For those reasons, I decided I wouldn't object to testimony relating to
Andrea Martin's arrest for criminal trespass at the Lloyd Center Mall,
although it was blatantly inadmissible. It was better to let Lisa
present that kind of innocuous evidence and hope the impact of her
opening statement wore off before the sexy stuff started. Plus, I
might have a better chance of getting Lesh to exclude the damaging
evidence if I didn't throw a fit over this chippy stuff.
A twenty-minute recess wasn't much, but at least I could update my
investigators so they could start working on it while I was in trial.
I almost knocked Dan Manning on his ass as I was rushing out of the
courtroom. He looked like a high school kid who just won a swimming
pool full of beer and a squadron of cheerleaders to share it with. I
could see his willingness to be sucked into Lopez's defense. It was,
after all, a great story. But I didn't have time to set him straight
and I suspected it wouldn't work anyway. So instead I almost knocked
him on his ass.
To save valuable time, I pulled out my cell phone rather than fight the
courthouse elevators to get back to my office.
My first call was to Alice Gernstein, the paralegal in our major crimes
unit. I gave her a quick rundown of what was going on and asked her to
pull the files from the Landry trial from archives and put them on my
chair and to order the trial transcripts. As it turned out, she had
already pulled the stuff for O'Donnell. He had prosecuted Landry and
Taylor and was now part of the investigation into the new letter to the
Oregonian. Alice said she'd make copies for me. I also asked her to
tell O'Donnell that I was going to need to talk to him soon, since he'd
handled the Zimmerman case.
Next, I called MCT. I was lucky. Chuck was out interviewing a
witness, but Ray and Jack were both in. They put me on speaker and I
told them what Lisa had unloaded in her opening.
It was a great opportunity for catty chat about my nemesis, but I told
them I had to make it quick. They had already refreshed themselves on
the Zimmerman case, since they were working on the investigation into
the anonymous letter. I warned them that Lisa might call them back to
the stand to testify about the case.
'Do you have anything yet on the letter?' I asked.
They were silent. I could picture them looking at each other over the
speakerphone, wondering how to tell me that I was outside the official
circle of knowledge. Walker handled it. 'This thing's really hot,
Sam. O'Donnell and the lieutenant are going nuts over it, this being
the first execution and all. If anything leaks '
'Hey, forget it. I only asked because it would obviously be a lot
easier to defuse this Lopez stunt if we could show that the letter was
a hoax. If you don't want to tell me '
I heard the line get picked up off the speaker. Walker spoke quietly
into the handset. 'Look, don't count on getting anything on the
letter. No prints. No DNA on the envelope or stamp. Typewritten on
plain paper and dropped in a mailbox by the side of a road.' Great. No
help for me, and no help to Chuck. 'And Sam,' he said. 'No one knows,
not even Chuck. I just didn't want you getting your hopes up.'
I hung up feeling let down. It would be easiest if I could tie up any
loose ends that Lopez pulled free about the Zimmerman case, but
apparently I couldn't count on that. I would need to convince the jury
that Derringer was guilty, even if they developed doubts about the
guilt of Landry and Taylor.
When court resumed, Lisa called her first witness, the star with the
alibi convicted felon Derrick Derringer.
His testimony was predictable. Lopez did her best to make him sound
respectable. He owned a home in southeast Portland and worked night
shifts at one of those quickie oil-change places. As expected, he
swore under oath that his loser brother had been at his house on the
night Kendra was attacked. According to Derrick, his brother Frank a
few months on parole and ready to set off on a new law-abiding
lifestyle had walked the mile and a half to his house to hang out. They
wound up watching a Saturday Night Live repeat. He remembered that
John Goodman was the host because he did a brutally accurate
impersonation of the woman who had sold out the former president's
mistress to the independent counsel. I wasn't impressed. Last time I
checked, John Goodman hosted that show a couple times a month. And it
still wasn't funny.
Fortunately, I was ready with a tough cross for Derringer's brother,
and Lisa did little on direct exam to blunt the effect in advance.
With permission from Judge Lesh, I rose and approached Derrick
Derringer for questioning. The fact that the witness was the
defendant's brother was enough to give him a motive to lie, but
fortunately that line of questioning was only the beginning of my
cross.
'Isn't it true, Mr. Derringer, that you've had some run-ins with the
law yourself?'
'Yes, ma'am, I have.'
