“Objection. That’s complete speculation,” says Kline.
“Sustained as to the probabilities.” Radovich is willing to give me some latitude, but not this. Still, the seed is planted.
I take Stobel over the falls on the lack of other evidence linking Acosta to the crime scene. He concedes that they found no fingerprints, for Acosta or anybody else. From this he concludes only that the killer was meticulous in wiping the place clean.
“With regard to your investigation of the area surrounding the victim’s apartment, did you turn up any witnesses who told you that they saw my client in or about the apartment that afternoon, or evening?”
“No.”
“So you have no fingerprints, and no witnesses at the apartment?”
“No.”
These are points I have promised to deliver on in my opening statement. I avoid the issue of witnesses in the alley where they found Hall’s body. While Kline has delivered nothing concrete by way of statements from the indigent who found her in the trash bin, pushing the issue could lead to one of those questions that is better left alone for now.
“Detective Stobel, among the items of evidence that you took into custody, I believe you found a personal telephone directory belonging to the victim?”
“That’s correct”
“Did you examine that directory?”
“I looked through it.”
Kline has not marked this for identification, so I have the clerk produce it, and have it identified as “Defendant’s One.” I hand it to Stobel, a maroon phone directory, like a million others that can be purchased in any stationery store.
“Is this the directory you found at Brittany Hall’s apartment?”
He pages through it. “It appears to be.”
“Did you examine the handwriting in that directory?”
“Yes.”
“Did it appear to be that of the victim?”
I draw an objection on this, since Stobel is not an expert in the field. Radovich sustains this.
I ask him if the entries in the book appear, in his judgment, to be of the same handwriting as the entry on Hall’s calendar. Another objection, but Radovich rules that such an observation, a comparison as to whether they appear to be similar between two samplers, is within the proper purview of a layman without expertise in handwriting analysis.
“They looked similar,” says Stobel.
“So as far as you were concerned, this was the victim’s phone directory, with the entries in her own hand?”
“I assumed so,” he says.
“Did you notice anything peculiar about the book?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Were any pages missing?”
“Oh. Yes. Several pages,” he says.
“Do you recall which ones?”
He’d made a note on it at the time, and has to refresh his recollection. Then he looks at the book again, turns some pages, and studies the binding.
“The pages for four letters were missing,” he says.
“Four pages?”
“It looks like maybe five,” he says. “The missing pages are for the letters A, I, K, and L. And it looks like there may have been two pages for the letter L.”
“How were these removed?”
“Torn out,” he says. “It looks like they came out cleanly, right at the binding.”
“Did you examine any of the phone numbers in that book?”
“I looked at them.”
“Did you consider any of the people in that book to be possible suspects?”
“Objection as to time,” says Kline. “The question is vague.”
“Sustained.”
“Detective Stobel. At any time during your investigation of the murder of Brittany Hall did you consider any of the people whose names appear in that directory to be suspects in her murder?”
“I don’t know,” he says.
“Well, you were investigating the case, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever call any of the people in that directory in connection with her murder?”
“Hmm.” He thinks for a moment. “No.”
“Did you ever visit any of them to question them?”
“No.” Then he qualifies. “I don’t think I did. We talked to a lot of people. It’s possible we might have.”
“But you didn’t talk to them because their names were in that book?”
“No.” On this he is sure.
“Can you tell me, Detective Stobel, how many police officers appear in that directory?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you recognized the names of several police officers in it, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know these people?”
“Yes.”
“May I have it for a moment?”
He hands me the book. I turn a few pages.
“Who is Carl Jenson?”
“A police officer.”
“What division?”
“Vice,” he says.
I turn a few more pages. “Who is Alex Turner?”
“Another officer.”
“Is he assigned to Vice?”
“The last time I looked,” he says.
“Who is Norman Jefferies?”
“Vice officer,” he says.
“And Howard Hoag?” I have saved the best for last.
“Same,” he says.
“Do you know if these officers are currently on active duty with the Capital City Police Department?”
To this I get a howling response from Kline, who is out of his chair. “Objection. Sidebar,” he says.
Radovich waves us over.
“Your Honor, he’s trying to poison the jury,” says Kline. “He knows damn well they are suspended.”
“Maybe the jury needs to know it,” I tell him.
“What’s the relevance?” says Kline.
“That my client was framed, and that these same officers are now attempting to plant evidence of contraband in the home of his lawyer,” I say.
“There’s no evidence of that,” says Kline.
“They are suspended from active duty,” I tell him.
“Pending an investigation,” he says.
“Talk to me,” says Radovich. “I’m the one making the decisions here.”
Kline makes an appeal that evidence of the suspension is irrelevant. That it may mislead the jury.
I counter that police misconduct goes to the heart of our case.
Solomon style, Radovich slices the baby in half. “You can inquire as to the suspension, but not the cause,” he says.
We depart from the bench, each with half a loaf.
“Detective Stobel, can you tell the jury whether these officers, the names I have read to you from the victim’s phone directory, whether they are currently on active duty with the police department?”
“They are under suspension,” he says, “pending investigation.”
I study the faces of the jury. This has an effect, curiosity if nothing else. There is almost a palpable groan from Kline’s table.
“And the names of each of these officers appear in the victim’s telephone directory, in what appears to be her own handwriting?”
“It would appear so,” he says.
“Can you tell me who is Zack Wiley?” I ask.
“He was an officer. Deceased,” says Stobel.
“Was he assigned to Vice?”
“Yes.”
“And how did he die?”
“He was shot to death during a drug raid,” says Stobel.
“And the victim, Brittany Hall, apparently knew him as well.”
“Objection. Calls for speculation. Just because his name appears in the book,” says Kline.
“Sustained. Rephrase it,” says Radovich.
“The dead officer, Zack Wiley’s name appears in the victim’s telephone directory, in her own hand, isn’t that so?”
“Yes.”
“So all of these officers would have known each other if they worked on the same detail in Vice?”
“I assume so,” he says.
“And the victim, Brittany Hall, would have known them because on occasion she worked Vice undercover, as a reserve deputy?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know if she ever socialized with any of these officers?”
“I don’t know.”
“You never asked during your investigation?”