Capitol Offense (21 page)

Their wedding photos.

The last time she’d seen him, she’d been encouraged. She’d thought he might be getting over it, because she could see that he had dressed and groomed himself. In fact, he’d been wearing a suit and looked quite attractive. This was the day of the murder.

Ben realized that she must have seen him on his way to Ben’s office.

“Did you ever observe him doing anything violent?”

“No,” she assured Ben readily. “Never. Not before or after he lost his dear wife. Never.”

“Did you ever hear him talk about doing anything violent?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Ever see anything that suggested he might be planning something violent?”

“No.”

“How would you describe his demeanor on the last occasion you spoke to him?”

She thought several moments before answering. “I would say he was a changed man. Dramatically altered. I’m sure there was a glimmer of the old Dennis in there somewhere, but I couldn’t spot it. He was not himself.”

“Thank you. I have no more questions.”

Guillerman, however, had several.

“You’ve testified that you never saw any indications that the defendant was planning anything violent.”

“That’s so.”

“But you have said he muttered a lot. What did he mutter?”

“Mostly his wife’s name. Joslyn.”

“Anything else?”

She smiled sadly. “Fizz. It was a nickname he had for her.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m sure I can’t recall everything …”

“Did he ever mention Detective Christopher Sentz?”

The elderly woman’s lips turned down in a small frown. “On occasion.”

“And did he mention the detective favorably?”

“No.”

“What did he say?”

She took a deep breath. It was obvious she did not want to continue but felt honor bound to answer the question truthfully. “He called him a murderer.”

“I see. Did you detect any anger when he said this?”

“What do you expect?”

“He was very angry at Detective Sentz, wasn’t he?”

“Can you blame him?”

“You’re not answering the question.”

“Yes. He was very angry at Detective Sentz. But that doesn’t mean—”

“Just answer the questions, ma’am. Would you say he thought about Detective Sentz a lot?”

“Probably.”

“That would be my guess as well. Now, one final matter, and let me thank you already for your cooperation today. You described in some detail how changed you found the defendant after he lost his wife, right?”

“Yes. Dramatically so.”

“As I’m sure is to be expected when someone loses a spouse, something which, sadly, is not all that uncommon. Thousands of people lose spouses every year, but they don’t all go out and commit murder as a result.”

“Objection!” Ben said.

“Sustained.”

“I’m sorry, your honor. I was distracted. What I meant to ask was, Ms. Sultan, you’ve said you thought the defendant was different. But would you describe that difference as insane?”

“Objection!” Ben said again. “The witness is not qualified to render a psychiatric opinion.”

The judge shrugged. “She can give her personal opinion, based on her observations, and the jury can give it whatever credence they deem appropriate.”

“Thank you, your honor.” Guillerman repeated the question. “Did he ever strike you as insane?”

There was a long pause before the witness answered. The silence hung between them, weighted and immoveable.

It seemed an eternity before she answered. “No,” she said quietly. “He did not.”

“Thank you,” Guillerman said, walking away. Ben sensed it was taking everything he had not to gloat. “No more questions.”

Ben’s lead witness after the lunch break was the first of two medical experts he would be calling. Dr. Stanley Hayes was an emergency medicine specialist operating out of a hospital in Oklahoma City. He was in his mid-fifties, bald on top and salt-and-pepper on the sides, slightly pudgy but certainly no more than might be expected from a successful man of his age and height. He was active in several state and national medical organizations and had been the keynote speaker for the National Council of Emergency Room Personnel. Ben established his credentials and then revealed that he had reviewed all the records pertaining to Joslyn Thomas and was familiar with the case.

“Your honor,” Guillerman said, “let me renew my objection to this witness and his entire anticipated testimony. It has no probative value.”

Judge McPartland looked annoyed. Perhaps he was still angry about the gag order violation. “Mr. Prosecutor, I have already ruled on your objection and you have made a record. Please sit down.”

Ben continued his direct. “Could you explain what caused the death of Joslyn Thomas?”

Hayes spoke directly to the jury box. “Dr. Thomas suffered numerous injuries from the crash, which, after not being treated for many days, led to her death. Upon impact, she was impaled by a jutting piece of metal that pierced her leg, right about here.” He pointed to a spot on his upper thigh. “This rendered her immobile, although given the condition of the automobile, I doubt she could have gotten out in any case. She also suffered a severe concussion, though it did not render her permanently unconscious. She had numerous lacerations, all over her body. One wound to her forehead bled profusely. She also suffered a broken arm, a broken clavicle, and two broken ribs, injuries she presumably received upon impact.”

“Of all these injuries, which were the most profound?”

“The most dangerous would be the impalement of her leg, though they were all serious. Broken limbs can be especially nasty when they go too long untreated. With the leg wound, though, there was profuse bleeding, not to mention the deadly danger of gangrene. Blood poisoning from the metal is also a danger. Worst of all, her kidneys had been damaged, causing a buildup of toxins in her system. That, coupled with the dehydration and malnutrition, is probably what caused her death.”

“I noticed you used the word
probably
, Doctor. Is there some uncertainty about it?”

He spread his hands wide. “In a case such as this, when there are so many factors at play that could have caused death, it is virtually impossible to know which one delivered the final killing stroke.” He paused, then his voice dropped a notch. “And I don’t really see that it matters much.”

“Indeed.” Ben flipped a page in his outline. This was where the examination got tricky. “Dr. Hayes, this is a delicate matter I’m about to raise, and I apologize in advance, but it’s something the jury needs to know. During this time that Joslyn Thomas was trapped in her car … would she have felt any pain?”

“Objection!” Guillerman said. “I must raise the same argument again, your honor. This is entirely inappropriate. This testimony is not relevant to any matter at issue in this trial.”

“I’m going to allow it,” Judge McPartland said, “just as I told you all the previous times you made this same argument. And if you make it again, your associate will have to take over the prosecution, because you will no longer be at liberty.”

Guillerman sat down, not pleased.

“You may answer the question,” Ben said, urging the witness onward.

“Oh my, yes,” he said. He seemed genuinely distressed. “Almost nothing on earth hurts as badly as a broken rib. She had two. Plus a broken arm. Plus a sharp piece of metal jabbed into her leg. The pain would have been … well, unimaginable. Indescribable.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Ben said, “but just so the jury can understand, I’m going to ask you to try.”

“In the medical profession, we have what is known as the pain scale. There are many different factors involved in measuring and evaluating pain, but for the purposes of this trial, all you need to know is that basically it’s a one-to-ten scale. One is relatively minor pain, and ten is the maximum it is possible for human beings to endure.”

“And where on the scale would you place the pain that Joslyn Thomas experienced, Doctor?”

“Ten,” he said, his face set and grim. “And if there were any higher numbers, I would say that.”

“I see. And she would have felt this pain throughout the period she was trapped in the car?”

“Of course. Her concussion did not induce unconsciousness. There was nothing to alleviate the pain. She was still conscious, albeit only barely, when her rescuers arrived.” He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “She would have felt the pain.”

“For seven days.”

“Yes,” the doctor said. “Day and night.”

Ben remained silent for a few moments, appearing to search through his outline for his next question. He wanted to let that horror linger in the juror minds before he dropped the next bomb.

“Doctor,” Ben continued, “you’ve described Joslyn Thomas’s injuries as being ultimately fatal. Could she have been saved had help come sooner?”

Guillerman was halfway to his feet before he stopped himself. Ben could see he desperately wanted to object, but apparently not desperately enough to get himself locked up on a contempt-of-court charge. The image of the DA sitting behind bars was not one likely to win votes.

“Almost certainly so,” Dr. Hayes answered. “Although she had many injuries, no one of them was so catastrophic as to guarantee death. What ultimately killed her was time.”

“Can you explain what you mean, Doctor?”

“I mean injuries of this sort will only get worse if they are not treated. She bled more. The poison spread. The toxins multiplied. And perhaps most critically, she remained dehydrated and without nourishment. The more time passed, the worse she got. Until finally it was too late and she could not be saved, not even by the best team of medics imaginable.”

“Can you give us an estimate of when she would have reached the point of no return?”

He leaned forward, nodding his head. “Of course it’s impossible for me to set out a precise timetable, because no one was there collecting data. But based upon my analysis of the records, I see no reason why she couldn’t have been saved, had she been found, after several days. In fact, I would go so far as to say she could have been saved had she been found a day earlier. Possibly even a few hours earlier.”

“So if the police had launched their investigation sooner, as Dennis Thomas had been urging them to do for days, she might have lived?”

Out the corner of his eye, Ben could see Guillerman gnashing his teeth. But he kept his mouth closed.

“Almost certainly,” Dr. Hayes said. “I’d stake my reputation on it. They could have saved that young doctor’s life. If they had just moved sooner.”

“Thank you,” Ben said. “Pass the witness.”

“Permission to approach the bench,” Guillerman said. He appeared near the smoldering point. The judge nodded and waved his fingers. Ben followed Guillerman up to the front.

“Your honor, I renew my objection, and I further formally protest the scurrilous tactics being used in this trial.”

“One thing at a time, counsel.” McPartland appeared underwhelmed. “What’s the basis for the objection?”

“This testimony is irrelevant. What difference does it make if the poor woman suffered pain? What difference does it make if she could have been saved? None of that is relevant to whether Christopher Sentz was murdered.”

“The testimony goes to our affirmative defense,” Ben said quietly.

“That was my understanding,” the judge added. “It goes to the state of mind of the defendant at the time the killing occurred.”

“What is he saying?” Guillerman asked. He was visibly angered, and Ben didn’t doubt it was genuine. “That this guy’s wife died in pain, so it was okay for him to take out a cop?”

“I doubt if that’s how he’ll put it in closing argument,” the judge said dryly.

“Probably not,” Guillerman barked, “because that would be too honest!”

The judge put his hand over the microphone. “Counsel …”

“This is the most offensive defense I’ve encountered in my entire career!” Guillerman continued. “Who are we kidding? This defendant killed a police officer. A senior detective. He planned it, then he consulted with his attorney on how to construct a good defense, and then he put the plan in action. He killed Detective Sentz in cold blood and faked a blackout so that he would look—” He pointed a finger to his temple and drew circles in the air. “—craaaaaazy!”

“None of this alleged premeditation has been proven,” Ben felt obliged to point out. “I’m simply presenting a textbook, by-the-numbers case of temporary insanity.”

Judge McPartland gave him a long look. “Well now, let’s not push it too far, Mr. Kincaid.”

“That’s not what he’s arguing at all,” Guillerman said, “and you know it as well as I do, Judge. What he’s asking for is jury nullification.”

“That’s not true!” Ben insisted.

Guillerman continued. “No one believes his client was insane, even temporarily, and he’s not really asking them to. What he’s saying is, his wife died a horrible death and it was all the police department’s fault, so forget about the law and let my man walk.”

“That is not correct. But what’s wrong with asking for justice? When the application of the law would produce an unjust result, don’t jurors have the right to use their own judgment?”

“That’s jury nullification, and it’s unethical and grounds for disbarment.”

Judge McPartland did not respond nearly as quickly as Ben would have liked. “I will admit that this aspect of the defense case troubles me.”

“Your honor,” Ben said firmly, “all I’m trying to do is show the jury what could cause a perfectly ordinary and harmless man to contemplate the most extreme actions. He didn’t just lose his wife—he lost her in the most horrible way imaginable. It wasn’t an unavoidable accident. The police had the power to find her a few hours after she disappeared. They chose not to. I am not in any way saying that made it okay to kill Detective Sentz. But I am saying that such dramatic and catastrophic events can render the most healthy brain temporarily unhinged. And this theory will be reinforced by my psychiatric witness.”

“For the price of six hundred dollars an hour,” Guillerman muttered. “That’s a lot of money for an opinion of insanity.”