“Yes, I do.”
“Could you tell us please?”
“Yes, sir. The plastic came from several credit cards, which under the extreme heat had melted and fused together.”
“Were you able to distinguish between the credit cards?”
“In most cases, no. But one in the middle of the pack was not so badly damaged and I was able to separate it from the rest.”
“And what did it prove to be?”
“It was a Visa card.”
“And was the name on the card still legible?”
“Yes, it was.”
“And what was that name?”
“Jack Walsh.”
“Do you have that card here in court?”
“Yes, I do.”
The witness reached in his briefcase, produced another evidence bag holding a credit card.
“I ask that this card be marked for identification and received in evidence as People’s Exhibit Three.”
“No objection.”
“So ordered.”
The court reporter marked the exhibit.
“That’s all,” Dirkson said.
“Mr. Winslow?” Judge Grimes said.
“No questions.”
Jeremy Dawson gave Steve a look, but held his tongue.
Dirkson next called the medical examiner to the stand. A thin, white-haired, bespectacled man, he gave his name as Murray Abraham, cited his rather extensive qualifications, and testified to being summoned to the 66th Street Station on the night of the crime.
“And what time did you get there?” Dirkson asked.
The medical examiner pushed his glasses up on his nose with a long finger. “Eleven-oh-two,” he snapped.
Some of the jurors smiled. After the horrors Dirkson had been dragging them through, they were ready for any relief. The prissy preciseness of the medical examiner was affording them the opportunity, and they were gratefully seizing it.
“I see,” Dirkson said. “And can you tell me what you found there?”
“I found the body of a man.”
“Was he alive?”
“He was dead.”
“You pronounced him dead at the scene?”
“Yes, I did.”
“There was no question in your mind?”
“None at all. Nor would there have been any question in yours. The man was dead.”
“Now listen carefully, Doctor. What was the apparent cause of death?”
“The man had apparently burned to death.”
“I see. Did you make that determination then?”
“Certainly not,” the medical examiner snapped. “You said apparent cause of death, and that is how I answered the question. The man had apparently burned to death.”
“Did you subsequently determine the actual cause of death?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Fine. We’ll get to that in a moment,” Dirkson said. “First, can you tell me what you did at the scene of the crime?”
“Yes. As I said, I made a preliminary examination of the body and pronounced the man dead. I indicated to the officers of the Crime Scene Unit that it was highly likely that the man had met his death by criminal means. Then I waited while the Crime Scene Unit investigated and took photographs, and then ordered the body transferred to the morgue for autopsy.”
“And who performed that autopsy?”
“I did.”
“You performed the autopsy personally?”
“That is correct.”
“And had the decedent met his death by burning?”
“As I’ve already stated, he had not.”
“And did you determine the actual cause of death?”
“Yes, I did. The cause of death was a bullet which had penetrated the back of the skull and lodged itself in the decedent’s brain.”
“A bullet?”
“That’s right.”
“And did you remove this bullet from the brain of the decedent?”
“Yes, I did.”
“I see. And tell me, Doctor, would you know this bullet if you saw it again?”
“Yes, I would.”
Dirkson strode back to the prosecution table, picked up a small evidence bag.
“Your Honor, I ask that this be marked for identification as People’s Exhibit Four.”
When the court reporter had marked the exhibit, Dirkson handed it to the witness.
“Doctor, I hand you a bullet and ask you if you have seen it before?”
The medical examiner took the plastic evidence bag in his hands. He turned it over, examining the bullet.
“Yes, I have.”
“Can you tell us when and where?”
“Yes, sir. That is the bullet I removed that night from the brain of the decedent.”
“And how do you identify the bullet, Doctor?”
The medical examiner held up the plastic bag and pointed. “By my initials, which I scratched on the base of the bullet with a small etching tool.”
Dirkson nodded his approval. “Very good, Doctor. Now then, you’ve stated that this bullet was the cause of death?”
“That’s right.”
“How do you know that? How do you know he died from the bullet wound rather than the burning? Or in other words, how do you know he was first shot and then the body burned, rather than the other way around?”
“I know that from my autopsy. An examination of the body showed that the man was dead before the body was set on fire.”
“Oh really? And how could you tell that?”
“There were several factors, easily recognized by a trained pathologist.” The medical examiner sniffed and said somewhat condescendingly. “I shall point out those most easily understood by a layman. For one thing, live flesh burns differently than dead flesh. Even more conclusive was the condition of the lungs.”
“What about them?”
“There was no smoke in them. And if the man were alive when he was set on fire, there would have to be. He would have inhaled, and smoke would have gotten in the lungs. But he didn’t inhale. Therefore he wasn’t breathing. Therefore he wasn’t alive.”
“I see. So the bullet wound had to come first?”
“That’s what I just said.”
“And was the bullet wound extensive enough to cause death?”
“Absolutely. There was severe trauma to the brain. The man simply could not have lived.”
“Not even for a little while? What I’m getting at, Doctor, is it possible that the bullet merely rendered the man unconscious, put him into a coma, and it was the fire that actually killed him?”
The doctor shook his head impatiently. “A comatose man still breathes. Smoke would have entered the lungs. That didn’t happen.” Dr. Abraham held up one finger. “There is no question. The bullet killed him. The body was dead when it was set on fire.”
Dirkson nodded gravely, as if attaching great weight to the doctor’s remarks. “I see, Doctor. Tell me, did you determine the time of death?”
“I did.”
“And what was the time of death?”
“The decedent met his death between the hours of ten and eleven P.M. on February 26th.”
Dirkson nodded. “Thank you, Doctor. No further questions.”
Judge Grimes looked at the defense table. “Mr. Winslow?”
Steve hesitated just long enough to let the doctor think he was going to get away. Then he rose to his feet. “I have one or two questions, Your Honor.”
Steve stepped out from behind the table and crossed to the witness stand.
The jurors watched with some interest. This was the first witness Steve Winslow had seen fit to cross-examine, which magnified its importance.
“Between the hours of ten and eleven, Doctor?”
“That’s right.”
“That’s a rather precise time frame, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“How were you able to be so accurate?”
“Because I saw the body so soon after death. I was on the scene at 11:02. I performed the autopsy shortly after midnight.”
“I see. And when did you determine the time of death? At 11:02 when you first saw the body, or shortly after midnight when you performed your autopsy?”
“When I performed my autopsy, of course.”
“You determined the time of death solely from medical factors?”
“Of course.”
“Well, Doctor, I’m just a layman, but as I recall, one of the factors in determining the time of death is post mortem lividity, is that right?”