'Please describe what you found when you performed your autopsy on Sandra Whiley.'
'I found several bruises on the left side of the jaw and above the left cheekbone. More important, there were eight cutting or chopping types of wounds on the body.
Seven of them were located on the head. The eighth was located on the top of the left hand and was consistent with a defensive wound.'
'What is a defensive wound?'
'That is a wound inflicted when the victim interposes her hand defensively between the weapon wielded by the killer and the object of the murderer's attack.'
'Please describe the head wounds.'
'Five produced skull fractures. Of these five, three were severe enough to produce injuries to the underlying brain. There was another wound which was in the region of the right eye that also produced extensive fracturing of the bones between the eyes and a considerable amount of bleeding with the blood present in the air passages as well as swallowed blood in the stomach. The remaining wounds produced a variable amount of softtissue injury or injury to the skin or muscles that did not fracture bone or involve the brain.'
'Do you have an opinion, Dr. Guisti, after looking at these injuries and conducting your investigation, as to the type of instrument that might have been used to inflict these wounds?'
do.
'What is that opinion?'
'Either an ax or a hatchet would cause the type of wounds inflicted on the deceased.'
Becky O'Shay bent down and reached into a large cardboard box containing many items, most of which were enclosed in plastic evidence bags. She rummaged around in the box until she found what she wanted.
O'Shay carried the item to the witness.
'Dr. Guisti, I hand you what has been marked as State's Exhibit 23 and I ask you if the wounds on the victim could have been inflicted with this exhibit?'
Dr. Guisti opened the plastic bag. It contained a small hatchet. He turned it around a few times, all for show since he had examined the hatchet on several occasions.
'The blows could have been inflicted by this weapon.'
'Thank you,' O'Shay said, taking the hatchet from the doctor and slowly returning it to the plastic bag while standing directly in front of the jury.
She placed the hatchet on the rail of the jury box and turned back to the witness. Several jurors had trouble moving their eyes away from the weapon.
'Dr. Guisti, do you have an opinion as to the'cause of death of Sandra Whiley?'
'Yes. I think the eventual cause of death was hemorrhaging caused by the wounds I have described.'
'In other words, Sandra Whiley bled to death through the hatchet wounds inflicted by her killer?'
'That is correct.'
'Dr. Guisti, do you have an opinion as to the direction in which the deadly hatchet blows were struck?'
'Yes, but only as to the blow to the top of the skull. I believe that blow was struck in an up-to-down direction because of the way the wound slants. As to the others, I cannot say.'
'Do you have an opinion as to whether the blow to the top of the skull was the first blow struck to the head?'
'In my opinion it was.'
O'Shay checked her notes then turned the witness over to Peter.
'Dr. Guisti, what side of the head were the wounds on.
'As I said, one was to the top of the head. It's difficult to say right or left side because the wound is midway.
One blow was to the right eye. The rest were delivered to the left side of the victim's head.'
'Thank you, Doctor. I have no further questions.'
LA The red paint on the gas tanks in front of Art's Garage was barely holding its own against the ravages of rust and wind and the old wooden garage was not doing much better. The elements had eaten away at an advertisement for Coca-Cola that covered one outer wall and the once blue garage now looked a weathered gray. Barney Pullen was bent under the hood of an old Buick when Peter entered the garage during the lunch recess.
Peter called out twice before he got Pullen's attention.
When Pullen turned around, he looked annoyed, then his features morphed into a brownnosing smile when he remembered that Peter was the one who paid him for investigating the Harmon case.
'Afternoon, Mr. Hale,' Pullen said, wiping his hands on a greasy rag.
'Good afternoon, Barney. I've had trouble reaching you, so I thought I'd drop by the garage to see how the investigation's been going.'
Barney shook his head ruefully. 'It's real slow. I've been talking to lots of people, but nobody seems to know anything helpful.'
'Who have you talked to?'
'Uh, well, I don't have my notes right here. Family, of course. I do have a lot of good information for you for the penalty phase from the mother, the father and Steve's wife. Lots of good stuff.'
Peter recalled receiving several poorly typed reports rife with misspellings that were accompanied by a bill claiming hours way out of proportion to the information Pullen had collected.
'I have the family interviews, but that's all. You have been doing more than just talking to family?'
'Uh, let's see, there's the bartender at the Ponderosa.
You have his statement, right?'
'No, I don't. What about Kevin Booth? Have you found out anything I can use there?'
'Not yet. His father split a long time ago and the mother died last year. She was an alcoholic. Got drunk and fell down the stairs.'
'Did you talk to Booth's neighbors, run a rap sheet?'
'Rap sheet's the first thing I thought of. That arrest for drugs he beat is the only thing I could find. There aren't any neighbors. Booth lives way the hell out of town.'
'What about school records, his mother's neighbors?'
'I'll get right on it.'
'You mean you haven't done that already? We talked about this two weeks ago.'
'Yeah. And I'm sorry. I really did mean to get on it, but Art's kept me hoppin' at the shop here.'
'Barney, you have to get moving on this. If you don't come up with something on Booth soon, we'll be facing a penalty phase for sure.'
'I am investigating, Mr. Hale. As soon as I'm done with this car, I'm gonna get right on it.'
'Look, Barney, you're going to have to give this case priority until it's over. Tell your brother you can't work at the shop until it's done.'
'Okay,' Pullen answered agreeably.
Peter was going to say something else, but there wasn ' t anything more to say. He was just going to have to hope that Pullen would come through for him.
Trying a death penalty case was incredibly exhausting.
While Peter was in court, he was so focused that he did not know where the day went. Most of the time, he was coasting on pure adrenaline because no person could concentrate on every word that was said for hours at a time without it. As soon as the case ended for the day, he felt instantly like someone who had gone for days without sleep.
After a fast dinner, Peter went to his new office in Steve Mancini's building and completed his preparations for the next day of trial. It was a little after eight-thirty when Peter opened the front door of his house.
The phone was ringing. He raced to it in the dark, stumbling over an ottoman and almost knocking over a floor lamp.
'Mr. Hale?' an unfamiliar voice asked.
'Yes.'
'I've been calling all night. I'm glad I caught you.'
'Who is this?'
'Don Bosco. I'm the Director of Mental Health for the county. I was a witness at the pretrial hearing.'
