Michael Connelly - The Reversal

“Okay,” Royce said, “but you are saying that at the first two scenes the emotions were high, correct?”

I stood up, just to give Royce a dose of his own medicine.

“Objection. Asked and answered already, Your Honor.”

“Sustained.”

Royce was undaunted.

“Then how did these emotions display themselves?” he asked.

“Well, we talked. Art Donovan told me to keep professional detachment. He said we had to do our best work because this had been just a little girl.”

“What about detectives Kloster and Steiner?”

“They said the same thing. That we couldn’t leave any stone unturned, that we had to do it for Melissa.”

“He called the victim by her name?”

“Yes, I remember that.”

“How angry and upset would you say Detective Kloster was?”

I stood and objected.

“Assumes facts not in evidence or testimony.”

The judge sustained it and told Royce to move on.

“Ms. Gordon, can you refer to the crime scene attendance logs still in front of you and tell us if the arrival and departure of law enforcement personnel is kept by time?”

“Yes, it is. There are arrival and departure times listed after each name.”

“You have previously stated that detectives Kloster and Steiner were the only two investigators besides yourself and your supervisor to appear at all three scenes.”

“Yes, they were the lead investigators on the case.”

“Did they arrive at each of the scenes before you and Mr. Donovan?”

It took Gordon a moment to confirm the information on the lists.

“Yes, they did.”

“So they would have had access to the victim’s body before you ever arrived at the El Rey Theatre, correct?”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘access’ but, yes, they were on scene first.”

“And so they would have also had access to the tow truck before you got there and saw the three strands of hair conveniently caught in the seat crack, correct?”

I objected, saying the question required the witness to speculate on things she would not have witnessed and was argumentative because of the use of the word “conveniently.” Royce was obviously playing to the jury. The judge told Royce to rephrase the question without taking editorial license.

“The detectives would have had access to the tow truck before you got there and before you were the first to see the three strands of hair lodged in the seat crack, correct?”

Gordon took the hint from my objection and answered the way I wanted her to.

“I don’t know because I wasn’t there.”

Still, Royce had gotten his point across to the jury. He had also gotten the point of his case across to me. It was now fair to assume that the defense would put forth the theory that the police-in the person of Kloster and/or his partner, Steiner-had planted the hair evidence to secure a conviction of Jessup after he had been identified by the thirteen-year-old Sarah. Further to this, the defense would posit that Sarah’s wrongful identification of Jessup was intentional and part of the Landy family’s effort to hide the fact that Melissa had died either accidentally or intentionally at the hands of her stepfather.

It would be a tough road to take. To be successful it would take at least one person on the jury buying into what amounted to two conspiracies working independently of one another and yet in concert. But I could think of only two defense attorneys in town who could pull it off, and Royce was one of them. I had to be prepared.

“What happened after you noticed the hair on the tow truck’s seat, do you remember?” Royce asked the witness.

“I pointed it out to Art because he was doing the actual collection of evidence. I was just there to observe and gather experience.”

“Were detectives Kloster and Steiner called over to take a look?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Do you recall what if anything they did then?”

“I don’t recall them doing anything in relation to the hair evidence. It was their case and so they were notified of the evidence find and that was it.”

“Were you happy with yourself?”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“It was your first day on the job-your first case. Were you pleased with yourself after spotting the hair evidence? Were you proud?”

Gordon hesitated before answering, as if trying to figure out if the question was a trap.

“I was pleased that I had contributed, yes.”

“And did you ever wonder why you, the rookie, spotted the hair in the seat crack before your supervisor or the two lead investigators?”

Gordon hesitated again and then said no. Royce said he had no further questions. It had been an excellent cross, planting multiple seeds that could later bloom into something larger in the defense case.

I did what I could on redirect, asking Gordon to recite the names of the six uniformed police officers and two other detectives who were listed as arriving ahead of Kloster and Steiner on the crime scene attendance log kept at the location where Melissa Landy’s body was found.

“So, hypothetically, if Detective Kloster or Steiner had wanted to take hair from the victim to plant elsewhere, they would have had to do it under the noses of eight other officers or enlist them in allowing them to do it. Is that correct?”

“Yes, it would seem so.”

I thanked the witness and sat down. Royce then went back to the lectern for recross.

“Also hypothetically, if Kloster or Steiner wanted to plant hair from the victim at the third crime scene, it would not have been necessary to take it directly from the victim’s head if there were other sources for it, correct?”

“I guess not if there were other sources.”

“For example, a hairbrush in the victim’s home could have provided hair to them, correct?”

“I guess so.”

“They were in the victim’s home, weren’t they?”

“Yes, that was one of the locations where they signed in.”

“Nothing further.”

Royce had nailed me and I decided not to pursue this any further. Royce would have a comeback no matter what I brought forward from the witness.

Gordon was dismissed and the judge broke for lunch. I told Bosch that he would be on the stand after the break, reading Kloster’s testimony into the record. I asked if he wanted to grab lunch together to talk about the defense’s theory but he said he couldn’t, that he had something to do.

Maggie was heading over to the hotel to have lunch with Sarah Ann Gleason, so that left me on my own.

Or so I thought.

As I headed down the center aisle to the rear door of the courtroom, an attractive woman stepped out of the back row in front of me. She smiled and stepped up to me.

“Mr. Haller, I’m Rachel Walling with the FBI.”

At first it didn’t compute but then the name caught on a memory prompt somewhere inside.

“Yes, the profiler. You distracted my investigator with your theory that Jason Jessup is a serial killer.”

“Well, I hope it was more help than distraction.”

“I guess that remains to be seen. What can I do for you, Agent Walling?”

“I was going to ask if you might have time for lunch. But since you consider me a distraction, then maybe I should just…”

“Guess what, Agent Walling. You’re in luck. I’m free. Let’s have lunch.”

I pointed to the door and we headed out.

Tuesday, April 6, 1:15 P.M .

This time it was the judge who was late returning to court. The prosecution and defense teams were seated at the appointed time and ready to go but there was no sign of Breitman. And there had been no indication from the clerk as to whether the delay was because of personal business or some sort of trial issue. Bosch got up from his seat at the railing and approached Haller, tapping him on the back.