Perry sat silently, staring owlishly through his large dark-rimmed glasses, watching the prosecutor unrelentingly destroy the defense that Bob Wesley had conjured up for his client, but he showed no reaction. The long-experienced jurist would in no way display his thoughts.

Ashton continued, stressing that only John Huggins fit the criteria of Carla Larson’s killer. He cited the three factors that were important: that the person had to be in the area where Carla was kidnapped, had to have some connection with the burned vehicle and had to have access to the shed on Faye Blades’s property, where the jewelry was found.

“And John Huggins,” Ashton continued, “has all three. And John Huggins is the only human being on earth that you have heard about in this trial that has that connection.” Shaking his head, he emphasized, “No one else.”

Ashton told how the killer tried to destroy any possible evidence of his involvement in the case, stripping the body, hiding the jewelry, ditching the purse and finally burning the car to a cinder.

The prosecutor continued to gnaw away at the scenarios Wesley had tried to present: focusing on Kevin Smith as the killer, discounting state witnesses’ testimony, trying desperately to create a reasonable doubt. One by one, Ashton refuted the defense attorney’s points.

Carla Larson’s family listened intently, watching Ashton’s passionate presentation, clearly pleased at the prosecutor’s step-by-step linking of John Huggins to the murder.

John Huggins sat as he had through the entire proceedings, emotionless, inscrutable, seemingly indifferent to the debate about his life swirling around him.

Jeff Ashton moved to face the jury, telling them that the evidence showed no alibi: “Nothing to show that Mr. Huggins was any place other than at the Days Inn or the Publix parking lot.”

When he played the tape of Huggins’s interview with the reporter, Ashton invited the jury to look at and review Huggins’s taped statement and find anywhere in it that there was evidence of an alibi.

Ashton told the jury that when Huggins said, “I don’t think that I am the person that killed Carla Larson,” the prosecutor urged, “Look at his eyes.”

Ashton concluded: “Your verdict, ladies and gentlemen, should be guilty of first-degree murder, should be guilty of carjacking, should be guilty of robbery, should be guilty of kidnapping, because that’s what the evidence you received shows. Thank you.”

Jeff Ashton turned and walked back to the prosecution table.

Following a brief recess, the courtroom filled immediately and Judge Belvin Perry resumed his seat on the bench. The bailiff called the court to order.

All activity ceased as total quiet prevailed and the jury was seated.

The attorneys for the defense sat beside their client at their table, soberly awaiting the forthcoming charge from the judge.

The prosecutors listened attentively, satisfied that they did their job in presenting their case.

Judge Perry, sitting totally erect, began his address to the jury, pointing out its great responsibility in reaching their important verdict.

The judge reviewed step by step the separate charges that were made, and he instructed them how they were required by law to deal with each. He emphasized that their ultimate decision must be based solely upon evidence that had been presented in trial.

There were new complications in the law regarding the death penalty due to the United States Supreme Court’s decision in the Arizona case, which ruled that the jury must hear and decide the penalty phase as well as the guilt phase in a trial.

In his own interpretation of the U.S. Supreme Court ruling, Judge Belvin Perry created and issued to the jurors a special verdict form. It basically listed every aggravating circumstance that the state presented that would warrant the death penalty. There were five in this case. The form would show how each individual juror voted on each of the five aggravating-circumstance factors.

The defense attorneys thought this would give Huggins strong grounds for appeal. “Those verdict forms were not authorized by the law,” Wesley said.

When Perry concluded, he dismissed the jury to go into their room to deliberate.

After the jury filed out of the room, Judge Perry acknowledged defendant John Steven Huggins, who asked permission to speak to the judge.

Bob Wesley had a puzzled expression on his face, but he sat with his assistants watching and waiting for the next event and the judge’s decision.

“You may speak,” the judge allowed.

“Your Honor,” Huggins began, “I have a request to make to you.”

Perry sat up more attentively. “And what is that request, Mr. Huggins?”

“Your Honor,” Huggins politely offered, “I would like your authorization to dismiss my lawyer Bob Wesley.”

The courtroom came alive with whispers. What in the world was this development? Jim Larson looked askance at his mother and whispered, “What will this guy come up with next?”

John Huggins, the accused, stood before the judge, cleanly shaven, hair cut and combed neatly, dressed in a dark suit. He presented an impression of an ordinary citizen who just happened to be in court as an observer, not the man on trial for a heinous murder.

Judge Perry was taken aback by Huggins’s request.

“I don’t know” was his first voiced reaction.

Huggins responded, “Your Honor . . . I believe that it is my right to be represented by counsel of my choice.”

Stiffening, the judge stared at Huggins momentarily and then assured him, “Mr. Huggins, none of your rights will be denied by this court, but at the same time it is the obligation of this court to recognize all proprieties. Mr. Wesley was your choice and yours alone. At this point there is question about the propriety of dismissing him.”

“Your Honor,” John Huggins stated, “Mr. Wesley and I have come to an impasse on the strategy for the penalty phase of this trial.” Huggins stopped, permitting the judge to consider his request seriously.

“Your Honor,” Huggins continued, “this is my life that we are discussing. This is a question whether I shall be permitted to go on living—whether I live or die.” Huggins waited again.

A wave of whispers swept over the courtroom in reaction to Huggins’s request. The reporters asked, “He’s discussing the penalty phase. Is he conceding that he will be found guilty?”

Judge Perry shifted in his chair, grasped a pencil and scribbled a note as Huggins spoke again.

“Your Honor, may I please continue?”

The judge nodded his permission.

“Your Honor, I implore you. Please consider this pleading from me as a man who stands before you asking for your consideration.”

Judge Perry tried valiantly to persuade Huggins that this was not a wise decision and he should carefully reconsider.

But John Huggins was adamant in his request.

Finally Judge Belvin Perry reluctantly granted John Huggins his desire to dismiss Bob Wesley as defense counsel and to represent himself.

“I thank you, Your Honor.”

The judge addressed the defense attorney. “Mr. Wesley, I want you, along with your associates, to stand by in this court and function in an advisory capacity.”

Wesley agreed and sat down again with his associate at the defense table, but they were silent. John Huggins was in charge of his own defense now.

This request created a rare circumstance. Acting as his own attorney put him in the unique position of being able to have direct contact with, and to question members of, the Larson family during the penalty phase of the trial.

Ada Larson turned to Phyllis and Mert Thomas in vexation and whispered, “It’s a circus that he can represent himself and question our family.”

Jim whispered back that he wasn’t bothered by Huggins’s doings. “He’s trying to make a big flash.... Let him have his moment.”

The court went into recess, awaiting the rendering of the verdict from the jury.

Just hours following his denigrating firing of his defense lawyers, John Huggins heard the verdict. The jury returned after five hours to pronounce Huggins guilty on all charges, convicted for the second time.

Ada Larson unabashedly pumped her fist into the air.

John Huggins requested the jury be polled, then sat stone-faced, watching as the jurors were individually asked about each one’s decision.

The jury would return the next day, Friday, July 26, 2002, to consider and determine the sentencing portion of their verdict. The now-convicted Huggins faced the penalty of death or a prison term of life with no parole, which would be decided by the returning jury.

Jeff Ashton stated that he felt vindicated.

Jim Larson, in his usual subdued but serious manner, said, “I’m happy with the verdict. We got what we wanted.”

Mert Thomas, father of the victim, said, “I’m glad it went the way it did.” He paused and then continued. “If we can get the next days behind us, then maybe we can get the whole thing behind us.”

Phyllis Thomas’s view was emotional. “We were thinking that Carla was with us today, guiding us through this.” She dabbed her eyes. “We just hope this shows that the system is working . . . maybe a little too slow sometimes, but I guess it’s working and these people cared. They believe in what they heard and followed through.”