Presumption of Innocence: David Brunelle Legal Thriller #1 (21 page)

Chapter 41

"Russell Orbst, Ph.D."

He looked every bit the expert professor. Neatly trimmed beard, and eyeglasses that Brunelle suspected had a prescription of zero. And he was clearly comfortable testifying. He responded to the questions from the lawyer by turning to the jury to deliver the answers.

"Could you please tell the jury your qualifications?" Welles invited.

Brunelle sat back and listened to the list of universities, degrees, and awards.

"Approximately how many times have you testified as an expert witness?"

"More than I can count," was the smug reply.

"But less than you used to," Yamata whispered to Brunelle.

The introductions out of the way, Welles moved directly to the heart of the matter. "Doctor, have you had a chance to review this case?"

"Yes," he looked to the jurors. "I have."

"And was that done at my request?" Welles clarified.

"Yes, it was."

"Specifically," Welles continued, "did I ask you to form an opinion regarding vampires?"

Russell laughed casually at the obvious ridiculousness of the question. "Yes, you did."

"Now, doctor," Welles became more serious in response to Orbst's laugh, "are you familiar with any cases of individuals actually believing they are vampires?"

Orbst nodded thoughtfully, trading his bemused smile for a clinical scowl. "Yes, I'm afraid I am. Such cases are more common than one might think. In fact, there is actually a clinical diagnosis for it."

"Is that right?" Welles asked as if he didn't already know.

"Yes," replied Orbst. "It's called, appropriately enough, vampirism."

"And what are the symptoms of vampirism?"

"There are several symptoms," Orbst began, "but not all of them need to be present for the diagnosis to apply. The main symptoms are delusions, paranoia, narcissism, and often insomnia. There are also documented cases of auditory and visual hallucinations. One also often sees a deep sense of persecution."

"Are you referring to individuals who want to be vampires?" Welles clarified, "Or who already believe they are vampires?"

"Well, both types exist of course," Orbst turned to direct his response to the jurors, "but the diagnosis I was referring to applies to those who actually believe they are in fact vampires."

"Do such people ever act upon this belief?" Welles asked.

"Do you mean do they bite people in the neck?" Again a comfortable look at the jury.

"Perhaps not the neck," Welles replied, "but yes, is there an attempt to drink human blood?"

Orbst frowned at the jurors. "Unfortunately, yes. Believe it or not, there are actually advocacy group for vampires. They fight what they consider misinformation about vampires. But even they claim a need for human blood. They just assert that the blood is obtained consensually by people who understand and support these true vampires."

"I imagine," Welles posited, "that such understanding blood-donors are rare."

"I would think so," chuckled Orbst. "Hence the neck-biting."

"Now these people who believe they are vampires," Welles steered the topic slightly, "they aren't really vampires, are they?"

"Umm, no." Orbst smiled at the jurors. "There are no such things as vampires."

"And believing yourself to be a vampire doesn't make you a vampire?"

"Believing yourself to be a vampire makes you mentally ill."

Welles smiled. "Would you go as far as to say that it would make you insane?"

Orbst pretended to think about the question. "Yes," he answered after a moment. "I would agree with that.

Welles took a moment to let the jurors get interested again. "Could you explain to the jury just what is meant by the word 'insane'?"

This time when Orbst turned to look at the jury, he opened his palms and took on a truly professorial affect. "People use the word 'insane' everyday, and they use the word 'crazy' and more colorful terms like 'nuts' and 'wacko.' In day-to-day speech, that's fine. We all understand it simply means something strange or out of the ordinary. But in the legal field, in a courtroom setting, insane has a very specific definition."

"And what is that definition?" Welles was practically salivating as he asked the question.

"A person is legally insane if he doesn't appreciate the wrongfulness of his conduct, if he is unable to distinguish right from wrong."

Welles nodded. "So why would someone who believes he's a vampire be considered legally insane?"

"If someone truly believed he was a vampire," Orbst explained, "then he would truly believe he needed human blood to survive. There is a principal in the law called necessity. There are times when it is lawful to kill someone. One of those times is when it's necessary to save your own life. A person who truly believed he was a vampire might truly believe he needed to kill another person in order to preserve his own life. He would be wrong, but he would still believe it. And that would make him insane."

Welles turned away from Orbst for a moment. When his back was fully to the jury he gave Brunelle a wink.

"Now, doctor, I'd like you to imagine the following hypothetical." Welles turned back to his witness. "A man who truly believes he's a vampire, and truly believes he needs the blood of young girls to survive, goes and murders a young girl to drink her blood. Would that person be insane?"

Again a pause for fake consideration. "Yes. Yes, that person would be insane."

"And if a person commits a crime because they're insane, can that person be found guilty of the crime?"

"No," Orbst turned and instructed the jury. "That person would be not guilty by reason of insanity."

"Thank you, doctor." Welles looked up to the judge. "No further questions. Your Honor."

Brunelle watched Welles take his seat at the defense table. Welles didn't wear his usual smug grin—not in front of the jury. But he didn't have to. His direct had been perfect. It planted the seed of doubt generally, without ever actually admitting Karpati committed the murder or really thought he was a vampire.

So it was Brunelle's turn to cast doubt on the doubt.

"Good morning, doctor. It is doctor, right?"

Not really
, Brunelle thought.

"Yes," Orbst replied. He was undoubtedly used to the question, so kept his testiness in check, but Brunelle knew it still bugged him. "I have a PhD in psychology."

"Okay, but you're not a medical doctor?"

"I don't need to be. I have five years of advanced studies in human psychology and behavior. Knowing how to perform ankle surgery wouldn't make me any more qualified."

So, not too testy, but definitely close to the surface. Yamata was right. Good.

"Do you have a practice then?" Brunelle asked. "Patients you see on a regular basis?"

Orbst turned again to deliver his answer to the jury. "My expertise is forensic psychology, not clinical. I conduct research, write articles, and of course, testify in court. I don't maintain a list of clinical clients on top of that."

"So you make your living testifying?"

Orbst took a moment to reply, wisely considering the question. "I make my living as a forensic psychologist. Testifying is just one of the aspects of that."

Brunelle nodded. Then he gestured toward Orbst. "Nice jacket."

Orbst seemed taken aback. "Er, thank you."

"Is that Lauren?"

"Uh, no," stammered Orbst. "It's an Antoni."

"Antoni," repeated Brunelle. "Is that a nice brand?"

Orbst shrugged. "Pretty nice."

Brunelle peered over the little wall in front of the witness stand. "Nice shoes, too. Are those also Antoni?"

"Antoni doesn't make shoes," Orbst replied.

"Your Honor," Welles stood up. "I'm going to object. I don't see how Mr. Orbst's fashion choices are relevant to the case at bar."

"I'm getting to that," Brunelle replied.

"Get to it quick, Mr. Brunelle," the judge warned. "Or move on."

Brunelle turned back to Orbst. "Your shoes are scuffed."

Orbst looked down. "Are they?"

"Well, more like the sole is paper-thin. And your jacket is fraying at the end of the sleeve."

Orbst raised an arm to examine the unwinding threads.

"Your practice or whatever has seen better days, I take it?"

"I don't have a clinical practice," Orbst reminded him. "And my forensic psychology business is doing fine, thank you."

"You don't get paid much for those articles you write, do you?"

"I get royalties."

"You can't live on the royalties."

"Well, no. Not exclusively."

"In fact, you make the majority of your income from testifying, isn't that true?"

"I am paid for my time." The standard answer. Time, not the opinion. Really.

"In fact," Brunelle pressed, "you'll say whatever you're paid to say, isn't that right?"

Brunelle knew it was too soon to ask that question. Orbst had heard it a thousand times and would knock it down easily. But then Orbst would think he'd won the exchange and relax.

"Of course not. I am a professional and have a reputation to maintain. A psychologist who would just say anything would soon lose all credibility."

Brunelle nodded, hand to his chin. "Good point, good point. I mean, you want to be the kind of witness who gets hired again and again, right?"

"Consulted, not hired," Orbst corrected. "And yes, exactly."

"You haven't been testifying in criminal cases very long, have you?"

Brunelle saw Orbst tense up at the question. He hoped the jury noticed it too.

"I've testified in criminal cases for some time now," Orbst answered coldly.

"But before that," Brunelle continued, "you mostly testified in civil cases, isn't that right? Lawsuits, malpractice, divorce and child custody? Stuff like that?"

Orbst nodded carefully. "Yes, stuff like that."

"And in that kind of a setting, you might get hired by either side to testify, correct? Husband or wife? Patient or hospital?"

"Correct."

"And then you screwed up, didn't you?"

Orbst's face hardened. "I didn't screw up. I testified honestly and the judge made a decision."

Brunelle smiled. Yamata was right. Orbst still wasn't over it. "You testified that a man was mentally fit to raise his children, then he drowned his daughter in the bath tub."

"I testified honestly and accurately about a forensic psychological opinion. The court made a decision based on all of the evidence in the case, not just my testimony. That little girl's death is not on my head."