Illegal Alien

*17*

Opening arguments consumed an entire day. At ten a.m. the next day, the prosecution’s case-in-chief began.

“On the record now in California v. Hask,” said Judge Pringle, taking her place at the bench. “The defendant is present, as are his attorneys, Mr. Rice and Ms. Katayama. The People are represented by Ms. Ziegler and Ms. Diamond. The jury is present. Are the People ready to proceed?”

“We are, Your Honor,” said Ziegler.

“Very well. You may call your first witness.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” said Ziegler, moving over to stand in front of the lectern. The Court TV camera panned to follow her. “The People call Dr. Anne Flemingdon.”

Flemingdon was a tough-looking white woman in her forties, broad shouldered, round-headed, with short-cropped hair that she was content to let show its gray. She was wearing a dark-blue jacket over a pale green blouse, and matching blue pants.

Dr. Flemingdon moved through the little wooden gate that separated the spectators from the lawyers, and took a position next to the court reporter.

She faced the clerk—a small Hispanic man—and raised her right hand before he had a chance to ask her to do so.

“You do solemnly swear or affirm,” said the clerk in a slightly accented voice, “that the testimony you may give in the cause now pending before this Court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“Yes,” said Flemingdon. Her voice was quite deep.

“Please have a seat in the witness box and state and spell your first last names for the record,” said the clerk.

Flemingdon sat down. “My name is Dr. Anne Flemingdon. Anne an E: A-N-N-E; Flemingdon is spelled F-L-E-M-I-N-G, D as in David, O-N.”

“Thank you,” said the clerk.

“Dr. Flemingdon,” said Ziegler, looking up from a sheaf of notes she’d placed on the lectern, “are you a medical doctor licensed to practice medicine in the state of California?”

“I am.”

“By whom are you currently employed?”

“By the county of Los Angeles.”

“In what capacity?”

“I’m the chief medical examiner and coroner for the county.”

“In that capacity were you called upon to examine the body of Cletus Robert Calhoun?”

“I was.”

“Where was this examination performed?”

“I did the initial examination at the crime scene at Paul Valcour Hall, a residence facility located on the University Park campus of the University of Southern California. I did further work on the remains once they were collected and moved to my lab.”

“Your Honor, we would like to enter People’s exhibits one through twenty-five: photos of the corpse taken at the USC crime scene.”

“Mr. Rice?” said Pringle.

Dale exhaled. “Your Honor, we would like to preserve our objection.”

“Understood,” said Pringle. “Overruled.”

Three easels were brought in. Each one held up a board with several color photographs mounted on it. Flemingdon left the witness stand and went over to stand near them. The Court TV camera jockeyed to show her but not the photos.

Hask looked down at the cluttered surface of the defense table. Dale looked back; the other Tosoks were averting their eyes from the photos as well, although one of them—Ged, it was—kept surreptitiously peeking at them.

“Dr. Flemingdon,” said Ziegler, “could you please describe the cause of death?”

Flemingdon unclipped a slim black laser pointer from her inside jacket pocket. “Certainly,” she said. “Death was caused by severe hemorrhagic shock. Dr. Calhoun suffered almost complete exsanguination—that is, his body was almost completely drained of blood. As you can see here in photo number four”—her laser pointer danced, a bright red dot amid all the dark-red blood—“Dr. Calhoun’s right leg was severed from his body, by a diagonal cut that began just below his hip. The cut was incredibly clean, resulting in all the blood vessels in the leg, including the femoral artery, being sliced open. The femoral is the principal artery of the thigh, responsible for supplying blood to the leg, and because it was a diagonal cut, the opening was large. It was through this opening that most of Dr. Calhoun’s blood drained out.”

“Drained out?” said Ziegler, her eyebrows rising. “Surely it was more dramatic than that?”

“Well, yes. Until the loss of blood killed him, his heart would have been pumping, causing the blood to spurt out, actually.”

Dale looked at Katayama and shook his head. But—then again—maybe the Sam Peckinpah quality of all this would numb the jury… and a numb jury wouldn’t cry out for vengeance.

“How was this cut made?” asked Ziegler.

Flemingdon’s laser dot danced again. “It started on the outside of the right hip, just below the groin line, and proceeded diagonally, at about a forty-degree angle, in toward the inner thigh.”

“Actually, my question was meant to elicit what sort of implement was used to make the cut.”

Dale rolled his eyes. Flemingdon knew damn well what Ziegler had meant; they’d doubtless rehearsed her testimony. But that little show was for the jury’s benefit, to make it look as though they hadn’t planned it all out.

“Oh,” said Flemingdon. “Well, that’s a tough one. I can make a clean cut through flesh with a scalpel, but Dr. Calhoun was wearing pants—Levi’s blue jeans, to be precise.” A couple of jurors smiled—who could picture Calhoun in anything else? “The cutting implement passed cleanly through the denim fabric, through the skin, through the muscles, through the femoral artery, and right on through the femur—the thigh-bone. I’d normally need a bone saw to go through the femur, and would never use a scalpel on denim—it would dull the blade. But this cut was made absolutely cleanly, without any snagging even on the bone.”

“Are you sure it was a single cut?”

“Oh, yes. It aligns absolutely perfectly. One single slice was made through the pants and Dr. Calhoun’s leg.”

“What was the maximum diameter of Dr. Calhoun’s upper thigh?”

“A little over eight inches.”

“So if a knife was used, it had to have a blade at least eight inches long, correct?”

“Yes.”

“The sharpest knives made are surgical scalpels, yes?”

“Yes,” said Flemingdon.

“Do any scalpels have blades eight inches long?”

“No standard one does. Of course, medical-supply companies can custom-make surgical tools.”

“But in all your experience, you’ve never seen a scalpel with an eight-inch blade?”

“Objection,” said Dale. “Leading.”

“Sustained,” said Pringle. “Rephrase.”

Ziegler nodded at the judge. “What’s the largest scalpel you’ve ever seen?”

“I’ve seen one with a five-inch blade.”

“Nothing bigger?”

“No.”

“I’m sure the jury has noticed your fancy laser pointer, Doctor. Could the cut have been made by a laser beam?”

“No. A laser is a burning tool—it uses high temperatures to cut. It would have singed the denim, as well as Dr. Calhoun’s skin, and the hairs on his thigh. And a laser—well, a laser doesn’t leave arteries and veins open. Rather, it cauterizes them—sears them shut. That’s why we use laser scalpels for delicate surgery: they sever and seal blood vessels simultaneously. No, this cut was not made with a burning implement.”

“Thank you. Let’s leave the leg cut for the moment. What about the rest of the injuries?”

Flemingdon turned to the photos, pointing with her laser. “The corpse had been severely—well, mutilated is probably the right word. The chest cavity had been carved open, and the ribs spread wide. Organs had been removed and scattered about, and the head was severed from the body.”

“You said a moment ago that ‘mutilated’ is probably the right word. Why the hesitation in word choice?”

“Well, it was mutilation, by the dictionary definition: ‘depriving of limbs or other essential parts, and/or irreparably disfiguring or damaging.’ But, well, whether the goal was to mutilate or not, I can’t be sure.”

“What do you mean by the ‘goal,’ Dr. Flemingdon?”

“The purpose. This could have just as easily been a deliberate medical dissection, rather than an attempt to disfigure.”

“Objection,” said Dale. “Speculation. Move to strike.”

“Dr. Flemingdon is certainly qualified to offer an expert opinion in this area,” said Ziegler, looking up at the judge.

“Overruled,” said Pringle.

“What makes you say it might have been a dissection, Doctor?”

“The thoroughness, for one. Disfigurement is often localized—the face will be scarred, or the genitals or breasts will be carved up. This process seemed to concentrate on no one part of the anatomy—or, more precisely, it seemed to involve every part of the anatomy.”

“Would it be fair to say that whoever performed the procedures on this body had expert medical knowledge?”

“Yes and no.”

“ ‘Yes and no,’ ” repeated Ziegler. “What do you mean by that?”

“Yes, he or she clearly knew how to use surgical instruments. For instance, Ms. Ziegler, if I were to hand you or anyone else who had never used one before a scalpel and asked you to carve into a body, you’d likely make a tentative trial cut first—this would show as a hesitation mark, or shallow wound. Whoever dissected Dr. Calhoun showed no such inexperience. I would judge that the person doing it was quite familiar with dissecting technique.”

“Then your answer is yes—the person did have expert medical knowledge.”

“Expert knowledge of equipment, Ms. Ziegler. But the process by which the dissection was done was almost haphazard. No one who knew what they were doing would have spread the ribs in the way it had been done in this case; there are much easier methods. It was almost as if the person doing it, although familiar with general medical techniques, had no specific knowledge of human anatomy.”

At the defense table, Dale sighed. Ziegler had doubtless coached Flemingdon to volunteer this idea, neatly preventing Dale from objecting to a question that invited speculation from the witness.

“No specific knowledge of human anatomy?” repeated Ziegler.

“Yes.”

“Can you give further examples that support this conclusion?”

“Well, whoever did the cutting opened the stomach up before removing it from the chest cavity—resulting in gastric acid spilling into the torso. If you’d known in advance that the stomach contained acid, you’d have removed it as a unit and dissected it separately.”

“Thank you. Did you conduct an inventory of body parts?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you do that?”

“In murder cases involving disfigurement or dismembering, it’s not unusual for the killer to keep a souvenir of the crime.”

“A souvenir?”

“Yes—a finger, perhaps, or, in some sex-related crimes, part of the genitals.”

“So you inventoried Dr. Calhoun’s body parts. What did you find?”

“Several pieces were missing.”

“Which parts specifically, Doctor?”

“The right eye was gone.”

Intake of breath from jurors four and six; Dale had identified both of them as queasy during voir dire, but had been unable to get them excused.

“The eye was removed?” repeated Ziegler, as if surprised by this piece of news.

“Yes.”

“By the same cutting tool?”

“Well, sort of. The eyeball was prized from the socket, possibly by fingers, but the muscles and optic nerve were indeed severed cleanly, quite probably by the same tool, yes.”

“Was anything else missing?”

“The vermiform process.”

“ ‘The vermiform process,’ ” repeated Ziegler. She looked at the jury. “Is there another name by which we might be more familiar with that, Doctor?”

“It’s commonly called the appendix.”

“The same appendix that’s down here?” She touched her lower right side.

“The one that’s prone to appendicitis?”

“That’s right.”

“How was it removed?”

“Well, not the normal way—that is, not like we do it in an appendectomy, going in from outside. Rather it was clipped out during the internal dissection.”

“Are you sure about this?” said Ziegler. “Couldn’t his appendix have been removed years before? Lots of people have no appendix—I don’t myself.”

“There was no appendectomy scar on Calhoun’s body, and no signs of an old operation internally. Still, I did check with Calhoun’s personal physician and his health-insurance company. The doctor had no record of Calhoun ever having appendicitis, and the insurer has no claim on file for an appendectomy operation.”

“Was anything else missing?”

“Yes. Dr. Calhoun’s lower jaw and neck were gone.”

More mock surprise. “His neck?”

“Yes, that’s right. I said the head was severed from the body. In fact, the highest vertebra intact in the torso was the first thoracic one. And the head had no vertebrae left attached to it. All seven cervical vertebrae were gone, along with the throat and the Adam’s apple. Also missing was the mandible—the lower jaw.”

“Do you have any idea why the perpetrator would take these particular body parts, Doctor?”

“No.”

“Are you sure that it wasn’t the removal of these body parts that caused Dr. Calhoun’s death?”

“I’m sure. He was dead by the time they were removed.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well, you can tell by the pattern of blood splattering that the opening of the chest was done after the heart had stopped beating. Likewise the decapitation: in fact, there was very little blood left in the body by the time the head was severed. And the removal of the eye—well, it takes a lot of force to pull out an eye. If this had happened while Dr. Calhoun was still alive, there’d be bruising on his right cheek and the right side of his nose. As you can see here in photo fourteen, there’s none of that.”

“Thank you,” said Ziegler. She turned to the jury. “And my apologies for the gruesome nature of the testimony—we should be on less gory ground from now on. I hope you all understand why it was necessary.” She looked at Dale. “Your witness, counselor.”

Dale rose. Damn, but Ziegler was good. She’d apologized for the graphic testimony, and promised the jury it was over—meaning Dale would look insensitive by going over it again in his cross. “Dr. Flemingdon,” he said, “you spoke about ‘hesitation marks.’ ”

“Yes?”

“The tentative initial cuts made by someone unfamiliar with using a knife?”

“That’s right. They’re best known as a feature of wrist-cutting suicides, but medical students make them all the time, too, until they’re used to working with scalpels.”

“Medical students,” repeated Dale.

“Yes.”

“Human medical students.”

“Ah, well, yes. Yes, but—”

“No ‘buts,’ Doctor. Now, let’s talk about the missing body parts. Dr. Flemingdon, wouldn’t you say that Cletus Calhoun was a celebrity?”

“Well, this is Los Angeles, Mr. Rice. I’m sure Mr. Calhoun is a big fish wherever he’s from—”

“Pigeon Forge, Tennessee.”

“Right, well, by Pigeon Forge standards, I’m sure he’s a big name, but out here? He was on PBS, for God’s sake.”

A few snickers from the spectators. Judge Pringle rapped her gavel to silence them.

“Actually,” said Dale, “Dolly Parton is also from Pigeon Forge.”

“You make my point, counselor. Even in Tennessee, he wasn’t that big a name.”

“I’m not sure everyone would agree,” said Dale, turning to look at the jury.

“I’m sure many of the people on the jury considered Dr. Calhoun to be quite a celebrity.”

“Objection,” said Ziegler, spreading her hands. “I fail to see the relevance.”

“I’m frankly baffled, too,” said Pringle. “Mr. Rice?”

“A couple more moments, if you please, Your Honor.”

“Very well—but do get to the point.”

“My pleasure. Dr. Flemingdon, didn’t your lab handle the death last year of rock singer Billy Williger?”

Flemingdon stiffened. “Yes.”

“And didn’t parts of Mr. Williger’s body go missing from your lab?”

“Yes.”

“And were you reprimanded for that?”

Teeth clenched. “Yes.”

“So body parts in your charge have disappeared before?”

“I’ve already said yes.”

“And we have only your word for the fact that the parts you enumerated were taken by the perpetrator.”

“The crime-scene photos show the missing jaw and the missing eye.”

“Not exactly—none of the crime-scene photos show those parts, but the photos hardly cover the entire room.”

“You have my word that the parts were missing.”

“Yes—your word. After all, it wouldn’t do to have another case of overeager fans stealing body parts from your morgue, would it?”

“Billy Williger was a huge star, Mr. Rice. I’m not familiar with astronomers having obsessive groupies.”

Laughter from the audience; Pringle was suppressing a chuckle herself.

“The defense would be glad to introduce Dr. Calhoun’s fan mail into evidence,” said Dale. “But so far, we have a murder mystery whose most mysterious elements rest on the testimony of someone who has lost body parts before.”

“Objection,” said Ziegler. “Mr. Rice is arguing his case.”

“Sustained,” said Pringle. “You’ve made your point, Mr. Rice. Move on.”

“You mentioned that body parts are sometimes removed by human murderers,” said Dale.

“Yes.”

“For what purpose?”

“Well, as I said, a souvenir of the crime.”

“Isn’t it true that parts are sometimes removed for cannibalism?”

“Yes.”

“Or as trophies from a sex slaying?”

“Yes.”

“Define ‘cannibalism’ for us, Doctor.”

“It’s—well, it’s the eating of human flesh.”

“That’s not quite right. It’s actually the eating of the flesh of one’s own kind, isn’t it? When members of one species of fish eat other members of that same species, we say they’re practicing cannibalism, don’t we?”

“Umm, yes.”

“So, the removal of parts for cannibalism would be possible only between members of the same species, no?”

“You’re arguing semantics, Mr. Rice.”

“And a sex slaying—again, sex is performed between members of the same species, isn’t that right?”

“Usually.”

“There’s no reason to think that a Tosok would have either cannibalistic or sexual interest in human body parts, is there?”

“Well, no.”

“But there are countless cases involving human murderers in which body parts are taken for those reasons?”

Reluctantly: “There are many such cases, yes.”

“Thank you, Dr. Flemingdon,” said Dale.

“Redirect?” asked Judge Pringle.

Ziegler shook her head.