Steve Martini - The Jury

Harry will want to go back to the jail and rack Crone, to find out what it is he hasn’t told us this time.

“When did you discover this information?” I ask him.

“Friday.”

“This last Friday?”

“That’s right.”

“Little late in the game, isn’t it?”

“We had no way of discovering this. Witness came to us. Out of the blue,” he says.

“A new witness? Someone not on your witness list?”

He nods.

“We’ll probably object to your putting whoever it is on.”

“We’ll have to thrash that out in court,” he says.

“How credible is this witness?”

He makes a face, shopkeeper assessing the value of goods, looking at the binder propped up against his chest so that I can’t see it. “One of the things we have to check out,” he says. “But we do know that the witness was in a position to know some of the details that have been given to us. It should not take long to obtain confirmation. I feel bad about this,” says Tannery.

“You should,” says Harry.

“No, I mean it. You guys have been straight shooters,” he says. “I really did want to do a deal. Thought we could. I did believe that it was an impulsive act. That your guy got in over his head, lost his temper. Workplace rage,” he says. “It does happen. I mean even with the mutilation. We don’t usually make an offer in such a case. You know the public sentiment,” he says.

“That was all done after she was dead,” says Harry.

“Soon after,” says Tannery. “We know that. All part of a single act.”

“So what are you saying?” I ask.

“What I’m saying is that if this information proves out, it could still be a crime involving a good deal of rage. But perhaps with a different motive.”

Harry and I are looking at each other, totally lost.

“What? The motive is less socially acceptable?” asks Harry.

“I think I’ve said all I can for the moment.”

Tannery is still studying the binder in front of him. I am wondering if he’s run into some stone wall, so that he is trying to reinvent his case, coming up with a new theory as to why Crone was angry with Kalista Jordan.

“We are not prepared to wait for long,” I tell him. “I am compelled to tell the court about our conversation here today.”

“I understand,” says Tannery. “We’ve already taken steps to do that.” He opens the binder in front of him, pulls out a single sheet of paper, letter sized, and hands it to me. “You’ll be getting a copy of this in the mail for your files.”

It is a letter to the trial judge advising that the state has exercised due diligence in discovering new evidence, that they have notified the defense of the nature, but not the details, of this information until the D.A. can assess its accuracy and relevance. Tannery has headed me off. It would be difficult to complain to the court when a disclosure has been made, even if it is only a partial one. His letter removes a lot of the wind from our sails were we to file a motion arguing that we’ve been sandbagged. Tannery is covering all his bases.

Through years of practice in Capital City I had come to observe the disparate forms of evidence in criminal cases, everything from scholarly court lectures by experts to furtive undercover videos of politicians lapping up bribes while making crude jokes about “servicing the people.”

As entertaining as some of these might be, they could never match the chilling content of a schooled medical examiner reciting the details of a sudden and violent death.

Max Schwimmer’s speech still retains hints of an Austrian accent, a remnant of his childhood. “Of course” comes out “ af coss.”

He is the county’s chief medical examiner, and today Tannery has him on the stand outlining the case of murder against my client.

At the heart of the case is the infamous cable tie, a thin piece of white nylon. This one was nearly forty inches long, though one end had been cut. It is ratcheted on one side by tiny teeth molded into a nylon strip. When slipped into the yoke at the other end making a loop and pulled through, these teeth make a sound like a zipper as the tie is tightened. The tie locks in place and can be moved in only one direction, to tighten it. When pulled fast, it can hold tremendous tension. Cable ties may be purchased in any hardware store and are used by everyone from electricians to bundle mazes of wire, to cops who sometimes use them as temporary handcuffs to collar rioters. In this case, a cable tie was used to strangle Kalista Jordan.

“Doctor, can you state with certainty the cause of death?”

“Asphyxia. Technically, it was mechanical asphyxia.”

“You’re not saying that some machine did this?” Tannery is holding up one of the photos of the victim, her head looking like a purple blister about to burst.

“Mechanical asphyxia is a technical term. She was strangled, by the application of a ligature, in this case a nylon cable tie that was fastened and pulled tight around her throat.”

“I believe you stated earlier that the victim was rendered unconscious at some point prior to death. Do you know how long after the ligature was applied before the victim would have become unconscious?”

Schwimmer thinks for a moment. “Perhaps a minute, maybe two, after the ligature was tightened. Up here. Up high,” he says. The pathologist motions with both hands, front and back around his throat. “All movement by the victim would cease within three or four minutes.”

“So she might still be moving even though she was unconscious?”

“Some involuntary reflexes,” says the doctor.

“Would she feel pain during this period?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And how long before death took place?”

“The heart would stop beating within another five minutes.”

“So if my calculations are correct, from the time the ligature was applied to the point of death might have been anywhere from nine to eleven minutes?”

“That’s right.”

“So there is nothing quick, instantaneous or particularly humane about this kind of death?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Would you call it a lingering death in that it is slow?”

“Yah. Several minutes.”

“Would you call it a painful death?” asks Tannery.

“Objection. The witness has already testified that the victim was unconscious at the time of death.”

“Your Honor, I’m talking about the period before she became completely unconscious.”

“Overruled. The witness can answer the question.” Judge Harvey Coats is himself a former prosecutor. He was elected to the bench six years ago, knocking off an incumbent appointed by the governor, who failed to heed the warnings of local law enforcement that his man did not have their blessing.

“I would say that strangulation is a painful way to die,” says Schwimmer. “I would not choose it if I had a choice.”

“Would you call it an agonizing death, Doctor?”

“Objection.”

“I think you’ve made your point,” says Coats. “Move on.”

If Tannery wanted to drive this sword in deeper he would now take out his watch, turn to the jury, stare at them, and time it. Two minutes of silence would seem like a year. Nine to eleven minutes, assuming some tepid judge would allow it, would be an eternity. I have had it done to me, and I have done it to others. Fortunately for us, Tannery doesn’t think of this.

Instead he takes a different course.

“Can you describe for the jury the physical effects suffered by the victim as the cable tie was applied and tightened around her throat?”

“The tie is very strong. The one in question used here has a tensile strength of two hundred and fifty pounds.”