Murder My Love (18 page)

Chapter 21

The Commonwealth of Connecticut vs. Rita Quigley trial began on the first Monday in November, almost six months removed from the murders. Rather than delegate responsibility to an assistant in such a high profile case, DA Greg Rocklein took the first seat at the trial. The town was abuzz with anticipation. The media had published an article, or aired a segment about the murders on TV virtually very day since the arrest of the suspects. It was too big a case to allow anyone else to prosecute. Had it ended unfavorably, his career would have been ruined.

Rocklein had met with and prepared all the witnesses. It was a rehearsal before trial. He had cautioned them to answer his questions directly and, above all, not to editorialize. He would begin to call them in chronological order from the discovery of the crime to the arrest of the criminals. He reasoned that any deviation from that order would potentially confuse the jurors. It meant that Huff would be the first to be called to the witness stand. An assistant DA had called Huff two months prior to the trial to notify him that he had to collect his notes and have them ready in order to substantiate his testimony. He cautioned him that his notes and reports should be assembled and thoroughly reviewed to insure accuracy, and to eliminate contradiction. Copies would be provided to the defense attorney. In absolutely no way should his testimony on the stand deviate by so much as a comma from what was contained in his reports. He would rehearse his testimony with him at an appropriate time. Huff acknowledged the advice and said he looked forward to the meeting with him.

On the Friday before the trial was to begin, Chief Abby Wilson summoned the four witnesses who would be called from her department. They assembled informally in her office. She assumed the role of mentor, coach, and cheerleader. She had advised them all that the trial would create a media circus and they should not be distracted by the inane questions that would inevitably be thrust at them. “I’m proud of you,” she said. “You’ve done an excellent job, a professional job, and I want you to conduct yourselves in that courtroom like the professionals you are.”

Huff, Stanton, Devlin, and Kurtz squirmed in their seats. They knew that the role they would play was only to testify as to what they saw and what they had discovered. The pep talk was meant only to focus their attention and to let them know that Abby was invested in the outcome of the trial. As she dismissed them she advised, “Go home. Relax. Have a wonderful weekend. I’ll be in court on Monday for the proceedings. Just know I’ve got your backs.”

The four potential witnesses got up to leave, but Abby asked Huff to linger. Huff had already submitted his letter of resignation in order to set the process of his retirement in motion. On the separation form he neglected to include the end-day of his employment. Warmly, Chief Wilson said, “Have a seat, Steve.”

It was the first time during her two-year tenure that she called him by his first name. Instead of sagging his shoulders, as was his customary behavior, he stood erect, at attention, throwing back his shoulders and attempting to tuck in his belly.

Smiling broadly, she urged him, “Sit down, you big dope.”

“What’s the matter, Chief?”

“Nothing. I just want to get your papers in order. You didn’t enter your termination date.”

Sheepishly, he said, “I know.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to be first to testify.” He lingered a moment to collect himself. He continued, “I want to do it in my uniform. I don’t want to do it in a blue suit and have to explain that I had retired.”

Abby swallowed and looked away, on the verge of getting emotional. She told Huff that West Warwick was fortunate to have a policeman with his dedication and loyalty to the job. She emphasized how much he contributed to solving the murders. He could spend his retirement knowing that his years on the police force ended on a high note.

Huff stood up, saluted Chief Wilson and almost blubbered, “Thank you. I’m proud to have worked for you.”

“Do me a favor, Steve. When you take off that uniform, will you please call me Abby?”

Huff exposed his teeth in a wide-mouthed grin, turned on his heels and retreated out of her office for the second to last time.

DA Greg Rocklein’s opening statement was brief. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he began, “The Commonwealth of Connecticut will present evidence that the accused, Rita Quigley, had motive, means and opportunity to murder and maim Linda Greenwell, deceased, and her nephew, Stanley Klopowitz, also deceased. The State will present testimony and incontrovertible evidence that she, and she alone, orchestrated this crime. We will show you photos of the crime scene with our apologies. They are as much disturbing as shocking. They will show you, more than words can possibly do, the violence and depravity of this crime.” The jurors sat quietly, neither looking left, nor right, mesmerized by the cadence and focus of Rocklein’s presentation. Rocklein sat down and Zelman Cohen, attorney for the defense, stood to address the jury.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am gratified that the district attorney has told you that the crime scene photographs are shocking. I submit to you that once you have seen all the photographs, you will agree with me that no one of sound mind could perpetrate such horrible, grotesque butchery. We intend to submit to you expert testimony that Miss Rita Quigley was not culpable of this crime because she was not in control of her faculties at the time of the murders. In layman’s term she was ‘out of her mind’ when she committed these acts.”

The jury remained as enigmatic as they had at the end of Rocklein’s opening statement. Rocklein called, as his first witness, Patrolman Steven Huff. The proudest moment of Huff’s life was about to be played out. He strode into the courtroom ramrod erect. His uniform was crisp, his insignias gleaming, his shoes shined to a luster, his hat tucked beneath his arm. He placed his hand on the Bible and swore to tell the truth. He took the stand and told the jury what he had seen on the day he responded to a call at 172 Elm Street.

Detective Sergeant Bruce Devlin next told the jury that he’d canvassed the neighborhood and found a woman who’d heard gunshots.

Lieutenant Jeff Stanton testified that he’d found the landlord and documented that the dog flap was operational.

Mrs. O’Malley testified as to what she’d heard and seen.

Police Office Gail Kurtz testified how she and Lieutenant Stanton had tracked down the defendant and arranged for her arrest.

The police photographer attested that, in the course of his duties, he was the one who took the photographs that were about to be placed in evidence. The photographs were then submitted to the court and distributed to the jurors. The jurors looked at them cautiously. Some turned away. Some began to sob. Others remained stone faced. The most damning evidence came from Dr. Otto Kruger who methodically discussed each photo and its implication, recounting the stab wounds, the multiple knives, and the gunshots to the sex organs. Finally, he confirmed that the bloodstain on the flowerpot matched the blood taken from the accused. He also confirmed that fingerprints lifted from the pistol by the FBI lab matched those of the accused. Dr. Kruger had displayed his knowledge and professionalism with candor and humility. The jurors were in awe. Mr. Zelman Cohen made no objections and cross-examined not one witness in rebuttal. There was nothing to refute. His only gambit was to get the jury to believe that Rita Quigley was out of her mind when she committed the crime.

Judge McGourty banged his gavel and called a recess for lunch. Everyone in the courtroom was grateful. Their resulting emotions had taken their toll. Abby caught Rocklein’s eye and approached him before he could leave. “What do you think, Greg?”

“There’s no way they can acquit her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Do you think they’ll buy the insanity defense?”

“I doubt it, but you never know. Here’s the good news. I’m playing the tape this afternoon. If that doesn’t seal the deal, nothing will.”

Abby offered him good luck and told him she couldn’t spend any more time in court. She pointedly told him that she’d be rooting for him from the sidelines. He smiled and thanked her for her support.

At two o’clock in the afternoon court was again in session. Rocklein stood before the jury and told them he was about to play an audiotape that had been recovered from the crime scene. He reminded them of Sgt. Devlin’s testimony as to how he retrieved it from the telephone at the crime scene. He warned the jury that what they were about to hear was disturbing. He offered to stop the tape if anyone was overcome by its content. It was a masterful job of setting the stage. Rocklen pushed the ‘play’ button and sat down. Static was first to emanate from the recorder. When voices were heard, several jurors leaned forward. As the last static on the tape had played, virtually every juror was teary-eyed. Rita Quigley sat in her seat at the defense table like a block of granite. It was as though she were in a trance, her gaze fixed forward on a figment in her mind. Judge McGourty decided that the jury was emotionally exhausted and should not be subjected to any more evidence. He called a recess, and declared that court would reconvene the next day at 10 A.M.

The following day, Tuesday, court was again in session. DA Rocklein rose to his feet and announced that the prosecution rested. The judge called on Mr. Cohen to present the defense.

“I call Dr. Sidney Gershon to the stand.”

The doctor marched into the courtroom, swore on a bible to tell the truth and took his seat in the witness stand. The first several minutes were occupied with a recitation of the doctor’s credentials. When the meat of his interview with the defendant had been presented, Dr. Gershon stated categorically that Rita Quigley, at the time of the murders, was not in control of her faculties. Only rage could explain her behavior and people who are seized by rage are unable to exercise selfcontrol.

“Your witness,” Mr. Cohen cried.

DA Rocklein declined to cross-examine Dr Gershon. Rather, he told the court that he intended to present a rebuttal witness. Judge McGourty asked how long would the witness be on the stand. He replied that it might be more than an hour. The judge called a recess for lunch.

During the lunch break Rocklein met with Dr. Weisbrow in his office. Before he could ask her a question, she said, “Relax, I’m an expert at being a witness.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “There’s so much riding on this case.”

“Rest assured, I will destroy his testimony.”

When the trial resumed, Dr. Sylvia Weisbrow wheeled herself into the courtroom. It was impossible for the jurors not to take notice of her assured independence. She maintained the same eccentric persona as when Abby had met with her. Lipstick was painted above her upper lip; her graying hair combed wildly, her eyeglasses sitting on top of her head. The judge allowed her to give her testimony from in front of the witness stand, as it was clear she could not mount the step to be seated in it. Rocklein began by asking her what were her credentials that allowed her to testify as an expert witness. Her publications alone set her apart as one of the foremost forensic psychiatrists in the country. She enumerated a number of famous trials at which she had given testimony, sometimes for the prosecution, other times for the defense. That balanced list assured the court and the jury that she would provide independent and honest testimony.

The questioning ran according to the rehearsal. At the conclusion of her formal testimony, Rocklein asked Weisbrow for her expert opinion. She sat back in her chair and retrieved her eyeglasses. She placed them on her nose and adjusted them so that she could see the jurors more clearly. She cleared her throat, looked directly at them and said, “The defendant, in this case, is a sociopath. She is a devious, scheming, pathologically possessive individual who knew exactly what she was doing and had vindictively planned to murder Linda Greenwell out of jealousy.”

Dr. Sylvia Weisbrow destroyed the testimony of Dr. Sidney Gershon. She had provided DA Rocklein an outline for his summation. However, prior to its delivery, he amended the indictment to felony murder. Abby was not pleased. She asked him why he changed the indictment.

“Abby, she’s going away for life. How can I ask the state to spend millions of dollars defending endless appeals right up to the Supreme Court? It’ll be an exercise in futility. The state is never going to execute a woman. What governor is going to let that happen on his or her watch?” Let’s take the win and be grateful.”

Judge McGourty instructed the jury as to the indictment. It was brief. They had only two options; Guilty of the two counts of felony murder or not guilty by reason of mental incapacity. The jury deliberated for less than six hours. They filed into the courtroom the following day. To a person, they remained impassive. The foreman was asked if they had reached a unanimous verdict.

“Yes, we have, your honor.”

“What say you?” he asked.

“Guilty on two counts of felony murder.”

The judge poled the jurors. There was a hush in the courtroom. Guilty, guilty, guilty rang out twelve times. Rita Quigley stood by her attorney like a statue, unmoving, cold, unfeeling. As the court officers were taking her away, a cheer erupted in the courtroom. The judge banged his gavel to restore order. He announced that sentencing would not be delivered until the conclusion of Conrad Zimmer’s trial. He did not want her sentence to influence the jury that would be impaneled for his trial.

Abby buttonholed Rocklein outside the courtroom. “You got the win, Greg,” she said with a smile.

“Not without the evidence you compiled.”

“Just doing my job.” She said with a wink of her eye.

Chapter 22

One month after the conclusion of Rita Quigley’s trial, Conrad Zimmer’s trial began. The prosecutor presented testimony in the same carbon copy order as the first trial. When the tsunami of testimony and evidence had been presented, the prosecutor, DA Rocklein, rested his case. He believed that conviction would be assured. When he played the tape for the Zimmer jury, several members audibly gasped. Mr. Brady made no objections and declined to cross-examine any of the witnesses. He did not refute any of the evidence. He intended to base his defense on Extreme Emotional Distress. There was no other choice. He could not claim his client was insane. Conrad had unwittingly participated in the horror. Brady was trying to save his client from execution, as the worst possible outcome, or a lifetime of imprisonment, as the best outcome. He essentially agreed with the prosecution that his client aided and abetted the accused felon, Rita Quigley. His gambit was to demonstrate that it was done not only unwillingly, but also under coercion.

Joseph Brady stood, walked to the jury box and while looking directly at each member of the jury said, “I call as my first witness, Mrs. Frieda Zimmer.” Rocklein objected. He called for a side bar. The two attorneys approached the bench. Judge McGourty leaned forward and asked Rocklein, “What’s your problem?’

“Your honor, the defense would be better served if Zimmer’s mother appeared as a character witness at sentencing. We all know that a mother is going to provide less than objective testimony.”

“What say you, Counselor?” addressing his question to Brady.

“Your honor, my witness is going to lay the ground work for my client’s defense. I assure you she will provide insight above and beyond what our psychiatric experts can possibly give us.”

“Proceed, Mr. Brady. Just don’t let this become a love fest.”

Frieda Zimmer took the stand. Brady asked the judge if she could speak extemporaneously, rather than answer specific questions. He allowed the counselor to lead his client’s witness. Brady turned to Frieda and asked, “Tell us about your son, Mrs. Zimmer.”

Frieda cleared her throat. She sipped some water from a glass provided in the witness box, took out a tissue from her purse, and wiped her mouth. She began, “My husband was a difficult man. When Conrad was born, he was the happiest man alive, but Conrad never grew to a normal size. He was always small for his age. He couldn’t do farm work like his father expected. My husband blamed me. Worse, he abused his own son. He treated him like something you scrape off of your shoe. There was nothing I could do about it, except to love my son. Maybe I did it too much. But what is a mother to do? ”

Brady interrupted her. “Tell the jury about his teenage years,” he implored.

“I always knew that my son was different from the other boys.” In guttural German she said, “
Ich wusste, das er homosexuelle
.”

Brady again interrupted her, “You mean you knew your boy was homosexual?”

“Yes!” she said, and began to weep. I loved my boy then, and I love him now. I could never say anything to my husband. He knew. I know he knew! The thought that his son was homosexual made him feel like less of a man. Our marriage was
kaput
.”

Sitting at the defense table, Conrad had his eyes fixed forward, but members of the jury could not avoid seeing the tears streaming down his cheeks.

Brady continued, “With all due respect, Mrs. Zimmer, most every mother loves her child. What was different with your son?”

“Rita Quigley, Mr. Brady. She was my friend for a long time; she was in my home more times than I could possibly count. But, over the years she seemed to have cast a spell on my son. He would always want to be with her and she would always make him do favors for her. He could never say ‘no’ to her. Maybe she loved him different than me. Maybe she loved him more than me.”

Frieda began to sob. “ Conrad
ist schwach
. He’s weak. His father hated him, and I had to hide my true feelings for what Conrad was because of him.” The tears now flowed in a torrent. The judge called a recess.

When court reconvened, Frieda returned to the stand. Brady asked her one more question. “What was Conrad’s relationship with Linda Greenwell?”

Frieda did not hesitate to say, “He loved her. She was like him. He told me how she looked after him and encouraged him to be himself. She was the one who told him to open a beauty parlor.” Making a fist and shaking her arm, she said he became a
mensch
because of her. “He made honest money. He took care of me. He would never harm her.”

Looking at Rocklein, Brady said, “Your witness.”

“No questions, your honor.”

Later that morning, Brady called to the stand Dr. Luke O’Connor, who enumerated the credentials that qualified him to appear as an expert witness. His years of service at the West Hartford Gay Rights Center did not go unnoticed by the jury.

Dr. O’Connor testified that his interviews led him to come to the same conclusion as Conrad’s mother.

“And, what would that be, Dr. O’Connor?” Brady asked.

“Conrad Zimmer is a weak, ineffectual young man who can easily be dominated and manipulated. In psychiatric jargon, we would label him as an ‘inadequate personality.”

Brady thanked the doctor and said, “The defense rests its case.”

During the lunch break, Rocklein called Abby. “What did you make of the mother’s testimony?”

“Well, Greg, to repeat what your expert witness once told me, ‘a shameful past doesn’t excuse a shameful act.’ He’s guilty. He broke into the house. He gave Rita another knife. He purchased the pistol. What more does the jury want?”

“You’re tough, Abby. I hope your kids never get into trouble.”

“They’re well loved by both of us. That makes all the difference in the world.”

“Touche!”

The afternoon session began by Rocklein calling Dr. Sylvia Weisbrow to the stand to rebut the testimony of Dr. O’Connor. Once more, the jury was taken by her self-reliance. Her credentials were impressive. Rocklein began by asking, “Did there come a time when you examined the defendant, Conrad Zimmer?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Would you please tell the court the sum and substance of your findings?”

Sylvia’s testimony was like a thunderclap. It completely destroyed the argument that Rocklein was hoping to make. In summary she said, “Conrad Zimmer is the equivalent of a puppy that can be led by a leash to do just about anything his master commands.”

“I object, your honor!” shouted Rocklein.

“Do you intend to impeach your own witness, Counselor?”

Rocklein looked at Sylvia as if to ask, “Why are your doing this?”

So long as the door had been opened, Rocklein allowed his witness to continue. Had he terminated her testimony, he would have appeared biased before the jury.

Dr. Weisbrow went on to tell the jury that, in her opinion, Conrad lived through other people, searching for an identity because he had none on his own. He had no self worth, which made him vulnerable to predators like Rita Quigley. He did whatever she demanded because he interpreted her favors as love. She concluded by saying, “You may think this behavior is pathetic, but it is not uncommon among young people who believe they are unloved by their parents or the ones who are supposed to be nurturing them.”

Rocklein was devastated. He felt his own rebuttal witness had sabotaged his case. He tried to recover his initiative. He asked his witness, “Dr Weisbrow, in your opinion, did Conrad Zimmer know what he was doing when he was helping Rita Quigley murder and maim Linda Greenwell?”

Sylvia knew exactly where he was trying to lead her. She took in a deep breath, took off her glasses and wiped them clean. As she replaced them on her nose, she said, “If there’s a gun to your head, you can still know what you are doing. But, there is still a gun to your head. In this case, there was a maniac with a knife in her hand.”

On the way out of the courtroom, he threw up his hands and asked Sylvia, “Why?”

She replied, “You asked me for my professional opinion. You didn’t ask me to send a weakling to the gallows.”