“Did you write it after examining him?”
“Yes.”
Ami pointed at a line in the report. “Would you read this sentence to the court, please?”
Dr. Ganett saw where she was pointing and cleared his throat.
“Uh, this sentence says that an X ray of Mr. Rice’s abdomen showed metal fragments compatible with shrapnel.”
“And shrapnel is a metal fragment from a bomb or grenade that is exploded during war, is it not?”
“Well, not necessarily wartime, but from a bomb, yes.”
“Most shrapnel wounds are received during war, aren’t they?”
Dr. Ganett thought for a moment then nodded. “I would say that you would see a larger number of shrapnel wounds during a war.”
“No further questions.”
“Dr. Ganett,” Brendan Kirkpatrick said, rising from behind the prosecution table, “you used the term ‘compatible with shrapnel’ in your report, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you just say that the metal fragment was shrapnel? Why use the word ‘compatible’?”
“We have no way of knowing that the fragment is shrapnel. It is a metal fragment, it is consistent with shrapnel, but it could be something else.”
“It could be a metal fragment that penetrated Mr. Rice’s body during an explosion in this country?”
“Yes.”
“An auto accident could result in the creation of a metal fragment like the one you found in his body?”
“I suppose so.”
“Or a water heater could have exploded? That could result in the creation of a fragment like this one, couldn’t it?”
“I suppose.”
“So there’s no way of knowing where Mr. Rice received this wound, or under what circumstances, just from looking at an X ray, is there?”
“I guess not.”
“Assuming for the sake of argument that Mr. Rice did receive this wound in combat, is there any way that you can tell if it was inflicted in 1985 as opposed to the early nineteen-seventies?”
“No, I don’t think you can do that.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Relief flooded Dr. Ganett’s features when Ami said that she had no further questions and he hurried out of the courtroom.
“Any more witnesses, Mrs. Vergano?” Judge Velasco asked.
Ami stood again. “Miss Kohler calls Detective Howard Walsh.”
After Walsh took the oath, Ami established that he was the detective in charge of the Little League case.
“Detective Walsh, when Mr. Rice was arrested in connection with the incident at the Little League game, did you take his fingerprints?”
“Yes.”
“Is that routine when a person is arrested?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do with the fingerprints?”
“We ran them through AFIS, the Automated Fingerprint Identification System, to see if he had a criminal record.”
“Was AFIS able to match Mr. Rice’s prints?”
“No.”
“Mr. Kirkpatrick has entered records from Mr. Rice’s army file into evidence. Weren’t the fingerprints in the file?”
Walsh hesitated.
“Well, Detective?” Ami prodded.
“There appears to be some kind of clerical error, because his prints aren’t on record with the army.”
“Thank you, Detective.”
“No questions,” Kirkpatrick said.
“My final witness is Miss Kohler, Your Honor.”
This was the moment that Vanessa had been waiting for. It was her chance to tell the world that her father was pure evil. Yet the moment her name was called, doubts assailed her. Was everyone else right? Was the Unit a figment of Carl’s imagination? Did her father really love her?
“Miss Kohler,” Judge Velasco said. “Please come up here and be sworn.”
Vanessa steeled herself and willed herself to her feet. She was right. Her father was evil. She threw her shoulders back and walked to the witness box, convinced that justice would be done today.
Before Judge Velasco would allow Ami to examine her client, he reviewed the problems that Ami’s dual representation of her and Carl Rice created and gave her the same warning about incriminating herself that he had given Rice. When Vanessa told him that she wanted to testify, the judge told Ami to continue.
“Miss Kohler,” Ami asked after a few preliminary questions, “in 1985 in Washington, D.C., did Carl Rice tell you about his involvement in a secret military unit that your father was running out of the AIDC?”
“Yes.”
“After this conversation, did you try to find proof that the Unit existed?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“My father had a safe in his office in our house in California. He didn’t know that I knew the combination. Inside were the army records of ten men, including Carl’s records.”
“What did you do with the records?”
“I was working for Congressman Eric Glass, who was on the House committee that oversees the intelligence community. I knew that he was at his summer home at Lost Lake in Northern California. I took the records to him. I wanted him to look into what these men had been doing during and after Vietnam.”
“What happened to the records?”
“I gave them to Eric, and he agreed to have someone on his staff look into them. It was late. Eric let me use one of the guest rooms. A noise woke me up in the middle of the night. I went downstairs.”
Vanessa paused. Even after all these years and numerous retellings, the horror of what she had seen was still fresh.
“Do you want some water or a brief recess?” Ami asked.
“No. I’m okay.” Vanessa coughed, then took a deep breath. “Eric was tied to a chair. He…There was blood all over. Carl was standing over him with a knife. He’d killed the congressman, and he took the records.”
“Let’s move on to the events at the county hospital. Why did you rescue Mr. Rice from the security ward?”
“Objection,” Kirkpatrick said. “This was not a rescue. Miss Kohler aided and abetted an escape from custody.”
“That’s to be decided by Your Honor,” Ami responded. “Our position is that Miss Kohler’s bail should be lowered because Mr. Rice was in danger and she rescued him. We believe that Miss Kohler is not guilty of any crime if Mr. Rice’s life was in danger if he stayed in the hospital.”
“Objection overruled, Mr. Kirkpatrick. Mrs. Vergano is entitled to her theory. Whether I accept her theory is another matter entirely.”
“You may answer my question,” Ami said.
“My father thought that he’d gotten rid of the evidence that could prove that the Unit existed. With Carl alive, he faced the possibility that his criminal activities would be exposed. And even if there wasn’t enough proof for a criminal conviction, what Carl knows could derail his presidential bid. I knew my father would go to any lengths to get rid of Carl, so I broke him out of jail.”
