“I found that the man had died from a bullet wound to the head.”
“A single bullet?”
“That is correct.”
“The bullet was the sole cause of death?”
“To the best I could determine.”
“Was the bullet wound sufficient to have caused death?”
“Oh, yes. The bullet had penetrated the forehead and lodged in the brain, causing extensive cerebral damage. It would be extraordinary to find any sign of life under those circumstances.”
“And there was none?”
“No. As I’ve stated before, the man was dead.”
“And death was caused by the bullet you found lodged in the brain?”
“That is correct.”
“Did you remove that bullet from the brain, doctor?”
“Yes, I did.”
With a flourish Vaulding strode back to the prosecution table, opened his briefcase, pulled out a plastic bag and held it up. “Your Honor, I ask that this be marked for identification as People’s Exhibit Number One.”
After the court reporter had marked the exhibit, Vaulding took the plastic bag and handed it to Dr. Blessing. “Doctor, I hand you this plastic bag marked for identification People’s Exhibit Number One and ask you if you recognize the contents.”
“Yes, I do.”
“What is it?”
“It is the bullet I removed from the head of the victim.”
“How do you recognize it?”
Dr. Blessing pointed. “By my initials, which I scratched on the base of the bullet.”
“And this is the bullet that your examination determined to be the sole cause of death?”
“That is correct.”
Vaulding smiled. “Thank you. Your witness.”
Steve Winslow stood up. “Six twenty-one, doctor?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You took the body temperature at six twenty-one?”
Dr. Blessing referred to his notes. “That is correct.”
“And what was it?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“What was the body temperature at six twenty-one?”
Again Blessing consulted his notes. “Ninety-six point six.”
“Ninety-six point six? That’s two degrees cooler than normal, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Now, tell me, doctor, what is the normal rate of cooling of a body after death?”
“It’s approximately one and a half degrees Fahrenheit per hour.”
“Let’s do the math. You say the body had cooled two degrees. One and a half degrees would be one hour. Half a degree would be twenty minutes. So the body had cooled approximately an hour and twenty minutes. You took the temperature at six twenty-one. An hour and a half earlier would be five oh-one, say approximately five o’clock. Is that right?”
“Yes, it is.”
Steve smiled. “Well, that’s mighty strange, doctor. Didn’t you put the time of death between four o’clock and five-thirty?”
“Yes, I did.”
“I thought you did. That’s why I had expected the median time of death, the most likely time of death, the time of death we would mathematically come out with, to be four forty-five. Because that’s halfway between those times. Or in other words, when you said death took place between the hours of four o’clock and five-thirty, I assumed you meant it was because you were indicating death could have taken place within forty-five minutes before the median time of death, or within forty-five minutes after the median time of death.”
Dr. Blessing said nothing. His lips were set in a firm line.
“Is that not the case?” Steve said.
“No, it is not the case,” Dr. Blessing snapped.
“It isn’t? But didn’t you testify that a body cools at one and a half degrees Fahrenheit per hour? Didn’t you testify that when you took the body temperature it was two degrees below normal, or ninety-six point six? Didn’t you testify that you took the body temperature at six twenty-one?”
“Yes, I did,” Dr. Blessing said. “And those are very good indications of when the man met his death. But no determination of the time of death could be that exact. You can’t say it had to be five o’clock any more than you can say it had to be four forty-five.”
“Granted,” Steve said. “But don’t your findings indicate death was more likely to have been at five o’clock than four forty-five?”
“Not necessarily,” Dr. Blessing said.
“Really?” Steve said. “Well, maybe we should do the math again.”
“Objection,” Vaulding said.
“Overruled,” Judge Hendrick said. “Witness may answer.”
“Answer what?” Vaulding said irritably. “That’s not even a question.”
“What’s that?” Judge Hendrick said. He turned to the court reporter. “Read back that last exchange.”
The court reporter shuffled through her notes, read back, “Answer: ‘Not necessarily.’ Question: ‘Then maybe we should do the math again.’”
“It was not a question,” Judge Hendrick ruled. “Mr. Winslow, would you please rephrase your remark and put it in the form of a question?”
“Certainly, Your Honor. Dr. Blessing, would you please explain to me why the math we have just done in court comes up with the median time of five o’clock, whereas your estimation of the time of death gives us the median time of four forty-five?”
Dr. Blessing was somewhat red in the face. He took a breath. “As I’ve already stated, while body temperature is generally the most accurate method of determining the time of death, no method can be that precise. In coming up with a reasonable estimate of the time of death, it is necessary for me to consider all the factors involved.”
“That’s very interesting,” Steve said. “What other factors were there?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“What other medical factors were there that you used in determining the time of death?”
Dr. Blessing paused, frowned.
“Rigor mortis hadn’t begun to set in, had it?” Steve asked.
“No, it had not.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so, that soon after death. So that wasn’t a factor. And post mortem lividity wasn’t a factor either, was it?”
“No, it was not.”
“The stomach contents-were they useful?”
Dr. Blessing hesitated again. “Not particularly. The decedent had had a late brunch of bacon and eggs and sweet rolls. However, brunch was served that morning from nine till one, and no one has been able to supply me with the time they believe the decedent ate.”
“I see. So the stomach contents do not help you pin down the time of death, do they, doctor?”
“No, they do not.”
“Then what other medical factors did you rely on in determining the time of death?”
“There were no other medical factors.”
Steve frowned. “Is that right, doctor? You mean the only medical factor you relied on was the body temperature?”
“That is basically correct.”
“Basically?” Steve said. “Why do you qualify your answer with the word basically? Is it correct, or is it not correct?”
Dr. Blessing hesitated.
Vaulding sprang to his aid. “Objection, Your Honor.”
“Overruled,” Judge Hendrick snapped.
“Is it correct, or is it not correct?” Steve repeated.
“It’s correct,” Dr. Blessing said grudgingly.
“Thank you, doctor. I thought it was. Then your use of the word basically is incorrect, is it not?”
“Objection.”
“Overruled.”
“Was your use of the word basically incorrect?”
“Not, it was not,” Dr. Blessing snapped. “I said it was basically correct, and it is basically correct.”
“It is also basically misleading, doctor. Isn’t it true that what I said was entirely correct, and you used the word basically because you were reluctant to admit this? Because you are the prosecution’s witness and you are biased in their favor. And you used the word basically because you were reluctant to admit anything that might hurt the prosecution’s case. And your use of the word basically is an indication of your bias.”
“Objection.”
“Overruled. The witness may answer.”