Steven Womack - By Blood Written

“So noted. The witness is excused,” Forsythe instructed as Master Patrol Officer Deborah Greenwood stood up from the witness chair after describing how she had come to find the bloody clothes in a Dumpster on Charlotte Avenue.

“General Collier, call your next witness.”

“Your Honor, the state calls Detective Gary Gilley.”

Taylor raised her hand to her forehead, then lowered her head a bit and rubbed her temples. She’d hoped the judge would call a recess, but he seemed relentless. He pressed the attorneys to move ahead with each witness, and if he thought they were dawdling, he jumped right in and got them refo-cused. If they rephrased a question or tried to ask the same question more than once, Forsythe was on them like a guard dog. He kept rigid control of his courtroom and the proceedings in it, and as a result, the trial had moved forward much faster than anyone had expected.

But it was still exhausting. Taylor felt more drained than she ever had before.

Detective Gilley, wearing a blue suit and a red power tie, his white shirt starched and his hair combed back neatly, took the witness stand and was sworn in. After the preliminaries, Jane Sparks stood and walked to the podium. Her voice was high and clear, with only a trace of the aristo-cratic accent commonly seen in educated Southern women of means.

“Detective Gilley, would you tell us your current assignment with the Metro Police Department, please.”

“Yes, ma’am, I hold the rank of detective with the department and I’m currently assigned as a senior investigator with the Murder Squad.”

“How long have you been with the police department?”

“Sixteen years.”

“And how long with the Murder Squad?”

“Seven years. Before that I worked Vice for two years, was in Burglary for a year or so, and before that worked patrol.”

“Were you called to Exotica Tans on Church Street the night of February fifth of last year?”

“Yes, ma’am, I was.”

“And what function did you serve in the ensuing investigation of the two homicides?”

“I was the lead investigator.”

“So you were in charge of the investigation.”

“Yes, ma’am, reporting directly to Lieutenant Bransford.”

“Detective Gilley,” Sparks continued, “I want to draw your attention to a specific component of the investigation that occurred in the aftermath of the murders of Sarah and Allison. Did you at some point in this investigation endeavor to find the rental car that was-”

Talmadge shot up. “Objection, Your Honor, leading.”

Forsythe nodded. “Sustained. Rephrase your question, General Sparks.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Detective Gilley, in the investigation of the defendant’s whereabouts while he was in Nashville during the times established by previous testimony, were you able to ascertain what mode of transportation the defendant employed?”

Gilley cracked a faint smile on the stand. “Yes, ma’am, we were.”

“And what did you discover?”

“The defendant rented a car.”

“Were you able to determine where he rented that car?”

“Yes ma’am, he rented the car from Hertz and he picked it up at the airport rental counter.”

“And what kind of car did he rent?”

“A Lincoln Town Car.”

Sparks nodded. “Okay, Detective Gilley. In the course of your investigation, were you able to determine the whereabouts of the Lincoln Town Car rented by the defendant.”

“Yes, ma’am, we were. We requested that the Hertz people track the car down.”

“And they found it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And where was it located, Detective?”

“It was located in the rental lot at the New Orleans International Airport.”

“And what did you do then?”

“We requested that the Jefferson Parish Sheriff’s Department impound the vehicle, which they did, and then they turned it over to the New Orleans Police Department, who held it for us until we could go down there and retrieve it.”

“Did you ask the New Orleans Police Department to examine the car?”

“Well,” Gilley hesitated. “We didn’t exactly ask them to, but they gave the car a cursory examination anyway.”

“And what were their findings?”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Talmadge said, standing up.

“Hearsay and calls for a conclusion.”

Forsythe thought for a moment. “I’m going to allow some latitude on this one, Counselor. Overruled.”

Talmadge sat back down.

“Answer the question,” Forsythe ordered.

“In the trunk of the car, forensic examiners found what they believed to be a stain of some kind. They took a Hemident swab, which showed positive.”

“And tell us, please, what a Hemident swab is.”

“A Hemident swab is a simple test. It’s a preliminary test for the presence of blood.”

“In your expert opinion as a senior homicide investigator, is this a reliable test?”

Gilley nodded. “Yes, ma’am, for its limited purposes. It’s a test designed to be used in the field in an on-site initial investigation. But it only detects the presence of blood. It doesn’t tell you anything else. It doesn’t even differentiate between human and animal blood.”

“So the Hemident test doesn’t type or identify blood.”

“That’s correct. But it did establish that blood of some kind was present in the trunk of the car.”

“Subsequent to this test, what did you do?”

Gilley shifted his weight from one side of the chair to the other. “We requested that the New Orleans Police Department seal and impound the car, and the next day I went down to New Orleans and took it into my possession.”

“You drove the car back?”

“Oh no, ma’am,” Gilley said. “Not at all. I had it trailered back.”

“And what happened after you got the car back to Nashville?”

“We turned it over to our forensic examiners, who performed a standard, routine investigation of the car. They found no other evidence other than the stain in the trunk, which again proved conclusively to be blood. We turned the sample over to the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation for further testing.”

“And how did you do that, Detective Gilley?”

“We literally cut the piece of carpet with the stain on it out of the car, sealed it in an evidence bag, and forwarded it to TBI.”

“Thank you, Detective Gilley. No further questions at this time.”

Taylor watched as Talmadge stood quickly and walked to the podium, with his pressed Armani suit, his hundred-dollar haircut, and his crisp silk shirt, the very picture of a rich, successful lawyer. Everything within her was still, but in the back of her mind, a bubble was forming. Michael must have known that this testimony would be coming, but he hadn’t told her, hadn’t said a word to her about it. But Taylor knew, and she recognized this for exactly what it was-the first real evidence that could tie Michael to the murder scene.

“Detective Gilley, how much time elapsed between the time the defendant rented that car and the time it was discovered in the lot of the New Orleans airport?”

“Just a day or two short of seven weeks,” Gilley replied.

“And how many people had rented that car in the seven weeks that elapsed before the car was discovered.”

“According to the rental car company’s records,” Gilley answered, “forty-two people.”

Talmadge shifted at the podium and turned toward the jury. “So forty-two people rented this car between the time Mr. Schiftmann drove it in Nashville and the time you found it.” Gilley nodded. “That’s correct.”?

“How many people drove the car, Detective Gilley?”?

Gilley’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t know the answer to that. ?