She testified that on the day of the murder she had followed her routine and found an unassigned parking slot approximately ten spaces from Mitchell Bondurant’s assigned space. After leaving and locking her car, she walked toward the bridge that connected the garage to the bank building. It was then that she discovered the body. She first saw the spilled coffee, then the open briefcase on the ground, and finally Mitchell Bondurant lying facedown and bloodied.
Sanchez knelt next to the body and checked for signs of life, then pulled her cell phone out of her purse and called 911.
It’s rare to score defense points off a scene-setter witness. Their testimony is usually very prescribed and rarely contributes to the question of guilt or innocence. Still, you never know. On cross-examination I stood and threw a few questions at Sanchez just to see what might pop loose.
“Now, Ms. Sanchez, you described your very precise morning routine here but there really is no routine once you drive into the bank’s garage, correct?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean that you do not have an assigned parking space so there is no routine when it comes to that. You get into the garage and have to start hunting for a space, right?”
“Well, sort of. The bank isn’t open yet so there are always plenty of spaces. I usually go up to the second floor and park in the area where I did that day.”
“All right. In the past, had you walked into work with Mr. Bondurant?”
“No, he was usually in earlier than me.”
“Now on the day that you found Mr. Bondurant’s body, where was it that you saw the defendant, Lisa Trammel, in the garage?”
She paused as if it was a trick question. It was.
“I don’t-I mean, I didn’t see her.”
“Thank you, Ms. Sanchez.”
Next up on the stand was the 911 operator who took the 8:52 A.M. emergency call from Sanchez. Her name was LeShonda Gaines and her testimony was used primarily to introduce the tape of the call from Sanchez. Playing the tape was an overly dramatic and unneeded maneuver but the judge had allowed it over a pretrial objection from me. Freeman played forty seconds of the tape after handing out transcripts to the jurors as well as to the judge and the defense.
GAINES: Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?
SANCHEZ: There’s a man here. I think he’s dead! He’s all bloody and he won’t move.
GAINES: What is your name, ma’am?
SANCHEZ: Riki Sanchez. I’m in the parking garage at WestLand National in Sherman Oaks.
(pause)
GAINES: Is that the Ventura Boulevard location?
SANCHEZ: Yes, are you sending someone?
GAINES: Police and paramedics have been dispatched.
SANCHEZ: I think he’s already dead. There’s a lot of blood.
GAINES: Do you know who he is?
SANCHEZ: I think it’s Mr. Bondurant but I’m not sure. Do you want me to turn him over?
GAINES: No, just wait for the police. Are you in any danger, Ms. Sanchez?
(pause)
SANCHEZ: Uh, I don’t think so. I don’t see anybody around.
GAINES: Okay, wait for the police and keep this line open.
I didn’t bother asking any questions on cross-examination. There was nothing to be gained for the defense.
Freeman threw her first curveball after Gaines was excused. I expected her to go with the first responding officer next. Have him testify about arriving and securing the scene, and get the crime scene photos to the jury. But instead she called Margo Schafer, the eyewitness who put Trammel close to the crime scene. I immediately saw the strategy Freeman was employing. Instead of sending the jury to lunch with crime scene photos in their minds, send them out with the first ah-ha moment of the trial. The first piece of testimony that connected Trammel to the crime.
It was a good plan but Freeman didn’t know what I knew about her witness. I just hoped I got to her before lunch.
Schafer was a petite woman who looked nervous and pale as she took the witness stand. She had to pull the stemmed microphone down from the position Gaines had left it in.
Under direct questioning, Freeman drew from Schafer that she was a bank teller who had returned to work four years earlier after raising a family. She had no corporate aspirations. She just enjoyed the responsibility that came with the job and the interaction with the public.
After a few more personal questions designed to create a rapport between Schafer and the jury, Freeman moved on to the meat of her testimony, asking the witness about the morning of the murder.
“I was running late,” Schafer said. “I am supposed to be in place at my window at nine. I first go to get my bank out of the vault and sign it out. So usually I am there by quarter of. But on that day I hit traffic on Ventura Boulevard because of an accident and was very late.”
“Do you remember exactly how late, Ms. Schafer?” Freeman asked.
“Yes, ten minutes exactly. I kept looking at the clock on the dashboard. I was running exactly ten minutes behind schedule.”
“Okay, and when you got close to the bank did you see anything out of the ordinary or that caused you concern?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And what was that?”
“I saw Lisa Trammel on the sidewalk walking away from the bank.”
I stood and objected, saying that the witness would have no idea where the person she claimed was Trammel was walking from. The judge agreed and sustained.
“What direction was Ms. Trammel walking in?” Freeman asked.
“East.”
“And where was she in relation to the bank?”
“She was a half a block east of the bank, also walking east.”
“So she was walking in a direction away from the bank, correct?”
“Yes, correct.”
“And how close were you when you saw her?”
“I was going west on Ventura and was in the left lane so that I could move into the turning lane to turn into the entrance to the bank’s garage. So she was three lanes across from me.”
“You had your eyes on the road, though, didn’t you?”
“No, I was stopped at a traffic light when I first saw her.”
“So was she at a right angle to you when you saw her?”
“Yes, directly across the street from me.”
“And how was it that you knew this woman to be the defendant, Lisa Trammel?”
“Because her photo is posted in the employee lounge and in the vault. Plus her photo was shown to bank employees about three months before.”
“Why was that done?”
“Because the bank had been granted a restraining order prohibiting her from coming within a hundred feet of the bank. We were shown her photo and told to immediately report to our supervisors any sighting of her on bank property.”
“Can you tell the jury what time it was when you saw Lisa Trammel walking east on the sidewalk?”
“Yes, I know exactly what time it was because I was running late. It was eight fifty-five.”
“So at eight fifty-five, Lisa Trammel was walking east in a direction that was moving away from the bank, correct?”
“Yes, correct.”
Freeman asked a few more questions designed to elicit answers that indicated that Lisa Trammel was only a half block from the bank within a few minutes of the 911 call reporting the murder. She finally finished with the witness at 11:30 and the judge asked if I wanted to take an early lunch and begin my cross-examination afterward.
“Judge, I think it’s only going to take me a half hour to handle this. I’d rather go now. I’m ready.”
“Very well then, Mr. Haller. Proceed.”
I stood up and went to the lectern located between the prosecution table and the jury box. I carried a legal pad with me and two display boards. I held these so that their displays faced each other and could not be seen. I leaned them against the side of the lectern.