The 3rd Victim (35 page)

‘Oh for fuck's sake,’ said David.

‘I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Mr Cavanaugh. Now step back before I hold you in contempt.’

*

‘Mannix,’ barked Joe after he'd dragged his cell out from his inside jacket pocket. He and Frank were on the road, cruising other local motels for any sign of the man named Marco De Lorenzo. They knew the cause was close to hopeless, and Joe was ruing their being so close and coming up with zero.

‘It's Susan,’ said their FBI friend Susan Leigh. ‘You sound pissed.’

‘I am pissed,’ replied Joe. He looked at Frank. ‘Hold on, I'm in the car with Frank. I'm putting you on speaker.’

‘You pissed too, McKay?’ asked Susan as a greeting.

‘Been better, Susan.’

‘Then I'm afraid I'm gonna dump some more rain on your parade.’ Susan took a breath. ‘You got my message about your guy St John being in the country?’

Susan had used her FBI clout to get immigration to pull records on international arrivals at rocket speed – and Joe was grateful.

‘Yes, thanks.’

‘Well I made a few more calls in regard to his credit card and found out he's staying at the Four Seasons.’

‘A rich shrink,’ said Joe. ‘Why am I not surprised?’

‘No,’ said Susan, ‘that's not what I mean. There was a charge for room service on the card that was instantaneously reversed. Apparently St John complained. Told the hotel's reception manager that all expenses, along with his $650-a-night suite, were to be charged directly to the District Attorney's office.’

Joe frowned as he glanced right at Frank. ‘This St John must be important to him if he's willing to fork out …’

‘The DA's as cheap as a three-legged cow, Chief,’ said Frank.

Joe said nothing, knowing that Frank was right.

‘You talk to Cavanaugh?’ asked Susan, changing tack.

‘He's gonna ask his client about the shrink – if she's seen him before.’

‘Okay,’ said Susan. ‘Well, you know where I am if there's anything else.’

Joe didn't hesitate. He knew it was vital they keep their current line of investigation confidential, but he also knew time was running out fast, and he trusted Susan unequivocally. ‘Marco De Lorenzo, forty-five, single. He's unemployed, kind of a drifter, last spotted at a motel in Lincoln. He was driving a light blue Buick but I don't have a plate.’

‘De Lorenzo,’ she said slowly.

Joe imagined her writing it down.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I'll see what I can find out.’

Joe looked at Frank again, knowing they were both thinking the same thing – that Susan was something special. She never even considered asking them why.

‘Thanks, Susan,’ said Joe.

‘That's okay,’ she replied. ‘We're all on the same team, Chief.’

Most of the time
, thought Joe.
But not always.
‘We'd better go,’ he said.

‘Okay. I just have one more question for Frank.’

‘Shoot,’ said Frank.

‘Why are three-legged cows cheap, McKay?’

‘Because they're meant to have four,’ said Frank.

‘Of course,’ said Susan.

‘Wasn't it obvious?’ said Joe.

‘Guess I'm slow,’ said Susan, before disconnecting the call.

73

‘I
t is called arterial spurting,’ said Martinelli.

David swallowed. The day was not going well. There had been one plus – his mid-morning recess conversation with Sienna had confirmed she had never seen nor heard of the British psych named St John – but Martinelli's testimony, all three hours of it so far, was hurting them.

‘Arterial spurting,’ repeated the Kat, who was as fresh and aggressive as he was when the session first started. ‘And this means …?’

‘The staining on her baby clothes and the corresponding blood spatter on the bedroom wall above her cot indicate that when her throat was cut, an artery was severed. In simple terms, arterial spurting refers to the gushing of blood from the wound site.’

‘But I thought it was Eliza's jugular vein that was severed?’ said the DA.

‘Yes, but veins tend to bleed in a river-like fashion. This would explain the soaking down the right-hand side of the baby's bed suit.’ Martinelli gestured toward the blown-up image of Eliza Walker's all-in-one suit. ‘The arterial spurting accounted for the spatter on the walls and the corresponding spatter found on the nightshirt her body was wrapped in.’

‘The spray seen here on the defendant's nightshirt,’ confirmed Katz.

‘Yes,’ said Martinelli, who had been over this twice before. In fact the Lieutenant had been moving back and forward between images of the nightshirt, Eliza Walker's night clothes and a resurrected shot of Eliza's bedroom for much of the past two hours. The only plus was that David sensed the jury were starting to tire.

The DA nodded. ‘And so, in conclusion,’ he said, perhaps deciding that he should get out while he was still ahead, ‘the blood spatter in the bedroom – the walls, the pooling on the carpet next to the cot, the stains on the defendant's nightshirt and the evidence on Eliza's clothing – what do all of these blood spatter indicators tell you, as one of the most experienced crime scene forensics experts in the country, about how the child was killed?’

‘Objection. Speculation,’ said David.

‘Overruled,’ said Stein. ‘The witness's job is to draw conclusions based on the evidence and his analysis of it. You may answer the question, Lieutenant,’ he said.

David suppressed a sigh of frustration.

‘Given the evidence,’ Martinelli continued after a breath, ‘I would conclude Eliza Walker's throat was cut from left to right while being held by the person wearing the nightshirt.’

And there it was.

‘And could you be more specific about the manner in which the child was being held at the time when her life was taken?’

Martinelli breathed again. ‘She was being cradled.’

‘Like this,’ Katz mimicked a mother's embrace.

‘Yes.’

The Kat shook his head, allowing his arms to drop to his sides as if defeated by the very thought of it.

‘Thank you. I have no further questions for this witness, Your Honor,’ he said as he moved slowly back to his desk, giving David the slightest of glances, a glint of pure victory in his eyes.

*

‘Lieutenant Martinelli,’ said David. He was up and moving – fast – determined to break the mood of mourning his nemesis had so successfully cultivated. He now knew, given Katz's so far impeccable prosecution, that he had no choice but to throw everything at Martinelli that he could get his hands on – whether or not it made sense at this point.

‘Were you in Eliza Walker's bedroom at the time of her death?’

Martinelli hesitated after retaking his seat. The question was almost derogatory but David sensed the forensic guru would have almost expected an aggressive cross after the DA's successful examination.

‘No,’ he said.

‘So you cannot confirm it was my client who was wearing that nightshirt?’

Another pause. ‘No.’

‘Or that she was the one who was cradling the baby in death?’

‘No.’

‘But in your opinion the person wearing the nightshirt did indeed kill Eliza Walker?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then we agree on one point,’ he nodded, the first box he intended to tick ticked.

‘My client's blood …’ David knew he had the jury's attention now and was determined to make the most of it. ‘The half-litre or so you found at the crime scene, was there anything unusual about the sample you collected?’

David's aim was to fire a series of shots over the bow – seemingly random, disjointed shots he prayed would both confuse the DA and come together in some sort of order by the end of his cross.

‘Can you confirm what you mean by unusual?’ asked the witness.

‘Well,’ said David, ‘did you note the presence of any particular chemical substance in my client's blood?’

‘Objection.’ The DA grabbed for a file on his desk. ‘The defendant was examined at great length both before and after her arrest. Blood tests did
not
find any trace of any narcotic including those used in common antidepressants.’

The Kat thought David was playing the post-partum depression card, but he was wrong.

‘I didn't ask the witness about antidepressants, Your Honor,’ said David.

‘He's right, Mr Katz. I'll give him some room here. Objection overruled.’

The DA retook his seat.

‘Lieutenant, would you like me to repeat the question?’ asked David of Dan Martinelli then.

‘No, my answer is yes … I mean, I
did
find trace elements of a chemical compound in the blood sample belonging to the defendant.’

‘And the drug?’

‘It was dimethyl sulfoxide or DMSO.’

‘And this DMSO, what is it used for?’

‘It's an anti-inflammatory, used to treat injuries.’

‘Like pulled muscles or sore joints?’

‘Yes.’

‘And does it have any other uses?’

Martinelli nodded. ‘It is used in cryopreservation.’

‘It's used to preserve blood?’

‘Yes.’

‘By freezing it for use at a later date?’

‘Yes.’

‘In transfusions and the like?’

‘Yes. It's added to the blood to preserve it during transportation, for example – so that it might be transfused at a later date.’

‘So the blood sample you identified as belonging to my client contained a drug which suggests that blood may have been taken and frozen at some time prior to –’

‘
Objection
!’ The Kat shot up. ‘Your Honor, this is unacceptable. Mr Cavanaugh is obviously using some vague reference to some easily explained trace element. This line of questioning is not only irrelevant and misleading but is tantamount to unfair surprise given the Lieutenant did not place any importance on the presence of this substance in his report. As such I would ask this portion of the witness's testimony be stricken from –’

‘Your Honor,’ David didn't miss a beat. ‘The DMSO is in the Lieutenant's report. ‘Perhaps the DA was so enamoured by the accompanying photographs that he –’

‘
Mr Cavanaugh
,’ barked Stein. ‘One more comment like that and I'll fine you for insubordination.’ Stein took a breath. ‘That being said,’ he turned to Martinelli, ‘is the substance listed in your analysis, Lieutenant?’ he asked.

‘Yes, Your Honor,’ offered Martinelli. ‘Page 13 section 5(b).’

‘And this is the same report provided to the prosecution?’

‘Yes, some months ago,’ said Martinelli.

David had to swallow a smile.

‘All right then. Your request for the DMSO to be stricken is denied, Mr Katz,’ said Stein, before turning once again to David. ‘But I suggest you make your point, Counsellor,’ he added, ‘and be quick about it.’

A grateful David nodded before taking a few steps toward the witness. ‘So just to confirm, Lieutenant, my client's blood contained a substance that is used in freezing.’

Martinelli considered the question. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It is normally washed out before transfusion but some traces of it can be found.’

‘So the specimen of Mrs Walker's blood that you took from her daughter's bedroom might have been taken and frozen at an earlier date?’

Another pause.

‘It's possible.’

‘And thawed and distributed in that bedroom?’

‘It's within the realm of possibility.’

‘All right then,’ a relieved David nodded. His second box was ticked, giving him the courage to go for broke.

‘Lieutenant,’ he said, now changing course toward the jury. ‘Eliza Walker's body was discovered some weeks after her death.’

‘Yes.’

‘And you were there when one of your experienced technicians – a Sergeant William Vaughn, I believe – retrieved Eliza Walker's body from the drain pipe?’

Martinelli nodded. ‘Yes.’ This was not news to the courtroom. The DA had gone over the events of that morning several times.

‘Who found her?’

Martinelli's brow furrowed. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Who found her – Eliza Walker?’

Martinelli still couldn't see it. ‘Well, as mentioned, Sergeant Vaughn –’

‘No, I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I don't think I am making myself clear. What I mean to ask is, who was the first person to indicate there was something in that pipe which was relevant to this case?’

Martinelli nodded, finally understanding what was being asked. ‘I believe it wasn't a person but a dog – from the Boston Police's K9 division. I think her name was Bella.’

David nodded, moving a step closer to the jury before turning to face Martinelli once again. ‘Police sniffer dogs are used repeatedly in cases such as these, would that be correct, Lieutenant?’

‘Yes,’ said Martinelli. ‘They are incredibly reliable. Our Lab depends on them heavily to locate the evidence we can't. We often work as a team – they find it, we extract it, and preserve it, and analyse it …’

‘So the K9s are often called to a crime scene the moment it's reported?’

‘Yes, especially when we believe there is evidence to be located which is not immediately visible.’

‘Like an abducted child?’

‘Yes.’

‘Which was why Captain O'Donnell called in the K9s on the night of Eliza Walker's murder?’

A pause. ‘Yes.’

‘And why the dogs were –’

‘Objection
!’ Katz exploded out of his chair. ‘Asked and answered.’ The DA obviously knew where this was heading and it must have been scaring the crap out of him.

But David was ready, determined not to give the Kat an inch. ‘Your Honor,’ he said, ‘the District Attorney was extremely thorough in his questioning of this witness this morning, and therefore, I do not see why defence counsel should not be awarded the same latitude in cross.’

Stein did not hesitate. He was on board. There was no way the judge was going to shut down this line of questioning – as he too must have seen the implications of what David was about to suggest. ‘Your objection is overruled, Mr Katz,’ said the Judge. ‘Go on, Mr Cavanaugh.’

David nodded before turning back to the witness. ‘Lieutenant, were you aware that the K9 squad attended the scene on the night of Eliza's murder?’

‘Yes. It was in the original police report and in fact I saw the dogs there myself.’

‘You saw them and their presence was recorded in the report delivered to the District Attorney?’ he said, wanting to rub salt into Katz's now gaping wound.

‘Yes.’

‘And on that night, the dogs were given clothing belonging to the victim in the hope they might locate her nearby?’

‘That is standard procedure.’

‘But they didn't find her?’ said David, now turning about to face the jury.

‘No,’ the witness answered behind him.

‘Despite the fact that, once again according to that report, they did several circuits of the house and the courtyard where Eliza Walker's body was found?’

Martinelli gave the slightest shake of his head. David was sure the forensic expert was wondering why in the hell someone hadn't noted this earlier, but that was the nature of crime scene investigations – sometimes the most obvious things went unnoticed, usually because the DA had taken the wheel of the bus and driven it in a direction he saw fit.

‘The dogs didn't find her,’ Martinelli said.

‘And considering you have worked with these animals … what, several, dozens –’

‘Hundreds of times,’ Martinelli interjected just where David wanted him to. ‘Yes, I find this remarkable. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that …’ Martinelli hesitated.

‘To say what, Lieutenant?’ asked David.

‘That it would have been impossible for them
not
to find her.’

‘Unless she wasn't there,’ said David, the courtroom now frozen around him.

‘Yes. Unless she wasn't there.’