“Really? You don’t recall coming to my home with your search warrant and my volunteering to take you to my warehouse, where I kept the records you wanted to search?”
“You did agree to meet us at the warehouse and open it for us so we wouldn’t have to break the lock.”
“Okay, and once we were there and you found this so-called hidden closet, did I not tell you what file drawer to look in for communications between me and Sam Scales?”
“I don’t remember it that way, no.”
“Well, how many file cabinets were in the storage room, Detective?”
“I don’t remember.”
“More than one?”
“Yes.”
“More than two?”
“I don’t remember how many there were.”
I disengaged from Drucker and looked up at the judge.
“Objection, Your Honor,” I said. “The witness is unresponsive to the question asked.”
“Answer the question, Detective,” the judge told the detective.
“There were more than two,” Drucker said. “There may have been as many as five.”
“Thank you, Detective,” I said. “Did you search all five of those filing cabinets?”
“No. You said most of them contained client files and were covered by attorney-client privilege. You refused to unlock them.”
“But I unlocked the filing cabinet containing my financial records, isn’t that right, Detective?”
“I don’t remember whether it was locked.”
“But you remember that you were prohibited from searching some filing cabinets but not the one you searched, is that correct?”
“I suppose that is correct.”
“So, first you didn’t remember that I showed you the filing cabinet containing my financial documents, but now you admit that in fact I did show you where to search for my financial records. Do I have that right, Detective?”
“Objection!” Berg shouted.
Warfield raised her hand to cut off anything further.
“This is cross-examination, Ms. Berg,” she said. “Impeachment of the witness’s credibility is a proper issue of inquiry. Answer the question, Detective.”
“You did direct us to the filing cabinet,” Drucker said. “I apologize for my misstatement. I was not visualizing the events as I experienced them.”
“Okay, let’s move on here,” I said. “You said you searched the cabinet, found the file on Sam Scales, and removed the document now marked as state’s L. Do I have all that right?”
“Yes.”
“Did you look for or take any other documents during the search of my records?”
“Yes. There were two earlier letters to Sam Scales of similar nature — asking for money.”
“You mean asking him to pay his legal bills?”
“Yes.”
“Did they include threats to violence if he did not pay?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Is that why they have not been introduced in court today?”
Berg objected and asked for a sidebar. I was on a roll with Drucker and didn’t want to lose momentum. I withdrew the question, negating the objection and need for a sidebar, then pressed on.
“Did you take anything else from my storage files, Detective Drucker?”
“No. The warrant covered only financial communications between you and the victim.”
“So, you did not ask the judge who signed the warrant for permission to check my tax returns to see if I had written off the Sam Scales debt as a business loss?”
Drucker had to think for a moment before answering. This was completely new information to be considered.
“It’s a simple question, Detective,” I prompted. “Did you—”
“No, we did not ask for tax returns,” Drucker said.
“Do you think if you had known that this debt was turned into a tax deduction, it would have mitigated your belief that it was the motive behind the killing of Sam Scales?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think it might have been good information to have as you investigated the case?”
“All information is good to have. We like to throw out a wide net.”
“But not wide enough in this case, correct?”
Berg objected to the question, saying it was argumentative. The judge sustained the objection, and that was what I wanted. I didn’t want Drucker to answer the question. It was meant for the jury.
“Your Honor,” I said. “I have no further questions at this time but will be calling Detective Drucker back as a defense witness.”
I returned to the defense table while Berg called her next witness. Maggie gave me the nod for my first swing at Drucker.
“Good stuff,” she said. “Should I have Lorna go to the warehouse and pull the tax return? We could use it as a defense exhibit.”
“No,” I whispered. “There is no deduction.”
“What do you mean?”
“You wouldn’t know this because you’ve spent your life in public service. Same with Berg and same with Drucker. Even the judge was a public defender before she got elected. But a private attorney can’t deduct unpaid fees as a business loss. The IRS won’t allow it. You just have to eat the loss.”
“So it was a bluff?”
“Pretty much. About as much bullshit as them saying that letter I sent Sam was a threat to kill without really saying it.”
Maggie leaned back and stared straight ahead as she computed this.
“Welcome to criminal defense,” I whispered.
44
linear, methodical, routine — Dana Berg was following textbook case delivery. The prosecution usually had such advantages in terms of its wealth and reach that that was usually all it took. The state overwhelmed with its power and might. Prosecutors could afford to be unimaginative, even stodgy. They trotted out their cases to the jury like furniture instructions from Ikea. Step-by-step with big illustrations, all the tools you needed included. No need to look elsewhere. No need to worry. And at the end you have a sturdy table that is both stylish and functional.
Berg ran out the afternoon with testimony and video from the lead criminalist who had been in charge of the crime scene and then the deputy coroner who had conducted the autopsy on the victim. Both witnesses were part of the building blocks of the state’s case, even if they offered no evidence that directly implicated me. With the criminalist, I passed on the opportunity to ask questions. There was nothing to be gained there. With the coroner, Berg ran her direct examination past the usual 4:30 p.m. cutoff for testimony. Judge Warfield liked to use the last half hour of the day to dismiss the jury with warnings about avoiding media reports and discussing the case on social media or anywhere else, and then to check with the lawyers for any new business to consider.
But I stood up to address the court before she could do it.
“Your Honor, I have only a few questions for the witness,” I said. “If I can get them in today, the prosecution can start tomorrow with a new witness and Dr. Jackson will be able to go back to his important work at the coroner’s office.”
“If you’re sure, Mr. Haller,” the judge responded, a suspicious tone in her voice.
“Five minutes, Judge. Maybe less.”
“Very well.”
I went to the lectern with only my copy of the autopsy report and nodded to the witness, Dr. Philip Jackson.
“Dr. Jackson, good afternoon,” I began. “Can you tell the jury if it was your opinion that the victim in this case was obese?”
“He was overweight, yes,” Jackson said. “I’m not sure he would be considered obese.”
“How much did he weigh at autopsy?”
Jackson referred to his own copy of the autopsy report before responding.
“He weighed two hundred six pounds,” he said.