In Self Defense (30 page)

Erin sighed.  It was all right there in front of her, but she didn’t see it.  Or maybe she just didn’t want to see it.  Maybe Clare was right -- they were all too focused on the stalker.

A knock at her door shook her out of her contemplation.  She glanced at her watch to find it was almost ten o’clock.

“Hi,” Dusty said, when she opened the door.

“You heard?” she said as she let him in.

He rolled his eyes.  “Who hasn’t?  It was the lead on every news channel in the business.”

“I’m having whiskey,” she told him.  “Care to join me?”

He chuckled.  “No thanks,” he said.  “I’ve already got a headache.”

“I’ve been trying to figure it out -- why we didn’t see it.  We always think we’re so good at what we do, so perceptive, so determined to get to the truth.  Well, we tripped all over the truth in this case and we never saw it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up.  Remember, she never said anything.”

“I was thinking about that,” Erin conceded as they sat together on the sofa.  “And I was wondering, if she had said something -- would we have believed her?”

“I don’t know,” Dusty replied truthfully.  “Sundstrom was right -- she had no real evidence.”

“Still, she knew.  And she had to live with it.  I think it must have killed her on that stand to have to as good as admit that her husband only married her for her father’s company.”

“And yet everyone told us it was a really good marriage.”

Erin downed the final gulp of her whiskey.  “Shows you what people know.”

“Or what they don’t want to know.”

“Still, I’ve been watching that jury,” Erin mused.  “And without something to corroborate what she says, I can’t tell which way they’re likely to go.”

Dusty eyed her.  “What?” he said.  “You think we’re going to be able to find something?”

She shrugged.  “If we can’t -- who can?”

“The captain will never go for this, you know,” he warned her.

“I’m still on vacation,” she told him.  “Maybe the captain doesn’t have to know.”

“Where will you start?”

“I don’t know,” she said.  “I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

“Sleep on it,” he suggested, patting her on the knee and getting up to go.  “Something might hit you in the morning.”

***

The telephone rang in David Johansen’s home office at ten-thirty that night.  It was not a long conversation, just a matter of minutes.  He asked a few questions, he listened to the answers, he scribbled down some notes, and then he hung up.  But the brief exchange was all he needed to realize that his case had just taken a sharp turn to the right.

***

During the long hours of the night, Erin formulated a plan.  She determined the black truck was the place to start.  It was the only real piece of evidence tied to any of Clare Durant’s so-called accidents.  She confirmed that the truck was still in Impound, and then she reached out to Eddie Ridenour.

“We went over that truck with a magnifying glass,” he told her.  “There was nothing there.”

“I know,” she said, “but humor me, please.  There’s got to be something you missed.  There’s just got to be.”

“And how do I square your wishful thinking with my fire-breathing boss?” Eddie asked, because of course he had read the newspaper accounts of Clare Durant’s testimony at trial, and listened to the television analyses filled with healthy skepticism, and he understood where Erin was coming from.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.  “Be creative.”

***

“Defense calls Dr. Robert Ahrens,” David declared when court resumed the following morning.

Clare’s longtime physician lumbered into the witness box, took the oath, stated his name, and presented his credentials.

“Arsenic poisoning is subtle and can be deadly,” he confirmed when asked.  “Because it’s colorless, tasteless, and odorless, it’s often not readily detected.  If administered by someone knowledgeable, it can be a very effective -- and undetectable -- way of killing.”

“Will you please explain the specifics to the jury,” David invited.

“Gradually increasing amounts of arsenic are introduced into the system with the result that the victim begins to feel ill, but not horribly ill, with symptoms usually in the form of headaches, confusion, and drowsiness,” the doctor explained.  “As the poisoning becomes acute, and real damage to the body begins to occur, the victim’s symptoms grow worse, and can often include diarrhea, vomiting, blood in the urine, cramping muscles, hair loss, stomach pain, and convulsions.  The organs of the body that are usually affected by arsenic poisoning are the lungs, the kidneys, and the liver.  The final result of arsenic poisoning is coma or death.”

“Is arsenic poisoning easy to identify?”

“If the right tests are conducted,” Ahrens replied.  “But often, the symptoms of arsenic poisoning can be associated with, and therefore treated for, other, more common, illnesses.  It’s only when the medications prescribed for those other issues have no effect that poisoning is even considered.  In some cases, it can be identified too late.  In Clare Durant’s case, we were very fortunate that we were able not only to identify it, but to catch it in time, and reverse the deleterious effects.”

“Have you had much experience with arsenic poisoning, Doctor?” David inquired.

“As it happens, my brother died at the age of six from eating rat poison,” Ahrens told the jury.  “So toxic contamination has always been of special interest to me.  In 1998, I took a leave of absence from my practice to go to Bangladesh, where I spent the better part of a year working with doctors and scientists who were trying to find remedies for the arsenic poisoning of that country’s drinking water.”

“In your opinion then, Dr. Ahrens, given your personal experience and your professional expertise,” David asked, concluding his direct examination, “could the levels of arsenic found in Clare Durant’s body have led to her death?”

“Most certainly,” the physician confirmed.  “She was already well on her way.”

***

“Was there anything in your analysis, Dr. Ahrens, that conclusively established that the arsenic found in Clare Durant’s body, and attributed to the bottled water she drank, was deliberately put in that water by her husband -- or by anyone else, for that matter?” Sundstrom inquired on cross.

“No,” Ahrens replied, “there was nothing in my analysis to indicate how the poison got into the water, only that it was there, in quantities far exceeding normal.”

“Did you analyze the bottle itself, for any sign of tampering, or any indication of how the arsenic might have gotten into it?”

“I’m afraid not,” the physician admitted.  “At the time, we had no idea there was going to be a murder investigation.  We were concerned only with getting to the bottom of the problem and resolving it.”

“Well then, let me ask you this -- could this contamination have been self-inflicted?”

“What are you asking?” Ahrens countered.

“Come now, I’m sure you’ve known instances where people have purposely made themselves sick, haven’t you, Doctor?”

“Yes, I’ve known such instances.  But if you’re asking me whether I think Clare poisoned herself, the answer is no.”

“But we know Richard Durant was about to divorce his wife,” Sundstrom pressed.  “Is it not possible that this whole episode was nothing more than a wounded woman’s cry for help?”

“I’ve known Clare her entire life,” Ahrens declared.  “The answer is emphatically no.”

“It’s not even possible?”

“Not in my opinion.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Sundstrom said.  “Mrs. Durant is fortunate to have such a strong supporter.”

***

“I can’t believe the prosecutor thinks I would have poisoned myself just to save my marriage,” Clare said, shaking her head.  “Would anyone really do that sort of thing?”

“I don’t know,” David told her.  “But I guess there must be some in Mark Sundstrom’s life that would.”

They were eating lunch in the little room adjacent to the courtroom that was theirs for the duration of the trial.

“How much longer do you think this is going to go on?” Clare wanted to know. 

“Probably not much longer,” David replied.

“I’ve been thinking about asking Elaine to take the children,” she told him.

“You mean until the end of the trial?”

“No,” she told him.  “I’ve been thinking about asking her to take custody of them.”

David was genuinely surprised.  “Now why would you do that?” he asked.  “The case isn’t over yet.  It’s way too soon to give up hope.  And besides, such a move wouldn’t say very much for your confidence in me, now would it?”

Clare shrugged.  “If the prosecutor thinks I could poison myself because my husband was going to divorce me, and then blame my husband for it, the jury could think it, too.  I don’t want my children to have to live with that one minute longer than necessary.  If they’re with Elaine, they can start over, with a different life.”

David was about to say something, but then decided against it.  “Let’s not worry about that just yet,” he said instead.

***

“You live right,” Eddie Ridenour informed Erin when he met her outside the courthouse during the lunch recess.

“Oh my God, what did you find?” the detective asked, holding her breath.

“A partial, under the driver’s seat, on the adjustment lever.  They’re running it as we speak.”

The detective threw a bear hug around the analyst.  “Eddie, I love you,” she cried.

“Yeah, well don’t tell my wife, or there could be hell to pay,” he said with a grin.  “You know -- a divorce, or a murder, or who knows what else.”

***

David rose slowly from his seat when court resumed.  “Defense calls Julie Durant to the stand,” he said.

Beside him, Clare’s head snapped around.  “No!” she cried, jumping up.  “Wait a minute.  Stop!  You can’t do this.  We never talked about this.  I never said you could do this.  I won’t allow it!”

“Mr. Johansen, please restrain your client,” the judge cautioned.

“Yes, Your Honor,” David said.

He turned to Clare.  “You have to let her do this,” he whispered, putting his hand firmly on his client’s shoulder and pushing her back into her chair.  “She wants to do this.  She needs to do this.  Not just for you, but for herself.  So trust her.  And trust me.”

“But why would you put her through this?’ Clare demanded.  “She doesn’t know anything.”

“I didn’t go to her, she came to me,” David told her.  “So why don’t we hear what she has to say?”

The door to the courtroom opened and Julie Durant entered, following a guard all the way down the aisle to the witness stand.  The slip of a girl was wearing a blue pleated skirt and a white blouse and looked, for all the world, like she was on her way to school.  She put her hand on the bible and swore to tell the truth in a voice that was almost a whisper. Everyone in the courtroom leaned forward in order to hear her.

“How old are you, Julie?” David asked.

“I’m thirteen,” the girl replied.

“Is that old enough to know the difference between telling the truth and telling a lie?”

“Yes,” she said.  “I know the difference, and I’m not going to lie.  This is too important.”

“Julie, your mother didn’t know you were going to come here today,” the attorney began.  “Do you know why?”

“Yes,” the girl said.  “Because I asked you not to tell her.”

“Why didn’t you want me to tell her?”

“Because she wouldn’t have let me do this, and it’s important that I do it.”

At the defense table, Clare bit down hard on her lower lip to stifle a cry.

“But if it’s important that you be here, why do you think your mother would have objected?” David asked.

“Because she wants to protect me,” Julie said.  “She doesn’t want me to be involved.”

“But isn’t that reasonable -- that she would want to protect you?”

Julie shrugged. “I guess so, but the thing is -- I
am
involved,” she said.  “It’s just that she doesn’t know it.”

“How do you mean, you’re involved but your mother doesn’t know it?”

“That day -- Father’s Day, when we went to the mountains and we were coming down that steep trail, I was just turning around to tell Peter something when my mother went over the side of the mountain.  I saw what happened.”

“Tell the court what happened, Julie.”

“She didn’t slip and fall by herself.  I saw my father put out his foot and trip her so she would fall.”

Clare let out a little cry and her hands flew to her mouth.  A collective gasp ran through the courtroom.

“Do you mean your father did it deliberately, or that he just maybe lost his balance and fell into her?”

“He didn’t lose his balance,” Julie said flatly.  “I saw him stick his foot out on purpose to trip her up.”

“And you never told anyone?”

“I told Doreen.  She’s our housekeeper.  I told her what I saw as soon as we got home.  And I told Peter, too.  He’s my brother.  But I didn’t tell anyone else.  I was scared.”