Chapter 39 Eddie

39

Eddie

Artie Chase butted in before I could ask a formal question.

‘This was a good investigation. My team and I were thorough, meticulous and professional.'

Ordinarily, I would object. Have the judge direct the jury to disregard the witness's last statement.

I didn't. Instead, I reminded the jury exactly what Chase had said, counting off his points on my fingers as I spoke.

‘Thorough. Meticulous. Professional. Is that right?'

‘Dam— Sorry, absolutely right.'

Chase was getting a little tetchy. He didn't like any criticism. Real or inferred. He was going to have to get used to it.

‘When you inspected the crime scene at Margaret Blakemore's home, you found no evidence of a struggle. Did you find any evidence that anything in the home had been disturbed?'

‘No. The house was clean and orderly, with the exception of the victim lying on the floor and the fact that the front door was left open.'

‘This home had a lot of expensive furniture, fittings, lighting. There was jewelry sitting on dressing tables upstairs, and the deceased wore a number of expensive rings. Is it safe to say you did not consider this to be a robbery?'

‘At first, I didn't rule anything out, but you are right. After looking around the property, there was no evidence of items being stolen. As you say, there were a number of pieces of personal property that could have been taken, but were not. Mr. Blakemore also confirmed, later that day, that nothing in the property had been taken. I then formed the theory this was not a robbery homicide.'

‘Detective, most women in the United States are murdered by someone close to them. A partner, a boyfriend, a spouse. Correct?'

‘Correct. However, Mr. Blakemore was not in the state at the time of the murder. That alibi has been verified.'

I didn't ask him if he suspected Alan Blakemore. He had anticipated my line of questioning, and tried to head me off at the pass. This was Chase's first mistake. One that I was going to jump on.

‘I didn't ask you if Alan Blakemore was a suspect. I asked you about homicide perpetrator statistics. So you're telling me that Alan Blakemore was your first suspect until you ruled him out of the investigation?'

‘Ah, I— Well, he was never an official suspect, but, like I said, my team was thorough, meticulous and professional.'

I could've argued with Chase, made him confirm that he had investigated Alan Blakemore and had him as suspect number one. But I decided it was better to use Chase's reluctance to admit this.

‘You have already confirmed there was no sign of forced entry, so, with your thorough, meticulous and professional approach, you were looking for people who knew Margaret Blakemore who might have a motive to kill her?'

‘We were looking for other suspects, yes.'

‘Suspects who perhaps were romantically involved with Margaret Blakemore?'

‘Perhaps. We did ask Mr. Blakemore if he knew of anyone who might want to harm his wife and he confirmed that he didn't know of anyone.'

It was time to bring this thing to a head.

‘So, if Mr. Blakemore wasn't an official suspect, are you telling me you had identified no suspects prior to the anonymous caller?'

I liked this question. It gave no room for a good answer. If he said there were no suspects prior to the anonymous call, he looked incompetent. If he said there were, then it looked as though he was keeping something from the jury.

He paused to think.

‘Is that a difficult question?' I asked. ‘It's just that we know there were no less than two suspects identified by police who were suspected of killing Margaret Blakemore – isn't that right?'

Chase nodded, said, ‘Yes, there were.'

‘So was your reluctance to admit that because you want to hide the existence of those alternative suspects from the jury?'

‘No, not at all . . .'

‘Detective Chase, you're not telling this jury the whole story, are you?'

‘The two suspects identified were quickly ruled out. They had alibis.'

‘They were at a party on West 74 th Street on the night of the murder?'

‘Correct.'

‘Together?'

‘With other individuals, yes.'

‘Would it be possible, at a busy and noisy party, to slip out of the front door unnoticed?'

‘No,' said Chase, and now he was in trouble.

‘It's not possible to do that? So your officers spoke to every person at the party, right?'

‘Correct.'

‘And every minute that those individuals were at the party was accounted for by witnesses?'

Chase said nothing. He just bit down on his lips. Smoothed his pants.

After a few seconds more, he said, ‘No, they did not account for every minute.'

‘I see,' I said. ‘So when you told this jury it was not possible for either of these two individuals to slip out the front door unnoticed, that was a lie?'

‘Not a lie – I was just momentarily inaccurate.'

‘ Momentarily inaccurate sounds a lot like alternative facts to me. You understand you are under oath today, Officer?'

He nodded.

‘Having made assumptions in your investigation as to possible motives, neither you nor your officers conducted a thorough search of the upstairs bedrooms, did you?'

‘We carried out a once-over search. It was not a search and seizure situation.'

‘You were looking for possible motives, suspects, yet you didn't find this . . .'

I walked back to the defense table and Kate handed me our first exhibit.

‘This is a cellular phone, registered to Margaret Blakemore, and hidden in her sock drawer in the bedroom upstairs. This phone contains only two contact phone numbers, and one text message remains on the phone. From the text message, it's clear the deceased was involved in a sexual relationship with at least one of these contacts. You were not aware of this, were you?'

‘No, this is the first time I've seen that phone.'

‘Your Honor, this should have been disclosed . . .' Castro was on his feet, objecting, blood filling his angry cheeks as we both approached the bench.

‘Your Honor, I didn't know if the police had seen this phone, and ignored it, or had never seen it before until I asked this officer. For all I know, they'd examined it and deemed it irrelevant. Obviously, we want to submit this as a defense exhibit,' I said, stretching the truth as far as I was comfortable with in front of a judge.

‘This is blatant ambush tactics, Your Honor,' said Castro.

‘Maybe he's right? He knows all about ambushing his opponents . . .'

‘Alright, alright,' said Judge Zell, and stared at me.

He knew I was getting blindsided with an anonymous witness by Castro. This gave me a little leeway of my own.

‘Is there anything else relevant that you have not disclosed to the prosecution?' he asked me. ‘What's on this phone?'

‘One text message, sent by the victim maybe six or seven hours before the murder. We haven't been able to trace the other phone numbers to registered devices. But it's clear from the SMS message the deceased was involved with at least one of these contacts. There are phone calls from both numbers to the victim's phone the day before the murder.'

Zell was a decent man, and had the makings of a good judge.

‘I'll admit the exhibit. But you have to promise me there are no more surprises.'

We returned to our tables, Castro shaking his head as he walked away.

‘Detective Chase, read this message, sent by the victim just hours before the murder. My partner, Miss Brooks, will put this up onscreen so the jury can read it too.'

SMS message sent to CONTACT: SMS sent at 17:05.

After all we've been through, you're still treating me like a piece of shit. I'm always second best, aren't I?

I'm done being your fucking piece on the side.

I can end you with one phone call.

Maybe I should tell everyone what you've done.

How would you like that?

Then you'll know what pain feels like.

The courtroom fell silent.

‘Detective Chase, Margaret Blakemore is threatening to reveal information. If you'd read that message before the anonymous call came in, you would have had a high priority suspect, correct?'

Chase said nothing for a moment. His jaw worked back and forth as he ground his teeth. He knew what he had to say. The answer was clear in his mind, and to everyone else in the courtroom, but it was as if his body refused to let those words out of his mouth. After another few seconds, the silence was becoming uncomfortable. He realized he was making things worse.

‘That's possible, but—'

‘Wait, you have a threatening conversation taking place with an unknown person hours before the victim was murdered, and it's only possible that person would be a suspect?'

‘They would have become a suspect, but they would have been the wrong suspect, Mr. Flynn. Your client had the murder weapon in his home with his DNA present on that gun.'

I had been waiting for this.

‘Detective, you don't know how long that gun was in my client's closet, do you?'

‘No.'

‘So it's possible that this unknown suspect could have shot Margaret Blakemore, and planted that weapon in his home.'

‘Not possible,' he said.

I had been expecting this. Waiting for it.

‘Are you sure? Could you be momentarily inaccurate about your answer? Take a moment before we have that conversation again. Just think carefully now. It's possible an unknown suspect could have shot Margaret Blakemore and planted that weapon in my client's home, correct?'

‘Possible,' spat out Chase, but he added, ‘but not likely.'

I had three more questions. I wanted to increase the tempo of question and answer. Chase was already pissed off. I stepped closer to him, fired out the next question fast, with a little spice in my tone.

‘You said at the beginning of this cross-examination you and your team were thorough, meticulous and professional. It was unprofessional to miss that cell phone, laziness not to search her property fully – isn't that right?'

‘No, I—' said Chase, firing back his answer immediately.

‘You wanted to make an arrest alright, but it didn't matter who you arrested, did it?'

‘We got the right man,' he said, leaning forward, spitting his answer into the courtroom.

I had done my best with Chase, introduced the possibility of doubt. I didn't want to name Bale and Ellis yet, not until we had more evidence. Getting specific on these two would only give Castro a chance to knock them down and eliminate them one by one. Now, the jury was left with questions. Who were these suspects? Were they having an affair with the victim? Juries asking themselves questions is where the defense wants to be. Doubt is the defense attorney's nirvana.

The last question I tossed out just as fast. And I waited to see his reaction.

‘You know the identity of the anonymous caller, don't you?'

His mouth opened, and he inhaled, and then shut it again. Castro was on his feet.

‘Objection, Your Honor,' he said.

‘What? Why? Either he knows who the anonymous caller is, or he doesn't. That information has not been disclosed,' I said.

But I knew, in my gut, why Castro was objecting.

We approached the bench, so the jury and the rest of the courtroom wouldn't hear our whispered conversation.

‘He can't answer that question, Your Honor,' said Castro.

‘I don't see why not?' said the judge.

Castro swallowed, looked at me sideways then back at the judge.

‘Your Honor, the anonymous caller is now our anonymous witness.'