“In view of the proximity of the Mexican border and the fact that a large percentage of the population in the area is Mexican or of Mexican descent, there is considerable likelihood that the owner of the shirt was Mexican?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You didn’t examine the sleeve cuff yourself, did you, Mr. Valenzuela?”
“Just superficially. The real examination was done at the police lab in Sacramento.”
“Was anything significant discovered in addition to the hairs?”
“Quite a bit of dirt and oil.”
“What kind of dirt?”
“Particles of sandy alkaline soil of the type found in irrigated-desert sections of the state like ours. There was a high nitrogen content in the soil, indicating the recent addition of a commercial fertilizer which is used on most ranches in the area.”
“And the oil mixed with the dirt?”
“It was sebum, the secretion of human sebaceous glands. This secretion is usually abundant in younger and more active people and decreases with age.”
“So a picture begins to take shape of the man who wore the shirt,” Ford said. “He was small and dark, probably Mexican. He worked on one of the ranches in the area. He was young. The blood on his shirt was type O. And he got into a fight in which at least two other people were involved. Would it be possible to reconstruct this man’s part in the fight?”
“I think so. The evidence seems to indicate that in the first stage of the fight he was hurt enough to bleed and that the left sleeve of his shirt was torn. He decided to escape before things got any rougher. As he ran out the door the torn sleeve caught on one of the spikes of the yucca plant and ripped completely off.”
“And the other two men?”
“They finished the fight,” Valenzuela said dryly.
“What can you tell us about these two men?”
“As I indicated earlier, they had different blood types, B and AB. Both of them bled considerably, especially AB.”
“On the floor of the mess hall?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Were samples of blood scraped off the floor and transported to the police lab in Sacramento?”
“No, sir. A section of the floor itself was removed and sent up there. This method allows a more precise analysis.”
“To simplify matters I will refer to each of the three men by their blood types. Is that agreeable to you, Mr. Valenzuela?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then O would be the dark young man who wore the green and blue plaid shirt and left the fight early after sustaining a superficial wound.”
“Yes.”
“Now let’s turn our attention to B. What do we know about him?”
“Traces of type B blood were found in the dog’s mouth.”
“Robert Osborne’s dog, Maxie?”
“Yes.”
“Since it’s highly unlikely, if not impossible, that Robert Osborne would have been attacked by his own dog, we know first of all that B was not Robert Osborne.”
“There is other evidence to that effect.”
“Such as?”
“Bits of human tissue, skin and hair found in the dog’s mouth indicate that B was dark-skinned and dark-haired. Mr. Osborne was neither. In addition, a small shred of cloth was caught between two of the dog’s teeth. The cloth was heavy-duty navy-blue cotton twill of the kind used to make men’s Levis. When Mr. Osborne left the house he was wearing gray gabardine slacks. In fact, he didn’t own any Levis. He wore lighter-weight, lighter-colored work clothes because of the heat in the valley.”
“Getting back to the dog for a moment, when and where was it found?”
“It was found the following Monday morning, October sixteen, near the corner where the Osborne ranch road joins the road leading to the main highway. The exact spot is out of range of the map on the display board.”
“What were the circumstances?”
“Several children from the Polk ranch, which adjoins Mr. Bishop’s, were on their way to meet the school bus when they spotted the dog’s body under a creosote bush. They told the bus driver and he called us.”
“Was an autopsy performed on the dog?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell us briefly the pertinent facts.”
“Multiple fractures of the skull and vertebrae indicated that the dog was struck and fatally injured by a moving vehicle such as a car.”
“Or a truck.”
“Or a truck.”
Ford consulted his notes again. “So we had definite knowledge that the man we have called B was dark-skinned and dark-haired, that he wore Levis, that he was bitten by the dog. What else?”
“He owned, or at least used, the butterfly knife.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“The blood on the knife belonged to the other man, AB.”
“Do you know who that other man was?”
“Yes, sir. Robert Osborne.”
Though there was no one in the room who hadn’t anticipated the answer, reaction to the spoken name seemed to be one of group surprise, simultaneous intakes of breath, sudden stirrings and rustlings and whispers.
“Mr. Valenzuela, tell the court why you’re so sure the third man was Robert Osborne.”
“The pieces of glass found on the mess-hall floor were identified by Dr. Paul Jarrett, an ophthalmologist, as fragments of contact lenses he had prescribed for Robert Osborne during the last week of May 1967.”
“Dr. Jarrett’s report is on file as part of the record?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Without going into technicalities, can you tell the court to what degree contact lenses are distinctive?”
“They’re not absolutely unique the way fingerprints are, for example. But each lens has to be fitted to each eye with such precision that it’s highly unlikely a mistake in identification could be made.”
“Since you’ve brought up the subject of fingerprints, Mr. Valenzuela, let’s pursue it. In reading your report of the case I was struck by the small amount of attention given to fingerprints. Will you explain this?”
“A large number of prints were lifted off the doors, walls, tables, benches, and so on. That was the trouble. Everybody and his little brother had been in and out of that mess hall.” Valenzuela paused, looking guilty, as though he’d committed a punishable offense by using language not condoned by the official rule book. “There were too many fingerprints in and around the building to allow for proper classification and comparison.”
“Now, Mr. Valenzuela, on November eight, nearly four weeks after Robert Osborne’s disappearance, a man named John W. Pomeroy was arrested in an Imperial Beach bar. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What was the charge?”
“Drunk and disorderly.”
“Was anything pertinent to this case found among Mr. Pomeroy’s effects when he was booked?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What was it?”
“A credit card issued by the Pacific United Bank to Robert Osborne.”
“How did it come into Mr. Pomeroy’s possession?”
“He said he found it, and his story checked out. At the beginning of that week the valley had its first rain of the season. The river flooded — or, more accurately, it appeared — and a lot of debris washed down that had been accumulating for months. Pomeroy was a lifelong vagrant; searching through piles of debris was second nature to him. He picked up the credit card about a quarter of a mile downstream from the Osborne ranch.”
“Is Mr. Pomeroy available for questioning in this proceeding?”
“No, sir. He died in the County Hospital of pneumonia the following spring.”
“Except for the credit card found in his possession, was there anything linking him to Robert Osborne’s disappearance on October thirteen?”