“Objection, Your Honor.”
“Sustained. Mr. Winslow, if you could likewise avoid baiting the witness?”
“Yes, Your Honor. Dr. Stanton, regarding this bullet-is it then your testimony that this bullet is the sole and sufficient cause of death of the decedent, Frank Fletcher?”
“Yes, it is.”
“This particular bullet?”
“Yes. If that’s Exhibit One,” Stanton said, “that’s the bullet.”
“Oh, it’s Exhibit One,” Steve said. “I wouldn’t switch bullets on you, doctor. Here. See for yourself.”
He handed Dr. Stanton the plastic bag. Stanton took it, looked at it, started to hand it back.
“No, hang on to it for a minute, doctor,” Steve said. “I’d like to ask you some questions about the bullet. To begin with, tell us again how you recognize it as the bullet you took from the body of the decedent?”
“As I said, I scratched my initials on the base.”
“And your initials are?”
“A.S. For Andrew Stanton.”
“I see. And can you find your initials on the base of the bullet now?”
“Yes, of course. They’re right here.”
“The court reporter will please note that he is indicating the flat part of the bullet on which he scratched the initials A and S.”
Steve left the doctor holding the plastic bag, stepped back and said, “And that is how you identify this as the bullet you recovered from the body of Frank Fletcher?”
“That’s right.”
“Tell me, doctor. What caliber is that bullet?”
Stanton smiled. “I’m not a ballistics expert.”
“You’re telling me you don’t know?”
“Only by hearsay.”
“You’ve been told the caliber of the bullet?”
“That is correct.”
“You can’t tell yourself?”
“I can make a good guess. But I’m not up here to testify to guesswork.”
“So when you identify this bullet as the one you took from the body of the decedent, you’re not going by the caliber, are you?”
“No, I’m not. As I said, I marked the bullet.”
“You marked it A.S.?”
“That’s right.”
“Because those are your initials?”
“Yes.”
“Doctor, you stated that you’ve been a medical examiner for twelve years?”
“That’s right.”
“Tell me. Is this the first fatal bullet you’ve ever recovered?”
“No, of course not.”
“How many fatal bullets have you recovered in your career?”
“I really couldn’t say.”
“Would it be hundreds?”
“Perhaps a hundred. Perhaps more. I’ve never counted, but I’ve certainly seen my share of bullets.”
“Fatal bullets?”
“Yes, fatal bullets.”
“We’re talking about fatal bullets that you recovered during the course of an autopsy?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Are you saying that you’ve recovered as many as a hundred fatal bullets during the course of your autopsies?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Did you mark them, doctor?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The fatal bullets you recovered-did you mark them?”
“Yes, of course.”
“How did you mark them?”
“With my initials.”
“And your initials are A.S.?”
“That’s right.”
“And always have been A.S.? You haven’t changed your name, have you doctor?”
“Objection.”
“Sustained.”
“You say you have marked fatal bullets with your initials. Have those initials always been A.S.?”
“Yes, of course.”
“To the best of your recollection, you have marked every fatal bullet you ever recovered?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“You have recovered by your own estimation perhaps a hundred fatal bullets?”
“Yes.”
“Well, doctor, what is there about the bullet in your hand, the bullet marked for identification as People’s Exhibit One, the bullet you have marked with your initials A.S., that enables you to distinguish it from any of the other fatal bullets you have recovered in your career, which you testified that you also marked A.S.?”
Dr. Stanton opened his mouth to say something. Closed it again.
“Can you answer that, doctor?”
“Objection. Badgering the witness,” Dirkson said.
“Overruled.”
“You want to answer that, doctor?” Steve said.
Stanton took a breath. “I can only say the question has no relevance. There is only one bullet involved in this particular case. There is no other bullet for it to be confused with.”
“Then why mark it at all?”
“To show it was the bullet that was recovered in my autopsy.”
“But if I understand your testimony correctly, all that it shows is that it is one of the bullets that you recovered in one of your many autopsies.”
“Nonsense,” Stanton said. “That’s the bullet that I took from the body of the decedent, Frank Fletcher.”
“How do you know?”
“How do I know anything?” Dr. Stanton said angrily. “I removed the bullet myself. I marked it. I delivered it to the police.”
“Exactly,” Steve said. “You let the bullet out of your custody. What is there about the bullet you hold in your hand that indicates it is the same bullet that you marked and delivered to the police?”
“I would think my initials should be sufficient.”
“Then let me ask you this, doctor. If I were to introduce ballistics evidence that the bullet that you hold in your hand had been fired by a gun that was proved to have killed a man on whom you had performed an autopsy last year, is there anything in your testimony or would you have any way whatsoever to prove that this was not the bullet that you recovered in that autopsy?”
“Objection. Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”
“It is a hypothetical question only, Your Honor, for the purpose of impeachment.”
“It is an impeaching question. The objection is overruled.”
“Would you have any way of proving this was not that bullet, doctor?”
Stanton took a breath. “No, I would not.”
“Thank you, doctor.” Steve Winslow turned to Judge Wylie. “Your Honor, at this time I would like to move that the doctor’s testimony regarding the bullet, People’s Exhibit One, being the fatal bullet, be stricken from the record and the jurors instructed to disregard it.”
Dirkson was immediately on his feet, but Judge Wylie cut him off. “I will not hear arguments at the present time. Let’s take a brief recess. Show the jury out. We can reconvene and discuss this motion. Jurors are advised not to talk among themselves. Court stands in recess for half an hour.
33
“Nice work,” Mark Taylor said. “You got ’em on the run.”
“Yeah,” Tracy said. “What you did with the doctor was great.”
“Yeah, but what’s it prove?” Steve said. “That’s the fatal bullet and everybody knows it.”
“You think the judge will strike the testimony?” Taylor said.
“Not a prayer.”
“Then why bother?”
“Are you kidding?” Tracy said. “The jury ate it up. Who cares what it proves?”
“You got anything, Mark?” Steve said. “The cross-examination may look good, but I happen to be firing blanks.”
“What I got ain’t good,” Taylor said.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Dirkson’s trying to prove a relationship, right? Between her and the stiff? There’s witnesses they went out together. To some of these trendy clubs. They’ll testify they were pretty close.”
“We knew that, Mark. What about drugs?”
“What about ’em?”
“The doctor gave me a kick in the chops, with the test positive for cocaine. I bore down on him like I caught him trying to snatch the royal jewels, but at the same time I’m kicking myself in the head.”
“Why?”
“What you just said. The cops can link Amy Dearborn and Frank Fletcher, prove they were running around these trendy clubs. Now throw in cocaine. Throw in the idea Amy was fired for pilfering petty cash, and the fact money was taken in this case, and you start to paint a picture in the mind of the jurors.”