David Ellis - In the Company of Liars

“The manner of death, Doctor?” Roger Ogren asks.

“The manner of death was unquestionably homicide. The number, angle, and severity of the blows, as well as common sense, rule out any possibility of self-infliction.”

“And the time of death?”

“I would estimate time of death at seven in the evening, on Saturday, February seventh of this year. That is based on several things. The rate of decomposition. The contents of the victim’s stomach. We know from the receipt that he had food delivered to his house at six-twenty that evening. Assuming that he ate the food relatively soon after receiving it, the digestion of the food was at such a stage that digestion had ceased somewhere around seven o’clock. And we can look at the time that was frozen on the clock that was partially broken over his head. The time on that clock was six minutes after seven p.m. That doesn’t conclusively prove that Sam Dillon was murdered at seven-oh-six p.m., but all other evidence would certainly corroborate that point.”

“All right, Doctor. Now I would like to take you through all of the details that led to these conclusions.”

Okay, Deputy Griggs. Other than the broken fingernail and the platinum earring, did you find anything else at Mr. Dillon’s home?”

The witness, Jodie Griggs, is a deputy investigator with the County Attorney Technical Unit. She is a large woman with full red cheeks and curly blond hair.

“We found a follicle of hair belonging to the defendant,” she says.

“Objection,” says Ron McGaffrey, getting to his feet. “That is assuming facts not in evidence. The DNA testing is the subject of dispute.”

A dispute, Allison thinks to herself,but not much of one. The defense has not conceded that the DNA tests established that the hair belonged to Allison, but they have come up with no basis for saying it didn’t. Allison has told her lawyer, all along, not to even bother contesting it.

“Sustained.” The judge nods in the direction of the prosecutor. “The answer is stricken.”

“A hair follicle,” Roger Ogren tries, “that the County Attorney Technical Unit has determined to be linked by DNA to the defendant?”

“Yes. Our DNA tests have shown that.”

“And does the presence of this hair have any significance to you, Deputy?”

“Yes.” The technician settles in the witness stand, crosses a leg. “You can only obtain DNA from the bulb of a hair follicle. Hair that simply falls out doesn’t have the bulb.” She nods to her shoulder. “I probably have a piece of hair on my shoulder right now. But you couldn’t get my DNA from it.”

“Well, if hair that simply falls out does not contain a bulb, and therefore no DNA,” asks Roger Ogren, “then what does that mean for this follicle of hair that you recovered, which contains the bulb?”

“It means it was pulled out,” she answers. “It suggests a struggle.”

“Very good. Deputy, what else did you find, in the course of your search as an officer with the County Attorney Technical Unit?”

“We searched Mr. Dillon’s computer.”

“And did you find anything of significance?”

“We did. There was an e-mail-an electronic mail message from Mr. Dillon’s computer on Sunday, February eighth, 2004. The very early morning following the night of his death.”

“What time was it sent?”

“It was sent at one-eighteen a.m. and forty-two seconds on Sunday, February eighth, 2004.”

The prosecutor gets the court’s permission to admit a copy of the e-mail into evidence. He hands a copy to the defense and places a slide copy on an overhead projector.

From:“Dillon, Samuel” ‹sam. dillon@interserver.com›

To:“Pagone, Allison Q.” ‹ Allison@allisonpagone.com›

Re:Attorney-Client

Date:Sun, 8 Feb. 2004 1:18:42 AM

A:

NEED TO DISCUSS FURTHER. GETTING WORRIED. MANY WOULD BE UNHAPPY WITH MY INFO. NEED ADVICE ASAP.

S

“Now, Deputy Griggs, let me ask you.” Roger Ogren remains next to the projector. “You are familiar with the prosecution’s theory in this case that Mr. Dillon was killed at around seven p.m. on Saturday, February seventh, 2004. Are you familiar with that?”

“I am.”

“Now, according to this e-mail”-Ogren points with the tip of a pen to the “Date” line-“this e-mail was sent from Mr. Dillon’s computer at one-eighteen in the morning on Sunday, the eighth of February, 2004.”

“Correct. One-eighteen and forty-two seconds.”

“A little over six hoursafter that timeframe of seven o’clock the previous evening?”

“Yes,” she says with confidence.

“One might claim,” says Ogren, “that this proves Mr. Dillon was still alive long after the time we argue he died. Notwithstanding the forensic evidence relating to decomposition of the body and of the food in his stomach-notwithstanding all of that evidence and more-one might say this e-mail proves that Sam Dillon was still alive early Sunday morning.”

“Object to the form,” says Ron McGaffrey.

“Sustained.”

“Well, then I’ll say it this way. As an investigator into the murder of Sam Dillon, Deputy Griggs, did seeing this e-mail give you pause about the time of death?”

“It did. Until we searched Allison Pagone’s home.”

“And what did you find in Allison Pagone’s home that spoke to this issue?”

“Her computer. Allison Pagone is a novelist. She writes fiction. She writes crime novels.”

“I’ve read them,” says Ogren.

“So have I.” She smiles briefly. “We looked through her computer. We looked, among other things, at her ‘trash’ file.”

“What is a ‘trash’ file?”

“It is a file of discarded documents. You do it to clear out space on your hard drive. And then you can ‘recycle’ the trash, which means you are dumping the files even from that ‘trash’ bin.”

The judge nods. Old-school as he is, he probably has a computer, if not two. He might already understand the concept of a “trash” bin. This judge is probably in his late sixties, which could render him clueless in an information era with exponentially improving technology. Her ex-husband, Mat, can hardly type and only recently learned the wonders of the internet. Her daughter, Jessica, in contrast, who was practically raised online, can do things on a computer that Allison would never dream of understanding.

“Go on, Deputy,” says Roger Ogren.

“We found a rather large manuscript in the ‘recycle’ bin of her trash. Meaning it had been dumped, and then dumped again.”

“You have the capability to find such a document, even when it has been completely discarded?”

“We do.” The witness proceeds to explain the technicalities of the CAT Unit’s data-retrieval methodology. It is not surprising in the least to Allison, and a bit frightening, that the government has the means to retrieve almost anything that ever appeared on a personal laptop computer.

“Tell us about this rather large document you found after it was discarded twice,” Roger Ogren requests. “First of all, when it was created, that sort of thing. Were you able to determine that kind of information?”

“Absolutely we were. Once the document is retrieved, you can look at all of the document’s properties. It is as simple as clicking on ‘properties’ on the menu.”

“Were you able to print out this ‘properties’ page, Deputy Griggs?”

“Yes.”

Ogren shows her a piece of paper. “Is this a true and accurate slide copy of that page?”

“Yes.”

Roger Ogren gets the judge’s permission to enter the document into evidence, then places it on the overhead projector:

Location:C:\Documents and Settings\My Documents\Novels\Best.Served.Cold.Draft.1