Primal Fear

  It could be called Celebrity Courtroom, this rematch between Assistant D.A. Jane Venable, a lady with more scalps on her belt than any other prosecutor in history, and the jugular wunderkind of the circuits, Martin Vail, who was saddled with what was considered an open-and-shut case as penance for taking the city, county and state for seven mil plus recently in the Joe Pinero case.

  The last time these two faced each other across the banq was as main-event gladiators in the infamous Rodriguez narcotics case a few years back. Vail waltzed away with the roses that time, thus there is vengeance in the air and it emanates from the D.A.’s office.

  The first day delivered all it promised: verbal clashes between Venable and Vail, several testy admonishments from Judge Hangin’ Harry Shoat, photographs that would start a feeding frenzy at a vampire convention and some hard infighting by Vail.

  Venable promises quick, biblical-style justice. “Thank God the Supreme Court has given us back the electric chair in time for Aaron Stampler” is her best quote to date.

  Vail, as is his custom, has two words to say: “No comment.” He saves it all for the courtroom and Monday he was looking pretty good. Venable’s open-and-shut case began to look a little more open than we were led to expect.

  Venable, decked out in a gray flannel double-breasted suit over a black turtleneck, her blazing red hair pulled back in a tight bun, her designer spectacles perched on the end of her nose, made it clear in her opening remarks that blood red was the color of the day, characterizing the defendant as a ruthless, jealous, vengeful boy-killer who literally butchered the man who had been his guardian angel and mentor for two years.

  “Seventy-seven times he struck while the Saint of Lakeview Drive tried to defend himself,” she declared. “The archbishop’s hands were pierced and punctured as he tried to ward off that deadly carving knife. Twelve fatal wounds were struck. The bishop was virtually decapitated. Aaron Stampler, who learned his skill with a knife working as an apprentice in a funeral home, showed no mercy as he destroyed and mutilated his benefactor…”

  Strong stuff. A straightforward, max-out pitch followed later by shocking color photographs that backed up her verbal horror story.

  Vail, dressed haphazardly as usual, promised surprises. His contention: that Stampler went into a psychological blackout, clinically known as a fugue state, and remembers nothing until police found him cowering in a confessional covered with blood and still holding the murder weapon. There have already been intimations that a third person was in the bishop’s bedroom when he was murdered.

  There were several paragraphs devoted to the testimonies of Bascott and Danielson, and some snide lines about the overkill of the photographs. The closing paragraphs of the story put her teeth on edge.

  Undaunted, Vail challenged the credibility of the state’s psychiatric evaluation and raised a question: Was the team’s analysis incomplete or possibly misdirected? Stampler’s blackout story, until now a media joke, became not only credible but, by Bascott’s own admission, a fairly common occurrence. Is it possible that Stampler did, in fact, suffer a blackout? Vail has challenged and changed the perception that it was a feeble defense.

  Then too, there was Vail’s testy cross-examination of Bill Danielson, which has raised a lot of questions. The prosecution cannot prove Stampler was alone in the room, or that he actually made any or all of the stab wounds, or which wound was the actual fatal stab, or whether more than one person took part in the attack.

  There is no question that the physical and circumstantial evidence still weighs heavily in Venable’s favor. But if Vail’s first day in court is any indication, this trial is far from being over. Round two at 9 A.M. Tuesday.

  Venable slammed down the paper after reading the article twice. Connerman, the ultimate male chauvinist, rooting for Vail, as usual. She could read between the lines. She paced the room, listening to a tape recording of the testimony. She stopped at one point and replayed the tape.

  It was at the series of questions regarding symbols. Vail went into it and then suddenly abandoned the line of questions. Why? Was he fishing to find out what the numbers meant? Did he get on shaky ground and change direction? Something had warned him off. Was it one of Bascott’s answers?

  Suddenly it had become obvious that Vail was avoiding the symbols on the back of the victim’s head. He was trying to get information into the record without directly dealing with it. After having cracked the door with Bascott, he seemed to be dancing around the question. Did he know what the messages meant? And if so, why was he avoiding dealing with it directly? It occurred to her that Vail might be trying, obliquely, to introduce testimony concerning the similar symbols on the heads of Billy Jordan and Peter Holloway.

  That was it! The son of a bitch was trying to connect Rushman to the two altar boys without specifically bringing up what the messages meant. In so doing, he could then introduce the possibility that Rushman and the altar boys were killed by the same person and then show that there was a strong probability that the two boys were killed after Rushman’s murder, when Stampler was already in custody. Also, if he opened that door wide enough, he might force her into introducing the altar boy tape—which would definitely work to her disadvantage. At the same time, it would then allow him to introduce what the jury might consider a sympathetic motive for the killing.

  Not a chance, she thought. No way.

  On the other hand, if she could prove Stampler knew what the messages meant, it would be another proof of his guilt and possibly maneuver him into a courtroom admission that he killed all three of the victims.

  What a coup, she thought. She could turn the tables on Vail, nail the little bastard for Rushman’s killing, and at the same time raise the issue of multiple murders in the mind of the jury. The jury would vote to burn him for sure and Shoat would love it.

  But it was a dangerous maneuver. She would have to think more about that.

  Otherwise, she had to admit Vail had done well today. He had set out to lower Bascott’s credibility and he had. He had raised a question in the minds of the jury: Could there be something Bascott and his team overlooked?

  If there was, Vail would counter with Arrington’s testimony. Venable would be ready for her.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  For the next three days, Jane Venable led a parade of innocuous witnesses past the jury. Priests, nuns, kids from Savior House, the most powerful businessmen in the city and socialites who headed the major charities all testified that Rushman was a prince among men and was indeed the Saint of Lakeview Drive. Vail responded with a few perfunctory questions and an occasional objection. The character witnesses for the victim were irrelevant—everyone on the jury knew who Rushman was—but Vail had no intention of attacking the credibility of either the Church or the business community. Besides, the jury appeared bored by the procession of “important people”; even Shoat began to relax as the tension in the courtroom eased.

  Then Venable called her final witness.

  “The state calls Abel Stenner to the stand.”

  Vail watched Lieutenant Abel Stenner walk to the witness chair and raise his hand as he took the oath. Stenner, dressed in a dark blue suit with a wine tie, looked more like a broker than a cop, except for those icy eyes behind wire-rim glasses and his aloof, almost patronizing demeanor. He would make a good witness if he did not antagonize the jury with that remote manner. By this time, most of the testimony had been given and Stenner would be reduced to a corroborating witness—the cleanup man. He would put it all in perspective with that cold and wily air of his. A dangerous witness, perhaps the most dangerous of all. Vail leaned his chin in the palm of his hand and listened as Venable ran through the obligatory qualification questions, emphasizing Stenner’s four citations for meritorious service and twenty-three years on the force, ten as a homicide detective.

  Stenner described his reaction on first entering the crime scene, his subsequent arrest of Aaron Stampler, and the care which was taken to, as he put it, “
preserve the integrity of the homicide area.” He was straightforward and blunt and sounded as formal as a police report. Since the witnesses were not permitted in the courtroom, he was not aware of Vail’s cross-examination of Danielson and Bascott. When he gave his “appraisal” of what happened it was basically the same story Danielson had told.

  “I object to the lieutenant’s so-called appraisal, Your Honor,” Vail said, jumping up and feigning anger. “For the same reason I objected to Mr. Danielson’s description of the events. It’s pure conjecture.”

  “And we’ve already gone through this, Mr. Vail,” Shoat said curtly. “These people are qualified as expert witnesses and as such their viewpoint is valid. The jury is intelligent enough to put the proper weight on their remarks. You are overruled.”

  “I suppose it would be redundant to except,” Vail said, sitting back down.

  “What is your conclusion regarding the defendant’s claim that he saw someone else attack the bishop, blacked out, and does not remember anything after that?” Venable asked.

  “I believe the evidence points to a single assailant who premeditated the murder, carried it out, and got caught.”

  “Would that be Mr. Stampler?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Venable said. She turned to Vail. “Your witness,” she said.

  Vail stood up slowly, buttoned his jacket and approached the witness stand with his trusty yellow legal pad in hand. He leaned on the railing separating the witness box from the courtroom and smiled.

  “Lieutenant,” Vail said softly, “would it be fair to say that your main job is gathering evidence in homicide cases which is then turned over to the D.A. for prosecution?”

  “That’s part of it.”

  “What else?”

  “Well, there’s that somewhat ambiguous area called deduction—or detection, if you will,” Stenner said. His voice, always with an edge to it, made him sound on the verge of anger.

  “And that is taking all the evidence and putting it together, then making an educated guess about what it all means, right?”

  “Objection to counselor’s use of the word ‘guess,’ Your Honor,” Venable said.

  “I qualified it with the word ‘educated,’” Vail said. “If there’s a better way to describe it, I’m open to it.”

  Shoat looked down at Stenner and smiled. “Would you object, sir, if the counselor substituted the word ‘appraisal’ for ‘guess’?”

  Stenner shook his head.

  “Excellent choice, Your Honor, thank you,” Venable said.

  “Lieutenant, if you are provided with information which is detrimental to a case you’re developing, how do you deal with it?”

  “The same as any other piece of evidence.”

  “In other words, you are not selective about the information you provide to the district attorney?”

  “Of course not.”

  “So if you arrest someone and he has an alibi, do you check it out or do you expect him to provide the proof?”

  “We would check it out.”

  “That’s part of the investigative process, right?”

  “Yes it is.”

  “Lieutenant, when did you first see Aaron Stampler?”

  “He was cowering in a confessional at the cathedral.”

  “This was when he was arrested?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did he say anything?”

  “He said, ‘Didn’t do it, Mama. Mama, didn’t do it.’”

  “Did he appear frightened?”

  “Yes, he was terrified.”

  “And did you read him his rights at that time?”

  “Yes I did.”

  “Now Lieutenant, did you conduct three interrogations with the defendant—”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” Venable interjected. “That’s inadmissable. Mr. Vail had it excluded himself!”

  “I’m not introducing testimony concerning the content of the interrogations, Judge, just that they occurred.”

  “See that you don’t,” Shoat snapped.

  “Prior to your first interrogation, in the car on the way to the station, did you have a conversation with Mr. Stampler?”

  “We chatted,” Stenner answered. “I asked him the usual. What his name was, where he lived, worked, that kind of thing.”

  “In fact, didn’t you ask Aaron, and I use your exact words, ‘Why did you kill the archbishop, what did he ever do to you?’”

  “I object, Your Honor. Counselor’s trying to get parts of the interrogation into the record without admitting the entire Q and A.”

  “On the contrary, I am asking the lieutenant about what he himself characterized as a chat he had with the defendant on the way to the police station. I’m not referring to the three taped interviews which have been excluded from testimony.”

  “Objection overruled.”

  “How about it, Lieutenant, did you ask Stampler that question?”

  “Something to that effect.”

  “Isn’t that kind of a ‘When did you stop beating your wife?’ question? The fact is, you assumed he was guilty, did you not?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “How did he answer the question?”

  “He said he didn’t remember what happened.”

  “In fact, didn’t he say he blacked out?”

  “Yes, he used those words.”

  “And did he also say there was someone else in the room besides the bishop?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he tell you who it was?”

  “No. He just said he was afraid of him.”

  “Just like that?”

  “I don’t understand …”

  “Let me suggest what was said. He refused to tell you who else was in the room. You said, ‘Are you afraid to?’ and he answered, ‘Yes.’ Is that about the way it went?”

  “I guess so. Like I said, it was two months ago.”

  “My reason … why I bring this up, Lieutenant, is that I think you misinterpreted what the defendant meant. He did not say he was afraid of the other person, he said he was afraid to tell you. He was exercising his Miranda rights, which you had just given him.”

  “What’s the point, Counselor?” Shoat said.

  “The point is, I believe Lieutenant Stenner misinterpreted the remark. And since the lieutenant interprets the comments of witnesses in preparing the appraisal to the D.A., which is the evidence for the prosecution, and if his appraisal is based on a misinterpretation of remarks made by witnesses, I suggest that this is a perfect example of the fallacy in the appraisal and therefore it is fair game for challenge.”

  Shoat seemed confused by the explanation. “Are you objecting to something here?” he asked.

  “Your Honor,” Vail said, “I just want to make sure that the line is clear here and that this so-called appraisal is not carved in stone and that we are not confusing fact with faulty guesswork.”

  “Your Honor, please. Counselor has already been admonished for using the term ‘guesswork’ …”

  “Yes, yes, Miss Venable, I’m ahead of you on this. Mr. Vail, I think we all agreed that the word ‘appraisal’ is better suited here.”

  “I didn’t agree with it.”

  “Noted!” Shoat blurted. “Now get on with it.”

  “Okay, but if it please the court, I want to make sure the jury understands that when Lieutenant Stenner makes a statement such as saying Aaron said he was afraid of the other person in the room, that is not true. It is a supposition and an erroneous one and the record needs to show that.”

  “Who says so?” Venable demanded.

  “Your own witness. Page twelve of the interview submitted by Dr. Bascott that was taken March third by Dr. Ciaffo:

  “Ciaffo: And you say you were afraid of this other person in the room.

  “Stampler. No, ma’am.

  “Ciaffo: I’m sorry, what did you mean?

  “Stampler: I don’t want to say any more about it.

&
nbsp; “Now I contend that Stampler never said he was afraid of the other person in the room. He didn’t want to talk any more about it. It supports my earlier contention that this is not a scientific evaluation, it includes human error and should be regarded lightly by the jury.”

  “Mr. Vail, I will instruct the jury, if you don’t mind. You are out of order. Save your remarks for summation and get back on track.”

  Vail walked back to his desk, picked up a file folder, leafed through it for a minute, then turned and interrogated Stenner from across the room.

  “Lieutenant, did Aaron Stampler tell you he blacked out and didn’t remember anything until he was outside, running away?”

  “Or words to that effect.”

  “And what did you think when he told you that?”

  “I thought it was a pretty feeble excuse for murder.”

  “You didn’t believe him?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Are you familiar with the medical term ‘fugue state’ or hysterical amnesia?”

  “Yes, I discussed it with Dr. Bascott.”

  “As a matter of fact, you don’t believe in the fugue theory, do you, Lieutenant Stenner?”

  “I have no firm opinion.”

  “It is a scientific fact, Lieutenant.”

  “As I said, I have no firm opinion.”

  “Do you believe that two plus two equals four?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you believe the earth revolves around the sun?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you a Christian, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go to church every Sunday?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you believe in the Resurrection?”

  “Yes I do.”

  “Is the Resurrection a matter of fact or a theory?”