Richard Patterson - Conviction

And a total fiction, Terri thought.

"As well as," Kuhl continued, "evincing a fully functional awareness of the need to hide Thuy Sen's body, and the consequences of getting caught."

Frozen, the Sen family watched and listened, a triptych of grief and loss, pleading with their eyes for Gardner Bond to exact a final measure of justice. "Payton and Rennell Price," Kuhl concluded, "both knew what they had done. That's why they recruited Eddie Fleet. That's why Rennell Price dumped that child's corpse. And that's why—with utter rationality—Rennell denied his own involvement. These are not the acts of a man too dull to cope."

"Thank you," Pell said briskly. "That's all I've got for you."

TWELVE

BASED ON HER EXPERIENCE, TERRI TENDED TO DIVIDE EXPERT witnesses into three categories—professionals, who formed their opinions with care; ideologues, who testified according to their beliefs about the death penalty; and whores, who said anything for money. She saw Davis Kuhl as a curious combination—committed enough to be an ideologue, flexible enough in his advocacy to qualify as a whore. Her challenge was to reveal both tendencies so plainly that Bond could not dismiss them.

Rising to cross-examine, she asked without preface, "Do you have your own practice, Dr. Kuhl?"

Kuhl summoned a look of sincere interest. "If you're asking whether I see patients privately, the answer is no."

"In other words, every person you examine is either a defendant or a prisoner."

"Yes."

Terri rested a hand on the defense table. "Have you ever testified on behalf of a defendant, or a prisoner?"

"No."

"Of the over five hundred prisoners on death row at San Quentin Prison, how many have you met—either during the original trial or through a habeas corpus proceeding?"

Kuhl steepled his fingers. "I'd say between fifty and sixty."

"In what context?"

"Primarily to determine whether they were legally insane, or mentally retarded."

"And, in your opinion, how many of those you examined for insanity were, in fact, insane?"

"None."

"How many instances of mental retardation did you find?"

"None."

Still not moving, Terri smiled. "So finding Rennell Price retarded would have spoiled an otherwise perfect record?"

At the prosecution table, Larry Pell stirred, seeming to search for an objection. Kuhl glanced toward him, then answered. "That's not how I view it, Ms. Paget. In the case of Rennell Price, I could not, as a forensic psychologist, conclude that he was mentally retarded."

"As a 'forensic psychologist,' do you deal with any potentially retarded people outside the legal system?"

"No."

Terri cocked her head. "What is the professionally accepted measure for an average IQ?"

Kuhl began rubbing his fingertips together. "One hundred is the usual measure."

"Are you aware that the average IQ among death row inmates at San Quentin falls in the mid-eighties?"

Kuhl paused. "I've read that. I can't verify it."

"Really? So you have no opinion as to whether the average IQ on death row is different from that of the population as a whole?"

Kuhl placed his steepled fingers to his chin. "It may well be."

"But, presumably, you've never met a single death row inmate you'd consider to be mentally retarded?"

"Not in the cases where I've been asked to evaluate that question."

"How many of those cases have you had?"

"Roughly twenty."

Terri flashed a grin. "I guess the A.G.'s Office gives you the quick learners." Among the onlookers, someone laughed. Before Bond, plainly annoyed, could crack his gavel, Terri asked, "Outside testifying as an expert witness, what work have you done in the area of mental retardation?"

"Professional reading. Quite extensive, in fact."

"Have you personally performed any research or written any articles?"

"No."

Terri rested her hands on her hips. "In short, Dr. Kuhl, your entire professional experience with mental retardation lies in finding roughly twenty death row inmates not retarded."

Kuhl shifted his lean frame. "After performing an examination to establish the proper basis for my opinion."

"To 'establish a proper basis' for your opinion that Rennell Price is not retarded, how much time did you spend with him?"

"About two hours."

" 'Hours,' did you say? Not 'days'?"

"I said hours." A first trace of exasperation entered Kuhl's voice. "In a case like this, one doesn't have days. And if we tested Rennell Price for days on end, you'd complain we were overtaxing him."

Terri ignored this. "Two hours," she repeated. "How many hours did it take you to form your professional opinion?"

Kuhl's restless fingers rubbed together more rapidly. "Approximately nine."

"How did you spend the extra seven hours?"

"Reading, mostly: Eddie Fleet's trial testimony, and Payton Price's deposition. Also, I interpreted Rennell's test scores."

Terri gazed at him with curiosity. "Did you interview anyone who knew Rennell?"

Kuhl rested his hands in his lap. "The prison guard I mentioned."

"The one who reported that he saw Rennell 'reading' a copy of Sports Illustrated?"

"Yes."

"According to the school records you reviewed, what was Rennell's reading level?"

"In the seventh grade, I believe they estimated it to be roughly at the third-grade level—"

"After which," Terri cut in, "didn't his teacher recommend remedial education—specifically to help him read?"

"I believe so."

"Did he ever receive any?"

Though Terri's voice had never changed, Kuhl had begun regarding her with wary eyes, which, even more frequently, darted toward Larry Pell. "There's no record of that."

"Did your testing give you any reason to believe that Rennell Price was able to read and comprehend the contents of Sports Illustrated?"

Kuhl frowned. "Certainly, at that reading level, Rennell could pick out words."

"Did you," Terri inquired mildly, "at least ask the guard if the magazine was right side up?"

"Objection," Pell called out. "The tone and substance of the question are sheer harassment."

Before Bond could issue the reprimand his expression told her was coming, Terri said respectfully, "I'll withdraw the question, Your Honor, and make my point another way." Turning back to Kuhl, she asked, "Do you know where Rennell got the magazine?"

"No."

"According to Rennell, the guard gave it to him. In all of his time on death row, is there any record of Rennell ordering books from the prison library?"

"I don't know."

"For the record, Dr. Kuhl, there is none. So why did you offer this vignette about Sports Illustrated as evidence that Rennell Price is not retarded?"

Kuhl shook his head. "It was ancillary—"

"It was careless," Terri snapped. "So you're not suggesting to the Court that Rennell's close encounter with Sports Illustrated in any way bears on whether this Court should uphold his death sentence."

"Of course not."

"Good." Terri's voice was cool now. "You also mentioned that the evidence of Rennell Price's abuse rests 'almost entirely' on Payton's deposition. Do you remember the passage about Vernon Price forcing Rennell to sit naked on a space heater?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any information regarding the accuracy of this account?"

"No."

"Then you're not aware that the records of the physical exam given Rennell upon his arrival at San Quentin revealed symmetrical burn marks on his buttocks?"

"I am not."

Terri folded her arms. "Did Mr. Pell ask you to form any opinions regarding whether Rennell was abused, or concerning the degree of his reliance on Payton?"

"No."

"So your observation that there was no real evidence of abuse outside of Payton's testimony was just a bonus you decided to throw in?"