“Can you tell us about these?” says Kline. “How were they collected and analyzed?”
“The hair and fibers were lifted off the surface of the blanket by use of cellophane tape, as you might lift lint from a suit. They were transferred to a slide and first examined under a microscope.”
“Let’s stick with the carpet fibers first,” he says. “Were you checking these against samplers taken from another source?”
“Yes. Carpet fibers from the defendant’s county-assigned vehicle.”
“And what did you find?”
“I looked first to determine if there were comparisons of color and diameter. I found that there were.”
“What did you do then?” says Kline.
“A more detailed examination,” says the witness, “for other morphological features.”
“What do you mean, morphological?”
“Form and structure,” says Stinegold. “In particular, I was looking for striations on the surface of the fibers or pitting with delustering particles. Principally titanium dioxide,” he says. “These are sometimes added in the manufacturing process with synthetics to reduce the amount of shine.”
“And what did you find?”
“I observed the presence of similar delustering particles both on the carpet fibers from the defendant’s vehicle, and the fibers retrieved from the blanket used to wrap the victim’s body.”
“You considered this to be a significant point of comparison?”
“I did.”
“What did you do next?”
“I examined for color,” says Stinegold. “Color would be the most important differential.”
“Why is that?”
“Because most colors are composed of a mixture of dyes to obtain a desired shade. Finding the same dye composition would be a significant marker. It would be a unique distinguishing characteristic,” says Stinegold.
“And how would this be done?” says Kline.
“With the use of a microspectrophotometer.” Stinegold has to spell it for the court reporter.
“It’s a kind of microscope that compares colors of fibers through their spectral patterns. Without getting too technical, different fibers not only have different colors, but they emit differing light refractions, which can be measured with the proper equipment.”
“And you did this?” says Kline.
“Yes.”
“And what did you find?”
“That the fibers found in the defendant’s vehicle, his county-assigned sedan, were identical in form, color, and composition to the fibers found on the blanket used to wrap the victim’s body.”
Kline takes him through the specifics, that there are five different types of nylon used in such manufacture, one of these being what is known as “nylon 11.” In this case it is finished with a pigment that is ocean blue in color. These are two points of comparison-the type of nylon and a dye lot-that the witness says match the fibers on the blanket with those found in Acosta’s car.
“In your professional opinion, would you consider such a comparison significant?” Kline tries to close the door.
“Objection. Vague,” I say.
“Sustained. Rephrase the question,” says Radovich.
The issue here is how significant. Kline does a little circle in front of the stand, thinking before he rephrases.
“If you examined those carpet fibers and compared them to another sample taken randomly from another carpet, in your professional opinion, would you expect to find a match similar to what you found here?”
I raise the same objection, but this time Radovich overrules it.
“No.”
“If you compared it to ten other random samples would you expect a match?”
“No.”
“A hundred?”
“Not likely.”
“A thousand?” says Kline.
“The type of nylon perhaps,” says Stinegold. “But the color pigment, particularly the dye lot, would set it apart. I would call it a more significant characteristic.”
“Not responsive to the question,” I object.
“Overruled.”
“So in your opinion this is significant?”
“Yes. Unique to that dye lot. The manufacturer seldom if ever mixes two dye lots resulting in precisely the same pigmentation.”
“So that would be a unique characteristic of these fibers?”
“I would say so. Yes.”
Kline then turns his attention to the hair, which Stinegold identifies as animal in origin.
He goes into some detail on the myriad of distinctions between human and animal hair, the color banding that is distinctive in animal hair, while human hair is uniform in color throughout the shaft.
“The medulla at the center of the hair of a human is amorphous in appearance, seldom more than a third the width of the entire hair shaft,” says Stinegold, “whereas in animals it is much wider and can consume nearly all of the shaft. Also, the outer cuticular surface varies markedly between humans and animals, the difference being quite apparent.”
“So there’s no question in your mind that the hairs collected from the surface of the blanket used to wrap the body of Brittany Hall were animal in origin?”
“None whatever,” says Stinegold.
“Could you determine what kind of animal?”
“That was more difficult,” he says. “But through process of elimination I was ultimately able to determine that the hairs in question were equine.”
It is clear from the looks in the box that the jury had suspected a dog or cat. Kline plays along with this and in feigned surprise gives the witness arched eyebrows, a silent question.
“Horse hair,” says Stinegold in reply. “Probably sloughed off during shedding. There was a considerable amount of it.”
“Do you have an opinion as to how this hair came to be deposited on the blanket?”
“Probably a secondary transfer,” says Stinegold.
Prodded by Kline, the witness explains.
“In general terms, what this means is that the blanket itself did not come in contact with a horse. Instead it is likely that someone else got the hair on their clothing and either carried it to the blanket or perhaps to their residence, where it got on other things, furniture, bedding. The blanket could have become impregnated with the hair there, or it is even possible that the killer picked it up on his own clothing at that point, and by rubbing the blanket against his clothing while wrapping the body, may have left the hair on the surface of the blanket.”
This is a necessary mechanism for the state to show since they now know that Acosta never went near the stable. That was Lili’s province. She is particularly concerned by this, and as the trail of the hair is developed, I can see her physically recoil in the row directly behind her husband, just beyond the railing. She gives me a look, a pained expression.
“This is possible?” asks Kline. “This secondary transfer?”
“Oh, yes. Hair of that kind, in the quantities that I’m talking about, when a horse is shedding, is extremely pervasive. You couldn’t help but to track it into your home. Even if you brushed yourself off carefully, I would think that I could find significant traces of it where you lived.”
“Even if the person changed their clothing after riding or leaving the stables?” says Kline.
“It’s possible,” says Stinegold. “It’s likely that they would carry some of it in their own hair, or on some rougher surfaces of the skin. It’s very difficult to get rid of.”
“That leads us to the next question,” says Kline. “Did you in fact find traces of horse hair that matched the hair removed from the blanket used to wrap the body of Ms. Hall?”
“I did.”
“And where did you find these?”
“Three locations,” he says. “In the apartment of the decedent, Brittany Hall. In the residence of the defendant, Armando Acosta. And from the trunk in the defendant’s county-assigned vehicle as well as the passenger compartment of that car.”
Kline plays this for effect, a proper period of silence to accent the significance of this finding, before he anticipates our attack. He has Stinegold explain that the hair came from a stable frequented by the defendant’s wife, and that it was possible that it was picked up by the defendant on his clothes. He then concedes that hair is not one of those elements of physical evidence that is conclusive in its provenance. It is not like fingerprints, to be matched, in this case, to a specific horse.