Stephen Penner - Presumption of Innocence

Orbst pretended to think about the question. "Yes," he answered after a moment. "I would agree with that.

Welles took a moment to let the jurors get interested again. "Could you explain to the jury just what is meant by the word 'insane'?"

This time when Orbst turned to look at the jury, he opened his palms and took on a truly professorial affect. "People use the word 'insane' everyday, and they use the word 'crazy' and more colorful terms like 'nuts' and 'wacko.' In day-to-day speech, that's fine. We all understand it simply means something strange or out of the ordinary. But in the legal field, in a courtroom setting, insane has a very specific definition."

"And what is that definition?" Welles was practically salivating as he asked the question.

"A person is legally insane if he doesn't appreciate the wrongfulness of his conduct, if he is unable to distinguish right from wrong."

Welles nodded. "So why would someone who believes he's a vampire be considered legally insane?"

"If someone truly believed he was a vampire," Orbst explained, "then he would truly believe he needed human blood to survive. There is a principal in the law called necessity. There are times when it is lawful to kill someone. One of those times is when it's necessary to save your own life. A person who truly believed he was a vampire might truly believe he needed to kill another person in order to preserve his own life. He would be wrong, but he would still believe it. And that would make him insane."

Welles turned away from Orbst for a moment. When his back was fully to the jury he gave Brunelle a wink.

"Now, doctor, I'd like you to imagine the following hypothetical." Welles turned back to his witness. "A man who truly believes he's a vampire, and truly believes he needs the blood of young girls to survive, goes and murders a young girl to drink her blood. Would that person be insane?"

Again a pause for fake consideration. "Yes. Yes, that person would be insane."

"And if a person commits a crime because they're insane, can that person be found guilty of the crime?"

"No," Orbst turned and instructed the jury. "That person would be not guilty by reason of insanity."

"Thank you, doctor." Welles looked up to the judge. "No further questions. Your Honor."

Brunelle watched Welles take his seat at the defense table. Welles didn't wear his usual smug grin-not in front of the jury. But he didn't have to. His direct had been perfect. It planted the seed of doubt generally, without ever actually admitting Karpati committed the murder or really thought he was a vampire.

So it was Brunelle's turn to cast doubt on the doubt.

"Good morning, doctor. It is doctor, right?"

Not really , Brunelle thought.

"Yes," Orbst replied. He was undoubtedly used to the question, so kept his testiness in check, but Brunelle knew it still bugged him. "I have a PhD in psychology."

"Okay, but you're not a medical doctor?"

"I don't need to be. I have five years of advanced studies in human psychology and behavior. Knowing how to perform ankle surgery wouldn't make me any more qualified."

So, not too testy, but definitely close to the surface. Yamata was right. Good.

"Do you have a practice then?" Brunelle asked. "Patients you see on a regular basis?"

Orbst turned again to deliver his answer to the jury. "My expertise is forensic psychology, not clinical. I conduct research, write articles, and of course, testify in court. I don't maintain a list of clinical clients on top of that."

"So you make your living testifying?"

Orbst took a moment to reply, wisely considering the question. "I make my living as a forensic psychologist. Testifying is just one of the aspects of that."

Brunelle nodded. Then he gestured toward Orbst. "Nice jacket."

Orbst seemed taken aback. "Er, thank you."

"Is that Lauren?"

"Uh, no," stammered Orbst. "It's an Antoni."

"Antoni," repeated Brunelle. "Is that a nice brand?"

Orbst shrugged. "Pretty nice."

Brunelle peered over the little wall in front of the witness stand. "Nice shoes, too. Are those also Antoni?"

"Antoni doesn't make shoes," Orbst replied.

"Your Honor," Welles stood up. "I'm going to object. I don't see how Mr. Orbst's fashion choices are relevant to the case at bar."

"I'm getting to that," Brunelle replied.

"Get to it quick, Mr. Brunelle," the judge warned. "Or move on."

Brunelle turned back to Orbst. "Your shoes are scuffed."

Orbst looked down. "Are they?"

"Well, more like the sole is paper-thin. And your jacket is fraying at the end of the sleeve."

Orbst raised an arm to examine the unwinding threads.

"Your practice or whatever has seen better days, I take it?"

"I don't have a clinical practice," Orbst reminded him. "And my forensic psychology business is doing fine, thank you."

"You don't get paid much for those articles you write, do you?"

"I get royalties."

"You can't live on the royalties."

"Well, no. Not exclusively."

"In fact, you make the majority of your income from testifying, isn't that true?"

"I am paid for my time." The standard answer. Time, not the opinion. Really.

"In fact," Brunelle pressed, "you'll say whatever you're paid to say, isn't that right?"

Brunelle knew it was too soon to ask that question. Orbst had heard it a thousand times and would knock it down easily. But then Orbst would think he'd won the exchange and relax.

"Of course not. I am a professional and have a reputation to maintain. A psychologist who would just say anything would soon lose all credibility."

Brunelle nodded, hand to his chin. "Good point, good point. I mean, you want to be the kind of witness who gets hired again and again, right?"

"Consulted, not hired," Orbst corrected. "And yes, exactly."

"You haven't been testifying in criminal cases very long, have you?"

Brunelle saw Orbst tense up at the question. He hoped the jury noticed it too.

"I've testified in criminal cases for some time now," Orbst answered coldly.

"But before that," Brunelle continued, "you mostly testified in civil cases, isn't that right? Lawsuits, malpractice, divorce and child custody? Stuff like that?"

Orbst nodded carefully. "Yes, stuff like that."

"And in that kind of a setting, you might get hired by either side to testify, correct? Husband or wife? Patient or hospital?"

"Correct."

"And then you screwed up, didn't you?"

Orbst's face hardened. "I didn't screw up. I testified honestly and the judge made a decision."

Brunelle smiled. Yamata was right. Orbst still wasn't over it. "You testified that a man was mentally fit to raise his children, then he drowned his daughter in the bath tub."

"I testified honestly and accurately about a forensic psychological opinion. The court made a decision based on all of the evidence in the case, not just my testimony. That little girl's death is not on my head."

The force of his denial belied it.

"And after that," Brunelle went on, "no one in the civil law community wanted to hire you again, isn't that right?"

"That is not right. I continued to testify in child custody cases and all types of civil litigation."

"But word got out, and the phone stopped ringing and you needed to expand into criminal work to pay the bills?"

"I chose to expand into criminal work."

Brunelle nodded again. "But criminal work is different, isn't it? The prosecution, we have our own psychologists, right? The doctors at Western State Hospital, right? And they're paid a salary. We don't have to pay them anything. So the State never would retain a private psychologist like you, isn't that right?"

"I wouldn't say never," Orbst replied. "It does happen."

Brunelle smiled. "But you'd agree that it's very rare."