Martin stood to object. Judge Green waved him back down.
”Tone it down, Mr. Dillard,” the judge said.
”They have no murder weapon. They have no eyewitnesses. They have no fingerprints, no blood evidence, and no way to place Miss Christian at the scene of the crime. They say the motive is robbery, but they didn’t find any of Reverend Tester’s money on Miss Christian. They have no evidence to prove it.
”In this case, the government must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Miss Christian, acting with premeditation, stabbed the victim to death and then mutilated his body. In order for you to convict Miss Christian, you must have virtually no doubt that she committed this terrible crime. And beyond that, the judge will instruct you that in a case based on circumstantial evidence such as this one, you can only find Miss Christian guilty if there is no other reasonable theory of guilt. There are dozens of other reasonable theories as to how Reverend Tester was killed.
”When all the evidence is in, you folks will have more than a reasonable doubt. As a matter of fact, you’ll probably be wondering why this young lady was arrested in the first place. Angel Christian has been living a nightmare since the day the state wrongfully accused her of murder. It’s a nightmare only you can end. She is not guilty. She did not do this terrible thing.”
I paused and looked at each of the jurors. I wanted the message to sink in.
”Everyone associated with this trial is doing their duty,” I said. ”The judge, the lawyers, the witnesses, everyone. Your duty is to determine the truth, and after you’ve done that, to vote your conscience. In this case, the only verdict you’ll be able to return is not guilty. This is a death penalty case. A man has been killed, and someone should pay for killing him.
But none of us wants an innocent person to pay, and that beautiful young woman sitting over there is innocent.”
July 24
2:15 p.m.
”Call your first witness,” Judge Green said.
Martin called Dennis Hall, the manager of the Budget Inn, to the witness stand. Hall told the jury that Reverend Tester had checked in late in the afternoon of April 11th, said he was there to preach at a revival at a friend’s church, and asked him where he could get a good burger. An hour after checkout time the next day, one of his maids told him Tester’s ”Do Not Disturb” sign was still on the door. Hall went to the room, opened the door, saw all of the blood, and called the police.
When Martin was finished with his direct examination, I stood and straightened my tie.
”Mr. Hall, did you see Reverend Tester return to the motel at any time after he left for the restaurant you recommended-the Purple Pig, I believe it was?”
”No, sir. I got off work at seven and went home.”
I touched Angel’s shoulder. ”Have you ever seen this young lady before?”
”No. I would have remembered her.”
”Thank you.”
”You can step down,” Judge Green said. ”Next witness.”
Martin called Sheila Hunt, the clerk who was working at the Budget Inn the night of the murder.
She said she saw Tester’s truck pull into the parking lot around midnight, followed by a red Corvette. She said a woman got out of the Corvette and followed Tester up the stairs. Martin didn’t bother to ask her whether she could identify the woman.
”Ms. Hunt,” I said when it was my turn, ”it was raining when you saw Reverend Tester return to the motel, wasn’t it?”
”Yes, it was.”
”Raining pretty hard?”
”Yes.”
”And that made it difficult for you to see, didn’t it?”
”Yes. The rain, and I wasn’t paying that much attention. I was watching Jay Leno.”
”And didn’t you tell the police that the person you saw was wearing some kind of coat or cape?”
”It had a little hood. I remember thinking she looked like Little Red Riding Hood, except I don’t think it was red.”
”So you can’t identify the person, can you?”
”No, I’m sorry.”
”There’s nothing to be sorry about, ma’am. You can’t tell us whether this person was old or young, can you?”
”No.”
”Tall or short? Heavy or slim?”
”No.”
”Can’t tell us whether this person was black or white or brown or yellow or red?”
”I don’t think she was black,” she said. ”But that’s about all I can say.”
”You can’t really even say with certainty that it was a woman, can you?”
”I think it was.”
”But you’re not certain, are you?”
”I don’t know. I think it was a woman.”
”You think it was a woman. A young lady is on trial for her life here, ma’am. You need to be certain.
You’re not, are you?”
”It was dark and raining.”
”Thank you. Let’s talk about the car for a second.
You weren’t able to get a tag number, were you?”
”I didn’t try.”
”Because there wasn’t anything that alarmed you, right?”
”That’s right. I wasn’t alarmed.”
”People come and go at the motel all the time, yes?”
”Yes.”
”You didn’t see the driver, did you?”
”No.”
”Don’t know if it was a man or a woman?”
”I didn’t see the driver at all.”
”Didn’t see where the car went after the passenger got out?”
”I just glanced over there for a second. Then I went back to watching my show.”
”Didn’t see the car leave or return?”
”I told you, I went back to my show.”
”Thank you.”
Martin looked as confident as ever, but he had to be at least a little worried. His case wasn’t exactly off to a flying start. His first witness had found a body and called the police. His second witness testified that she didn’t see a damned thing.
I glanced over to my left and saw Deacon Baker and Phil Landers moving towards the prosecution table.
”Call your next witness,” Judge Green said.
”May I have a moment to confer with Mr. Martin?” Baker said.
”Make it snappy,” the judge said.
Baker leaned over and whispered something in Martin’s ear. Martin nodded and whispered back.
The two of them turned towards the judge.
”May we approach, Your Honor?” Baker said.
Green motioned them forward, and I got up and joined them.
”We need to speak to you in chambers,” Baker said.
”We’re in the middle of a murder trial, in case you haven’t noticed,” Judge Green said.
”I apologize,” Baker said, ”but something extremely important has come up. It has a direct bearing on this case.”
Judge Green agreed to a fifteen-minute recess, and the judge, Baker, Landers, Martin, and I walked into his chambers. He shut the door, hung his robe on a coat tree near the window, and sat down behind his desk.
”What’s going on?” he said.
”There’s been an important development in this case,” Baker said. ”The TBI found a red Corvette in a barn up on Spivey Mountain this morning. The car belongs to Erlene Barlowe. Their forensics people are examining it now.”
”I fail to see what that has to do with this trial.”
”It may exculpate Mr. Dillard’s client,” Baker said.
”Back when we made the arrest, we had a young lady who worked for Barlowe at the strip club who told us that Barlowe and Angel left the club at the same time as the victim in this case. She told us they left in Barlowe’s red Corvette, and they didn’t come back to the club that night.”
”I remember that,” the judge said. ”That and the fact that Ms. Barlowe had been untruthful were the primary reasons I signed the search warrants to search her home and her club and to allow you to get hair samples from Barlowe and the girl.”
”That’s right,” Baker said. ”We’ve also had another witness contact us since who said he saw a woman fitting Ms. Barlowe’s description standing beside a Corvette on Pickens Bridge a little after midnight on the night of the murder. He said she was alone. We think Ms. Barlowe was dumping the murder weapon and the reverend’s penis. The problem we ran into was that the car disappeared. We couldn’t find it anywhere, and because we couldn’t find it, we believed it probably contained evidence regarding the murder. Now we’ve found it, and from what I understand, there are what appear to be bloodstains on the seat.”