Motion to Suppress (31 page)

"Do you want to stand on ceremony, Collier?" Milne said.

"Oh, let it come in. Subject to a motion to strike if La Russa doesn’t back her up."

Nina and Hallowell walked back, Nina holding her head high.

"The witness will answer the question, subject to a later motion to strike," Milne said.

"Uh, what was the question?" Oskel said.

"For purposes of this question, Lieutenant, I want you to assume that Mr. Patterson smoked only Camels. I also ask you to remember your testimony that a pack of Virginia Slims was found in the robe Mr. Patterson was found wearing underwater. Now, if you had known he only smoked Camels, what conclusions, if any, would you draw as an experienced homicide investigator upon finding the Virginia Slims?"

The jury waited intently for his answer.

The lieutenant came through. "I would assume he ran out of cigarettes and somebody gave them to him," he said simply.

"Now, we know he smoked, and we know that package and no other was found in his pocket. What conclusion would you draw from that?"

"That he was smoking those cigarettes the night he died," Oskel said. It was a wonderful answer.

"Wouldn’t you also investigate whether someone who smoked Virginia Slims was with him the night he died?"

"I suppose."

"You’re the investigator, Lt. Oskel. What would you do?"

"If the defendant also did not smoke that brand, I’d look into it."

Nina moved to close that particular loophole.

"Then why didn’t you? You had all the information readily available. Why didn’t you draw those conclusions and make that further investigation?"

"Because we already had the perp," Oskel blurted.

"You had already decided to concentrate your efforts on convicting Mrs. Patterson?"

"Objection!" Hallowell sounded troubled. "Misstates the testimony."

"Overruled."

Oskel didn’t answer.

"Answer the question," Milne told him.

"I guess so," he said. Nina wanted to throw her arms around him.

"Let’s move on," Nina said. "I believe you found Mr. Patterson’s fingerprints on file."

"Yes."

"Why were they on file?"

"Well, he was a security guard, so he had registered. And once upon a time he had been with the Fresno police."

"Any other reason? Take a look at your report if you wish to refresh your recollection."

Oskel didn’t need to do that. "He had a couple of prior arrests. But no convictions."

"Move to strike the preceding question and answer as irrelevant," Collier said.

Milne thought about it. "Overruled," he said. "Too late."

"What were the charges?"

"Objection. Irrelevant."

"Sustained."

"In your experience as a homicide investigator, would the fact that the decedent had been charged with at least two crimes have indicated the possibility that his death might be related to criminal activities in which he was involved?"

"Maybe." It was all she was going to get.

"Then why didn’t you look into that possibility?"

Oskel didn’t have to answer. The jury understood. To keep on with this line of questioning would be overkill.

"Okay, let’s talk about this cocaine you found."

"Objection. Not a question." Hallowell was going to cut her no slack.

"You testified you found cocaine at the Patterson residence?"

"Yes."

"How much cocaine?"

"An eighth of an ounce."

"Did you find any evidence that this was for sale, rather than for personal use? Scales, other paraphernalia?"

"Not that I noted here on the report."

"Would you have noted it on the report?"

"Yes."

"Where did you find the cocaine?"

"In a sock drawer."

"Men’s socks, or women’s socks?"

"Men’s socks."

"Anything in Mrs. Patterson’s sock drawer?"

"Socks and some very sexy underwear."

"Your Honor..." began Nina.

"Please refrain from characterizing the evidence, Lt. Oskel," said Milne with a slight smile.

"Did the location of the cocaine in the man’s sock drawer indicate anything to you, as an experienced homicide investigator, about who possessed the cocaine?"

The way she had phrased the question, there was no real out for Oskel. Hallowell had his hand to his forehead, apparently trying to think up an objection. "That the man possessed the cocaine," Oskel said reluctantly. "But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t using it too."

"Move to strike the last sentence as nonresponsive," Nina said.

"The sentence is stricken. The jury will disregard the statement."

"Did you also check to see if Mrs. Patterson had a criminal record?"

"Yes."

"Was there any indication whatsoever that she had ever been connected with the use or sale of cocaine?"

"Not in the criminal records check."

"Anywhere else at all? Any indication in your investigation that Mrs. Patterson even knew her husband had that cocaine?"

"No." Lt. Oskel now looked resigned. He knew she wasn’t going to maul him, just nip him a little here and there.

Nina paused. There were several more points to make. She glanced at the clock. Eleven-thirty. She would try to finish by twelve, keep the judge and jury fed and happy.

"By the way, you said Mrs. Patterson became almost hysterical when you started asking her questions."

"Yes."

"Did you take this as an indication of possible guilty knowledge?"

"Well, it could be."

"Lt. Oskel, isn’t it true that this was the first time this lady had learned of her husband’s death, so far as you know?"

"I suppose."

"Are you married, Lieutenant?"

"Objection!"

"Would you think it evidence of guilty knowledge if a woman became hysterical on hearing suddenly that her husband had been murdered?"

"No."

"Did you take this into account in considering whether Mrs. Patterson’s reactions looked guilty to you?"

"Objection! Misstates the testimony."

"He may not have said it, but he implied it, Your Honor," Nina said.

"Approach," Milne said. Now it was Nina’s turn. "If you want to argue an objection, you bring it to the sidebar, Counsel. If you do that again I’m going to see that you regret it."

"Sorry, Your Honor," Nina said, without looking sorry.

When she was seated again at the counsel table, Nina said, "You also testified as to certain statements allegedly made voluntarily by Mrs. Patterson before and after her arrest."

"Right."

"How many times did she say she struck her husband?" Nina turned and looked intently at the jury, and they obligingly listened closely to the answer.

"Once."

"Only one time?"

"That’s right."

"Did she indicate she had been out on a boat that Thursday night?"

"No. I wrote down what she said."

"Did she say anything that might indicate she had knowledge of any events that night after striking her husband that one time?"

"It’s what she didn’t say that was the problem, ma’am. She had no story at all."

That hurt. Nina moved hastily on to her last point. "Regarding the coffee table in the garbage, and the stains on the sofa..."

"Uh-huh."

"What conclusions did you draw from those facts?"

"Looked like she was trying to get rid of evidence, rub out the stains and get rid of the garbage."

"Why would she wait for five days, from Thursday night to Tuesday, when the trash was picked up, to get rid of that evidence?"

"I have no idea."

"Isn’t that delay more indicative of a housewife cleaning up a mess than a murderer covering up evidence of her crime?"

"I have no idea," Oskel said, looking to Hallowell for help. The jury saw the look. They were now clear that he was a far from neutral witness.

"Nothing further. Thank you, Lt. Oskel."

"Any rebuttal?"

"No, Your Honor," Hallowell said. He wanted Oskel to go away. Oskel climbed down. He didn’t look at the jurors as he left.

"Counsel, I understand you have stipulated all the physical evidence on the list may be admitted."

"Correct, Your Honor."

"Right, Judge."

"We’ll recess for lunch," Milne said. "Please be back in court at one-thirty."

"Call Art Wong," Hallowell said. He had three witnesses set for the afternoon. Besides Art Wong there were Brenda Angelis and Peter La Russa. The trial was taking on momentum, gathering speed. The official witnesses were finished. The rest of the witnesses knew Michelle and Anthony. Their testimony could cut deeper.

Art Wong, the motel manager Sandy had recommended so long ago to Michelle, took the stand in a seersucker suit, hardly seeming tall enough to peer over the witness box.

"Mr. Wong, you are and have been for twenty years the owner of the Lucky Chip Motel, correct?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

"Please say yes or no."

"Yes. "

"Located in Stateline, near Harvey’s Casino?"

Mr. Wong nodded. "You have to speak out loud, please," Hallowell added.

"Yes." A soft, shy, high voice. He twisted a handkerchief in his hands.

"On April thirtieth, a Monday, were you on duty at the motel?"

"Yes."

"Did you have contact that night with the defendant, Michelle Patterson?"

Mr. Wong tipped his head and stared at Michelle. "She looks a lot different," he said. "Yes."

"Please describe that contact." Hallowell was looking for a narrative answer. Good luck, Nina thought.

"She booked a room." Hallowell waited, but nothing more was forthcoming.

"Did she book the room in her own name?"

"No."

"What name?"

"Iris Summers."

"But you’re sure it’s the same woman."

"Yes."

"Do you know why she used a false name?"

"No."

"Did she appear distressed in any way?"

"No." What was he looking for from Mr. Wong?

"Who made the reservation for her?"

"The lawyer’s office."

"What lawyer?"

"That lady over there," he said softly.

"Nothing further." Big deal, Nina thought.

"Hello, Mr. Wong," she said.

His eyes brightened a little. He had realized the worst was over.

"Do you know why my office made the reservation?"

"No."

"Did anything Mrs. Patterson do suggest to you she was trying to hide from the authorities?"

"No."

"How often do people register under false names at your motel, and you later learn the names were false?"

"I never know all," he said. "But many."

"And what are some of the many reasons somebody might use a false name?"

"Objection. Calls for speculation."

"Sustained."

"Did Mrs. Patterson return to your motel on May eighth?"

"Yes."

"Did she have a peaceful sleep that night?"

Mr. Wong looked up at the ceiling for information. "No."

"What happened?"

"Somebody tried to break into her room."

"How do you know that?"

"She was screeching and the other people got woken up, so I came outside."

"Then what happened?"

"She calmed down. I fixed her screen and window so she could go back to sleep."

"What was wrong with her window?"

"Somebody used a knife to cut the screen. The window was broken, too, but it was still locked."

"So it appeared someone was attempting to get in her room?"

"Like I said." He appeared annoyed at having to say it twice.

"And she was very frightened?"

"Very loud screaming. And running around in cold night with only underpants."

"So she was in danger?"

"Objection," Hallowell said as expected. "Calls for a conclusion."

"Withdrawn," Nina said. Mr. Wong waited, expressionless, for the next question. "Nothing further."

Hallowell stood. "Just a couple of questions on rebuttal."

"Proceed."

"For all you know, Mrs. Patterson could have engineered that whole incident herself, couldn’t she?" he asked. It seemed like a foolproof question, but Mr. Wong was a smart man.

"No," he said.

"Why not?"

"Too scared. And no reason to."

"Did you see the intruder?"

"No."

"All you saw was the defendant dancing around in her underwear, right?"

"Objection. Leading the witness."

"Sustained."

"Nothing further." Hallowell sat down again, looking disgusted. Nina thought he had not gotten far.

"Call your next witness."

"Brenda Angelis." A tall, thin girl with a gamine haircut and deep red lips took the stand. She wore a tight jacket and skirt of blue denim, black stockings, and black high heels.

"Is it Miss Angelis?"

"Yeah."

"Where are you employed?"

"Prize’s. I’m a cocktail waitress."

"And did you know the defendant in April?"

"Sure. We worked together." Miss Angelis was looking around, enjoying the attention.

"On Monday evening, April thirtieth, were you and Mrs. Patterson working at Prize’s?"

"You got it."

"What, if anything, did Mrs. Patterson tell you about her husband?"

"She said they had a helluva fight the Thursday before. She said he was trying to rape her, and beating on her, and she went nuts and bonked him over the head with a statue. And then she said he disappeared and she thought he was going to ambush her or that he was dead or something. And she was moving to a motel till things cooled down."

It was a sensational statement. Brenda Angelis knew it, and she basked in the limelight.

"Did she give any details?"

"She said he was drunk, and he smelled bad."

"Anything else?"

She thought, then shrugged.

"No?"

"No."

"Did she state anything about the reason for the fight with her husband?"

"Oh, yeah. Right. Uh, he wasn’t going to spring for her therapy anymore. She was seeing a shrink—we should all be so lucky—and she didn’t want to quit."

"Thank you, Miss Angelis." The witness looked disappointed. Hallowell turned to Nina, muted triumph in his eyes. "Your witness."