Finding Amy (26 page)

The court officer announces that court will be in session and we shuffle into the room's audience area, a small, boxlike section of uncomfortable wooden benches that we're squeezed into like sardines. Gorman is escorted in from our left, only a few feet away. Once again I feel that visceral revulsion toward him I am trained to keep off my face.

Gorman has morphed again. No longer the blond pretty boy or the shaved-headed young tough. He's much heavier now, paunchy, sloppy, and tired. No more Mister Charming with that innocent young “who me?” look that fooled so many girls. This is much better for the jury, I think. I am surprised that they haven't done more to polish him up. Maybe he refused. He's arrogant enough to think he knows best. Hey, Jeffrey, how about a mea culpa when you get up there before the judge.

Around me, I feel the family's tension as Dan Lilley appears and the attorneys begin to deal with Tammy Westbrook's move to avoid testifying and to be allowed to stay in the courtroom with her son. It's difficult to watch Lilley parade around discussing Tammy's memory loss.

I'm relieved when Justice Mills quickly shuts it down. The trial will not be delayed, she says; the motion will be heard in the morning before the jury comes in. “It's not up to me to judge the credibility of this witness in advance. That is for the twelve members of the jury to decide.”

At least it's not a slam dunk for Lilley and the defense. The family half-relaxes. At least for now, the trial is going forward. But the decision is only delayed. We will all carry the uncertainty home tonight.

After discussion, the judge took the firm position that Ms. Westbrook was still under subpoena, was still sequestered, and the matter would be heard the following morning before the jury returned to begin the second day of the trial. The trial then went on with the succession of the roommates at 230 Brighton Avenue stumbling through their incoherent versions of what had taken place the night Amy disappeared, an inconsistent jumble of times and assertions that Gorman was or wasn't in the apartment and had or hadn't discussed the time of his return with his roommates before they were interviewed by the police, interspersed with the chillingly banal testimony of three witnesses that Gorman had casually discussed with them his intention to bring Amy back to the apartment for sex.

These witnesses were followed by Westbrook police officer Tim Gardiner, who testified about stopping Gorman for a high-beam violation at 3:14 a.m. on the morning of October 21, 2001. Gardiner described the routine of a traffic stop, said that he had observed Gorman to see if he was intoxicated, and said that Gorman had been visibly nervous and was the sole occupant of the vehicle. He then located the traffic stop on a map.

In the courtroom, watching all this unfold, were the family and friends who had now waited more than a year to see some kind of closure to the brutal death of a beloved girl: Amy's mother, Diane Jenkins; Amy's father, Dennis St. Laurent, and her “second mother,” Kathy Tuttle; Amy's sister, Julie; Amy's last boyfriend, Richard Sparrow; and Diane's friend Lucille Holt, all accompanied by the Victim Witness Advocates from both the Portland Police Department and the attorney general's office, Janice Hackett and Suzie Miller. These courageous and fearful people would need all the support they could get as they listened to the last witness of the day, Dr. Margaret Greenwald, the state's chief medical examiner, describe the exhumation and autopsy of Amy's body.

Along with her description of the gunshot wound and other injuries, Dr. Greenwald gave a detailed description of the appropriate methods for collection of insect larvae found with the body. Those larvae would play a crucial evidentiary role in establishing a time frame for Amy's death and subsequent burial.

L
AROCHELLE:
At any point during the examination, were insect larvae collected?

G
REENWALD:
Yes, they were … as we were removing the clothes, we could see that there were some larger larvae and pupae, which was sort of large black eggs that the larvae—pupae are in until they become adults and there was some of the larvae over the right arm and shoulder area and as we were looking through the dirt, we saw some smaller larvae which were over the lower extremities.

L
AROCHELLE:
These were collected?

G
REENWALD:
Yes.

L
AROCHELLE:
What was done with them?

G
REENWALD:
Um, some of them were placed in a container that had a paper towel and was moist and had some vermiculite to allow them to survive, to live. Some of them were placed in a solution of alcohol and glycerin which would kill them and preserve them at the state in which we found them.

L
AROCHELLE:
All right. What's the point of treating them differently?

G
REENWALD:
… the entomologist examining them can see them at the exact state that we did if they are killed so they know what size or age they are and then having a live larvae, it allows them to grow the larvae so they can see how long it takes them to reach adulthood.
⁵

In a world where people are fed a steady diet of fictional and true crime on television and in the movies, it is difficult to shift from such riveting yet rather clinically emotionless entertainment to imagine how it must feel to be a parent in a courtroom listening to someone describe your child's state of undress, decomposition, and the necessity to reassemble that child's skull in order to determine the cause of her death. Hearing about the removal of her fingernails. The evidence of a freshly chipped tooth, bruised lips, and broken facial bones telling of premortem blows to her face. The back-and-forth interrogation about the presence or absence of stippling in an effort to determine whether a handgun was used. The inability to get meaningful toxicity results because of the advanced state of decomposition.

It was grueling for Amy's family to sit in the courtroom, dedicated and stoic as her earthly representatives, and hear such things associated with a person they loved, while Gorman, so very much alive, slouched in front of them, turning from time to time to stare and smirk.

At the end of day one, the jurors and the family went home exhausted. The cops and prosecutors went back to work.

T
he second day of the trial began without the jury in attendance. It began with arguments about Tammy Westbrook's claim that she had no memory of her phone call with her son or her appearance before the grand jury. Although the state had anticipated some maneuver by Westbrook, they had been uncertain how she would approach her pending testimony or what her claims would be when she arrived at the courthouse. Attorney Lilley's delivery of the affidavit and motion to quash had clarified her position.

Out of the jury's hearing, the attorneys debated whether Westbrook's subpoena to testify should be quashed, enabling Westbrook to be present in the courtroom during her son's trial rather than being sequestered like the other witnesses. Westbrook's attorney argued that, as the affidavit stated, she had no memory of events surrounding the death of the victim and therefore it would be fruitless to call her. Gorman's attorney took no position.

The prosecuting attorneys contested the fact that Westbrook lacked a reasonable ability to remember, asserting that it was a matter for the court to determine after examining the witness. With Westbrook's evidence as a centerpiece of their case, they were prepared to fight long and hard to get it before the jury. It was dramatic, it was damning, and it would explain to the jury what had really happened the night Gorman claimed he'd dropped Amy off, gone home, and stayed in for the rest of the night.

Based on her reading of the rules, the judge decided to conduct an examination of Westbrook to determine whether or not she had any ability to recall the time of the events in question. Westbrook's attorney countered that because the state contended her claim of memory loss was untruthful, Westbrook might be subject to sanctions such as perjury or contempt of court and therefore arguably had a Fifth Amendment right to decline to answer questions that the judge might pose.

Justice Mills refused to decide the issue of Westbrook's memory, or lack thereof, solely on the strength of a sworn statement claiming memory loss. Instead, she stated that she intended to conduct a voir dire, questioning the witness about her memory in general and, in particular, her memory of events around the time and events at issue.
¹
The attorneys would be allowed to question her as well.

Justice Mills and the attorneys went on to discuss the pressing question of whether Westbrook's grand jury testimony would be used only to impeach her credibility as a witness or whether, despite the traditionally secret and one-sided nature of grand jury testimony, it could be offered as substantive evidence. It was an important distinction. If the testimony was admitted as substantive, as a confession by Jeffrey Gorman of what he had done, it could be used as part of the factual basis for a conviction.

Bill Stokes argued that if Westbrook persisted in her claim of a lack of memory, her prior testimony before the grand jury
was
admissible as substantive evidence. He reminded the court that Westbrook had already tried to avoid testifying before the grand jury, appearing in response to her subpoena and stating she wouldn't testify. She had then been sworn in, had appeared before the grand jury, had been asked some preliminary questions, and had refused to answer. She had been taken before Superior Court Justice Humphrey, advised of her duty to give her testimony, and offered the opportunity to consult an attorney. She had returned the following day with an attorney and been told by Justice Humphrey she had no basis for refusal and that she must testify. Only then had she gone forward and given her testimony.

Now, with Westbrook finally on the stand in open court on this second morning of the trial, Stokes questioned her about some of her grand jury testimony. In response to the question “Nevertheless, are you prepared to come here this morning and tell the truth?” Westbrook had stated to the grand jury: “I have always wanted to tell the truth, I just never wanted to talk. I just wanted the justice system to do their job and let justice be served and leave me out of it. Because I certainly don't want to testify at any trial.” She had also told the grand jury, with respect to the phone call in which her son confessed: “I will never forget it as long as I live.”

Queried now, during the trial, about that testimony and those statements made to the grand jury, she studied the transcript and responded: “This is like reading a book. I do not remember this, sir.”

By the conclusion of her examination, Stokes, Strike, and the judge had all had a turn to question Westbrook. She had exhibited knowledge of where she presently lived, where she was living at the time Amy St. Laurent disappeared, who her family members were, and details of her medical condition caused by the stress of having her son accused of murder. She had also described numerous contacts with the police during the investigation in which she complained that they had accused her son, and she had described being annoyed by search helicopters flying overhead.

The attorneys then argued the issue of quashing the subpoena. After argument, the judge found that Westbrook could, as the rules required, “recall the matter” and that the jury was entitled to hear her and make up its own mind. The motion to quash the subpoena was denied, and Westbrook was ordered to remain sequestered.

I am able to see parts of Tammy Westbrook's testimony. No doubt this woman is in anguish and it is difficult for her, to say the least. But to sit there and listen to “I don't remember. I do not remember, sir,” is ludicrous. She has only lost her memory of the damaging statements.

Stringy red hair wraps around a crazy face with thick eyeliner as Tammy swings in her chair in the box. I must admit it is difficult to sit in that box on a creaky swing chair—a chair designed to enable the witness to move either way to face the attorneys, judge, or jury—I've been in that chair many times myself. But Tammy is swinging in more ways than one.

Stokes is doing the inquiry and he's good at demonstrating to the court in a calm and respectful way that this is bullshit. Tammy Westbrook has a memory of convenience.

“How is it that you remember the police telling you that your son killed Amy St. Laurent but you don't remember what you testified to?”

“I wish I had the answer.”

Lilley is heralding that she is suffering from PTSD. I really believe her, he says. It is ridiculous, I think. An insult to everyone listening.

What about the PTSD of Julie and Diane? Of Dennis? I think, sitting there, containing myself. What about that, Mr. Lilley? But that, of course, is not your problem.

At 9:35, an hour later than they had expected, the jury entered the courtroom and the second day of testimony began with Detective Danny Young. Young was on the stand for three hours, being examined and cross-examined on the basics of the case, including Gorman's meeting with Amy St. Laurent, his subsequent admission that his intentions for the evening were to take Amy back to 230 Brighton Avenue to score with her, and the fact that police had asked to look at Gorman's vehicle but were unable to. Young testified about the intensive search effort and the ultimate location of Amy's body. He served as the vehicle through whom the maps and photographs of the grave site, its location relative to Gorman's mother's house, and the routes from there to the location of the 3:14 a.m. traffic stop and the apartment at 230 Brighton Avenue were introduced.

Young testified about the wooden form for pouring concrete found in the grave, which had been used to cover Amy's body, and about other such forms in the area. Some were located in an unused chicken coop and others were beyond the end of the tote road through some trees by an old abandoned truck, testimony designed to show that whoever had buried Amy St. Laurent was sufficiently familiar with the area to look some distance away or inside buildings for one of the forms. Young confirmed that at the time the grave site was found, the tote road was impassable after the first twenty-five feet.

Young testified that he had driven the route from the 230 Brighton Avenue apartment to the burial site at 2:00 a.m., and that it would take anywhere from eight to twelve minutes, depending on the vehicle's speed. He also testified to the detectives' interview with Gorman in Troy, Alabama, on December 14, 2001, in which Gorman reiterated his earlier statement that he had dropped Amy at the Pavilion, returned directly to 230 Brighton Avenue, and had not left the house again that night.

On cross-examination, Clifford Strike tried to suggest that, according to the maps and the place where the traffic stop had taken place, Gorman might have been coming from the Game Room, one of his favorite hangouts. He hammered on the fact that investigators hadn't found anything in their search of Gorman's vehicle, Gorman's mother's house, or Ryan Campbell's room to link Gorman to the crime. Nor had they ever found the gun.

Young was followed by Eric Rubright, through whom the state established the events of the evening up to the point where Amy, unable to find Rubright, had left the club with Sharma and Gorman while Rubright, according to his statement, had returned to his rented vehicle and driven back to Amy's house in South Berwick. To demonstrate that police had considered and, on the basis of their investigation, rejected Rubright as a credible suspect, they also questioned him about his time-stamped receipts for food and gas, the fact that when he had reached the turnpike he had no change and the toll taker let him on for free, and that he had written a note for Amy and left it with some of her things inside her house.

After Rubright, a toll collector on the Maine Turnpike testified about Rubright's coming through the tolls early on the Sunday morning that Amy disappeared, and his searching repeatedly for change until she finally waved him through and he headed toward the southbound entrance to the turnpike.

Next to testify was Robin MacKenzie, a friend of Gorman's who had visited him in jail and corresponded with him. In response to the question “Did you have occasion to talk to Mr. Gorman about whether or not he had ever carried a gun?” she stated, “He said he had had one with him all the time … I asked him why and he said just in case, you never know if something is going to happen.”

MacKenzie was followed by Travis Gilbert, a gentleman with a rather extensive criminal record, who testified that during October 2001 he had accidentally been released for a week when he was supposed to be in jail, and during that week (a few days before Amy St. Laurent disappeared) he was visiting some friends on Main Street in Westbrook when Gorman arrived and started showing people a gun that he had. Gilbert said he believed it was a 9 mm, but he didn't know much about guns.

Mr. Gilbert was followed by Warden Roger Guay. Sergeant Guay had at that time been a game warden for seventeen years; he was a canine handler and a Maine Criminal Justice Academy certified canine trainer. Guay described the various types of training canines receive, depending on the types of evidence they are trying to recover. Dogs trained to smell human scent and search for lost people. Dogs trained to scent gunpowder. And dogs trained to recover people who are dead. These last are cadaver dogs.

On the day of the search for the body of Amy St. Laurent, December 8, 2001, Guay testified he was working with his ten-year-old chocolate Lab, Reba, a cadaver dog, and was called to a site off Route 22, County Road, in Scarborough. When he arrived, he watched another handler with his canine working the area. The other dog went immediately to a location under a series of small pine trees, showed a lot of interest there, and then broke from there and began to case, searching. Eventually it hit on the area of the grave site. Guay then moved in with his dog, and Reba exhibited the same reactions. First hitting on the area underneath the pine trees, then breaking from there, and relocating the scent at the grave site, six to eight feet away.

Asked to interpret this behavior for the jury, Guay explained that the dogs' stronger reaction to the area under the trees, then a period of searching, and then locating a second scent at the grave site suggested that there were two pools of scent: the stronger pool of scent was under the pine trees, suggesting that the body had first lain there and was only later placed into the grave. He said that for the dogs to have a strong reaction to the first site suggested that the body must have remained there for some time. The fact that the dogs didn't trace the line from the place under the trees to the grave suggested that at some point the body was picked up and moved.

Toward the end of the afternoon, the state called Justin Canney, who worked at Route 112 Auto Sales, where Gorman's mother's boyfriend worked and where Gorman sometimes did pickup work detailing used cars for resale. Canney told the jury that on the Tuesday evening after Amy St. Laurent disappeared Gorman had arrived just as they were closing and began cleaning his car. Gorman had said he was cleaning his car because he had a date. He had also brought up the missing girl, asked if Canney had heard about her, and stated that he might be implicated but he had nothing to do with it.

The next witness was Adam Deveau, nephew of Tammy Westbrook's boyfriend, Rick Deveau, who lived the length of a football field from Westbrook's residence in Scarborough. Adam Deveau testified that when Gorman moved up from Florida, he had shown Gorman around the woods and ponds area behind their houses. That they had fished in those ponds and that Gorman later went there on his own. He also testified that Gorman had told him that if he found stereo equipment down there, not to touch it. (To avoid prejudicing the jury, Deveau was not allowed to testify about Gorman's offering to sell him equipment he'd stolen from customers' cars at work.)

Court adjourned for the day, with the attorneys anticipating that on Wednesday they would finally get to examine Tammy Westbrook before the jury.

I would periodically stop in at the trial for an hour or so in the morning or afternoon, all I could manage with the demands of my new job. I have long been aware of Diane's pain throughout this process. We have stayed very close. What hits—and hurts—me now is how hard this is for Julie.