'You've been a police officer how long, Detective?' she asked.
'Twenty-seven years.'
'And in your experience, how many times did you fail to examine the clothes of a murder suspect?'
'I can't examine someone's clothes without a warrant,' Bolinger said craftily.
'But, Detective, you searched Mr. Sales's home and his vehicle, isn't that true?'
'Yes.'
'Because he let you. He signed a consent waiver, isn't that true, too?'
'Yes.'
'But you never asked to examine his clothes, isn't that right?'
'Correct.'
'And you never took nail clippings from Mr. Sales, isn't that true as well?'
'Yes.'
'Because you made a decision that day that Mr. Sales wasn't the killer, isn't that right, Sergeant Bolinger?'
'Yes,' he said defiantly. 'I had a gut feeling that he wasn't the killer.'
'So, acting on that gut feeling, you neglected your duty as an investigating officer, didn't you?'
'I never neglected my duty,' Bolinger growled.
'Isn't your duty to be thorough?'
'Yes.'
'But you made a final judgment on who was innocent and who was guilty, didn't you?'
'I guess I did,' Bolinger said, again defiant.
'But isn't your job to collect the evidence, Detective?'
'Yes, that's my job.'
'In fact, it is the jury's job to interpret the evidence, isn't it?'
'Yes.'
'Yes, it is. And the jury doesn't know if Mr. Sales had blood underneath his fingernails, do they?'
'No.'
'And the jury doesn't know if there were traces of blood on Mr. Sales's clothes, do they?'
'No.'
'No, they don't because you didn't do your job!' Casey roared. 'You made yourself the jury, didn't you, Detective?'
'No, that's ridiculous.'
'What's ridiculous,' Casey said, at a boil, 'is that you made a decision not to gather all the evidence from your best suspect at the time, and now I have to live with that, my client has to live with that, and this jury has to live with that!'
'Objection, Your Honor,' Hopewood complained. 'Counsel is simply badgering the witness.'
'Sustained,' Rawlins said. 'Are those all the questions you have for the witness, Ms. Jordan?'
Casey didn't answer. She went back to her table and her notes. She wanted the jury to absorb what she'd just done. She wanted them to consider the detective figuratively lying on the floor, gasping for air, before she stepped on his neck. She couldn't help the surge of pride she felt when Lipton looked at her with admiration. He nearly smiled.
'I'm sorry, Your Honor,' she said, turning back suddenly. 'I have a few more questions for the detective.'
'Then go on,' Rawlins told her.
Casey approached the jury and saw that they were right there with her, following her every move. When she had joined them in front of their box, she smiled grimly at them before turning back toward Bolinger. In a clear voice she said, 'We've heard the evidence you have against Professor Lipton, Sergeant. But we haven't heard about the evidence you don't have. I'd like to ask you about that…'
Bolinger glared at her with a malicious frown.
'You don't have any of my client's fingerprints at the scene of the crime, do you, Detective?'
'No.'
'And you don't have the weapon used to commit the crime against Miss Sales, with my client's fingerprints on it, do you?'
'No, we don't,' Bolinger said stoically.
'You haven't even found the weapon, have you?'
'No.'
'In fact, you don't have any physical evidence linking my client to the scene of the crime, do you?'
'He was there,' Bolinger said triumphantly. 'He hit that woman's car when he was racing to get away.'
'Oh, he was there,' Casey said, moving toward the witness now. 'That's true. He went there for a consensual tryst, saw the girl's body, and fled in an extremely disturbed state of mind. But what I'm saying is, you don't know for a fact if he was inside that living room where the crime was committed, do you?'
Bolinger hesitated, looked at Rawlins, then said, 'No, not for a fact.'
'Because there wasn't one shred of physical evidence to prove that he was in there, isn't that true?'
'He didn't leave anything in the living room,' Bolinger cunningly replied, glancing furtively at Rawlins to see if he had incurred any more wrath.
'In fact, you don't even have a motive, do you, Detective?' Casey continued without pause. 'You never, in everything you told us today, told the jury why Professor Lipton would want to kill Miss Sales, did you?'
'No, but I don't always know the motive of people's crimes,' he said.
'But in your experience as a policeman, isn't it true that most people commit crimes for a reason?'
'Sometimes, I guess mostly they do, yes.'
'Robbers rob for the money, don't they?'
'Yes.'
'Yes, and most people who are killed are killed for a reason, like jealousy or revenge or unrequited love, isn't that true?'
'Yes, I suppose.'
'But none of those applies to Professor Lipton,' Casey said incredulously. 'He had no reason to harm Miss Sales in any way, did he?'
'I don't know.'
'Well, you haven't been able to find any reason in your year-long investigation of this case, have you?'
'No,' Bolinger said defiantly.
'Detective, I'm sorry, but you just told us you have no fingerprints, no weapon, and no other solid evidence linking my client to the exact scene of the crime. You haven't given us any explanation as to why my client would have committed the crime. And, by your own admission, we know you conducted a sloppy, erroneous investigation, allowing potentially vital information to go uncollected because in your judgment, Mr. Sales wasn't the killer. With that set of facts, can you tell me what the hell we're even doing here?'
'Objection!' Hopewood roared.
'Sustained!' Rawlins said with a rap of his gavel.
'I have nothing more for this man, Your Honor,' Casey said with disgust.
Rawlins called an adjournment for lunch. Casey had no appetite. Sales was next.
CHAPTER 13
Like many people Casey had seen, Donald Sales, while imposing and impressive in everyday life, was ill at ease on the witness stand. She liked it that way.
'Please tell us, Mr. Sales,' Hopewood began after laying a foundation explaining to the jury that Sales was the victim's father, 'the nature of your daughter's relationship with Professor Lipton.'
'Objection!' Casey roared, jumping to her feet. 'Calls for the witness to speculate on state of mind.'
Rawlins twisted his mouth and sighed. 'Sustained.'
'Let me rephrase the question,' Hopewood said patiently. 'Please tell us what your daughter told you about the nature of her relationship with Professor Lipton.'
'She was scared to death of him, she-'
'Objection! Hearsay, Your Honor! The witness has no idea what the actual emotional state of his daughter was.' Casey knew it was a minor technicality, but she wanted to badger Sales as much as she could within the confines of the law.
Rawlins pursed his lips but told Sales, 'Please limit your testimony to the things she said to you, Mr. Sales. Although, as a father, I'm sure you think you know how your daughter felt, it's not legally acceptable for you to speculate in that way.'
'She told me she was scared to death of him,' Sales said, staring hatefully at Casey as he did so.
'Objection! Hearsay!' Casey barked as she stood.
'Now,' Rawlins said, pointing his gavel at Casey, 'that's enough, Ms. Jordan.'
'It's hearsay, Your Honor,' she said stubbornly.
'It is allowable hearsay under the state-of-mind exception to the rule, as you damn well know, young lady!' Rawlins bawled. 'Now sit down!'
