"You've done this a lot, haven't you, Sergeant?" Casey began.
"What would 'this' be?" Bolinger wanted to know. He wasn't going to make it easy.
"This," Casey said, spreading her arms to encompass the entire courtroom, "testifying in a case, being cross-examined by a defense attorney."
"Yes, I have."
"And you don't like it, do you, Sergeant?" she said.
"It's all right," he replied.
"You don't like having your work questioned by someone like me, though, do you?"
"No, I don't think anyone likes to have their work questioned."
"You don't like it when an attorney points out all the things you've done wrong, do you?"
"I haven't done anything wrong," Bolinger said, bristling a little.
"No?" Casey said, arching her eyebrow and giving the jury a knowing look. "But we all make mistakes, don't we, Sergeant? I know I do from time to time. You're not telling us you're perfect, are you, Sergeant?"
"No. I'm not."
"Because you make mistakes, isn't that right?"
"I suppose," Bolinger said sullenly. "Like everyone else."
"Yes, that's what I said, like everyone else," Casey said with a pleasant smile. "You make mistakes and you don't like to have them pointed out… You made a lot of mistakes in this case, didn't you, Sergeant?"
"No," Bolinger scoffed. "No, I didn't."
"No?" Casey asked.
"No," he replied firmly.
"But isn't it true that Mr. Sales was at the crime scene, Sergeant?"
"Yes. What's that got to do with it?" he demanded.
Casey smiled sweetly at Bolinger, then said to the judge, "Your Honor, I would appreciate it if you'd help me to remind Detective Bolinger that I am the attorney and he is the witness."
"Please just answer the questions," Rawlins said to the cop.
"Thank you, Your Honor," Casey said cheerfully. When she turned to Bolinger, her face clouded over with intensity and disgust.
"Mr. Sales was violent at the scene, isn't that true?"
"Yes."
"He resisted arrest. He screamed. He fought. In fact, he had to be Maced and blackjacked and handcuffed before he could be brought to bay, isn't that true?"
"Yeah," Bolinger said, apparently bored.
"He was in a highly emotional state?"
"Yes. He was."
"And he was a suspect at that time, wasn't he?"
"Everyone was a suspect at that time," Bolinger said disdainfully. "At that time we had no clue as to who killed the girl. You were a suspect at that time, Ms. Jordan."
Casey looked to the judge.
"Detective…," Rawlins said in a warning tone.
"So," Casey said after the appropriate pause, "Mr. Sales was in a highly emotional state. He was violent, and at that time, he was your best suspect."
"I don't know about-"
"He was your best suspect at the time!" Casey cried. "Come on, Detective. Let's not play games with the jury. At that time, he was your best suspect, wasn't he?"
"Maybe at that time. He was the first person connected with her on the scene."
"Yes, he was. And so then you took him into the police station, didn't you?"
"Yes, to talk."
"Did you handcuff him?"
"Yes."
"Did you chain him to the floor?"
"That's standard procedure."
"So you chained him to the floor, didn't you?"
"Yeah," Bolinger said wearily.
Casey now marched back to her table and lifted a stack of papers in front of Patti Dunleavy, who was looking on with widened eyes. "But in all these police reports, I see that in all your investigation, your thorough investigation, that Mr. Sales's clothes were not checked for blood, were they?"
"I could see that he didn't have blood on him," Bolinger said irately. "I have eyes."
"You could see?"
"Yes."
"Detective, you know as well as I do that oftentimes blood is present that cannot be seen, isn't that true?"
"It's possible," he said after a pause.
"Yes, and you certainly examined my client's clothes in a lab, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"And you found no blood on my client's clothes, did you, Detective?"
"No, not on his clothes. Just on her underwear."
"Your Honor!" Casey bellowed in disgust.
"Detective." Rawlins glared. "If you do anything but answer Ms. Jordan 's questions, I can have you locked up for contempt and I'll do it. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes," Bolinger muttered.
"The jury is to disregard the detective's remark," Rawlins said. "It will be struck from the record."
Casey took a deep breath and huffed out through her nose. Bolinger had broken her momentum, exactly what he wanted to do.
"You've been a police officer how long, Detective?" she asked.
"Twenty-seven years."
"And in your experience, how many times did you fail to examine the clothes of a murder suspect?"
"I can't examine someone's clothes without a warrant," Bolinger said craftily.
"But, Detective, you searched Mr. Sales's home and his vehicle, isn't that true?"
"Yes."
"Because he let you. He signed a consent waiver, isn't that true, too?"
"Yes."
"But you never asked to examine his clothes, isn't that right?"
"Correct."
"And you never took nail clippings from Mr. Sales, isn't that true as well?"
"Yes."
"Because you made a decision that day that Mr. Sales wasn't the killer, isn't that right, Sergeant Bolinger?"
"Yes," he said defiantly. "I had a gut feeling that he wasn't the killer."
"So, acting on that gut feeling, you neglected your duty as an investigating officer, didn't you?"
"I never neglected my duty," Bolinger growled.
"Isn't your duty to be thorough?"
"Yes."
"But you made a final judgment on who was innocent and who was guilty, didn't you?"
"I guess I did," Bolinger said, again defiant.
"But isn't your job to collect the evidence, Detective?"
"Yes, that's my job."
"In fact, it is the jury's job to interpret the evidence, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Yes, it is. And the jury doesn't know if Mr. Sales had blood underneath his fingernails, do they?"
"No."
"And the jury doesn't know if there were traces of blood on Mr. Sales's clothes, do they?"
"No."
"No, they don't because you didn't do your job!" Casey roared. "You made yourself the jury, didn't you, Detective?"
"No, that's ridiculous."
"What's ridiculous," Casey said, at a boil, "is that you made a decision not to gather all the evidence from your best suspect at the time, and now I have to live with that, my client has to live with that, and this jury has to live with that!"
"Objection, Your Honor," Hopewood complained. "Counsel is simply badgering the witness."
"Sustained," Rawlins said. "Are those all the questions you have for the witness, Ms. Jordan?"