A Cold Day in Hell Page 27
“And you still called your wife at 11:02?”
“Yes. I wanted to let her know I’d be later than I thought.”
“But the night she was murdered, your last call was at 8:02? You didn’t think to call that night to say you’d be spending the night away again?”
“Objection!”
“Sustained. Rephrase.”
Vioalnti kept up the barrage. “Why didn’t you call your wife again that night? Or text her the next morning? Why was your next call to Carl Church?”
“I already said Jennifer and I had fallen asleep. I tried to rush home so Katherine wouldn’t know what time it was when I got in. Anita said she’d been calling her all night—”
“You expect me to believe a man who calls and texts his wife twenty-one times on a typical day, from the minute she gets up until the second she goes to bed, would conveniently fall asleep and forget to call her on the night she was murdered?”
“Objection!” Church was starting to sound a little desperate to end this line of questioning.
“Sustained.”
Violanti crossed back over to the defense table and retrieved a small round object encased in a plastic evidence bag. He had the court clerk number it and enter it into evidence. He held it out to Anthony Vine. Vine made no move to take it from him.
“Do you know what this is?”
“No.”
Violanti practically shoved it under his nose. “Why don’t you take it and examine it before you say no?”
Vine took the bag, gave it the slightest glance over, and handed it back. “I don’t know what it is.”
“Your Honor, let the record reflect that the people have already stipulated to the State Police Forensics lab’s report that this device marked Defense Item 47 is a Global Positioning System tracking device that was found attached to the underside of Katherine Vine’s Mercedes.”
“So noted.”
Violanti now held the bag up high, so the jury could see. “Mr. Vine, do you have any idea how a tracking device became attached to your wife’s car?”
“No, I do not.”
“You didn’t have it put there to keep track of her?”
His voice was full of red hot hatred for the little defense attorney. “No, I did not.”
“You’ve never seen this device?”
“No.”
Lauren could practically see the steam coming out of Vine’s ears. Violanti had him enraged.
“Did you ever drive the Mercedes your wife was killed in?”
“Once in a while, not often, like to unblock the driveway or put it in the garage. I want to sell it, but they said I should keep it until after the trial.”
Violanti ignored that last part. “She was the primary user of the vehicle?”
“Yes.”
“So she would be the most likely target of someone tracking the movements of the car?”
“Objection,” Church said. “Calls for a conclusion.”
The judge agreed. “Sustained.”
Violanti repositioned himself to give the jurors a better view of Anthony Vine’s expression. “Mr. Vine, are you aware that devices such as this can transmit their data to a cell phone with Internet capability?”
“No, I wasn’t,” he snapped, “but that’s very informative.”
“Does your phone have such capabilities?’
“I have several phones, but yes, they all have Internet access. I have to stay connected with my business.”
“Do you sometimes carry more than one phone?”
“Sometimes,” Vine admitted. “I have some strictly for business and one that’s personal.”
“Were you carrying more than one the night your wife was murdered?”
Vine looked him straight in the eye and growled. “I don’t remember.”
Violanti nodded, as if that was the answer he expected. “Mr. Vine,” he continued, “did you have a life insurance policy on your wife, Katherine Vine?”
Vine’s eyes darted from Violanti to Carl Church, who knew better than to object to the question. Even a lowly detective like Lauren knew it was definitely fair game. “Yes.”
“And how much does that policy pay out, Mr. Vine?”
Vine swallowed hard. “Two million dollars.”
Violanti leaned in. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that. Could you repeat that for the jury?”
“Two million dollars,” he choked out roughly, contempt dripping from his voice.
“Two million dollars,” Frank Violanti repeated. “Did you receive the money yet?”
Vine took a deep, stuttering breath. “No.”
“Is that because the insurance adjustors want to know the outcome of the trial first?”
“Objection!” Church called out.
“I’ll rephrase,” Violanti volunteered. “Isn’t it true that if you were a suspect, the insurance company would withhold payout?”
“But I’m not a suspect,” Vine shot back.
“How convenient for you.” Violanti stepped back from the stand before Church could object. “No further questions at this time, but I would like to recall the witness later.”
“Granted.” The judge made a note on the paper in front of him. “Call your next witness.”
Violanti turned to Lauren sitting in the gallery as Anthony Vine stalked off the stand. He gave her a wink and retrieved his papers from the witness stand.
All things considered, Lauren thought, this was a very, very good day.
79
The prosecution rested on the third day of the trial. Church presented Dr. Mazur from the county lab to testify about the DNA evidence as their last witness. Lauren considered Dr. Mazur a friend, as he loved to go over cold evidence with her and Reese. He would pore over the crime scene pictures with them, picking out items to test, commenting on the latest breakthroughs. He always told them the DNA was the icing on the cake but they were the ones who had to bake the cake, meaning put the case in context for his DNA grand finale.
Dr. John Mazur was a tiny, shriveled man with a large port wine stain birthmark that stretched from his left cheek to his ear. He hated to come out of his lab, much less to testify. He never looked Lauren in the eye when he talked, always somewhere up and to the left. He loved his numbers and data and charts; people, not so much. Now he squirmed nervously in his seat, picking at imaginary lint on his lab coat, refusing to look at Carl Church. First, he explained to the jurors how DNA was collected and stored. Then he went on to educate them on the process of extracting DNA from items submitted to the police. Church rolled around to the specifics of the Katherine Vine case. He went over the reports in painstaking detail.
Mazur testified that the DNA found under the victim’s nails was a match to David Ryan Spencer to the tune of 1 in 26 quadrillion. Quadrillion. Lauren knew that kind of number would blow the juror’s minds, especially when the doctor explained that 26 quadrillion people was billions more than had ever lived on the planet and probably ever would. He then went on to testify that no other male DNA was found under her nails. Mazur quietly told the jurors about the semen found in her body that came back to David Ryan Spencer with the same startling numbers. The jury now looked over at David, eyes narrowing. When Carl Church was finished with him, Violanti had no further questions. Lauren knew his reasoning. Science was science. Why do more damage?
When Dr. Mazur stepped down and shuffled out of the room, Church declared that the prosecution rested. Judge O’Keefe asked Violanti if he was ready to proceed. With an affirmative answer from the defense, the judge then declared, “Call your first witness.”
“The defense calls Jennifer Jackson.”
A ripple went through the crowded courtroom as everyone turned to watch Jennifer walk in. She had on an expensive-looking silk dress. Lauren took in the sleeveless black sheath that showed off her
muscular arms, toned from years of tennis. Her painfully high heels clicked all the way to the witness stand. Jennifer’s short-cropped hair was carefully gelled away from her face, but her eyes were puffy and red. If Lauren had to guess, she would’ve said that Jennifer must have taken something medicinal in preparation for this cross-examination. If Jackson was expecting to see Anthony Vine, he was tucked away in a conference room two floors down, waiting to be recalled to the stand. Jennifer stole a glance at Vine’s people, who were taking up an entire row near the middle of the courtroom. They stared her down as she took the stand. They were all big, muscular, middle-aged hangers on who did Vine’s bidding. Jennifer didn’t look at them after she was sworn in, but stared straight ahead at Frank Violanti, as if waiting for a guillotine to chop her head off.
“How are you today, Mrs. Jackson?”
“Fine.” Her voice was barely a whisper. Violanti adjusted the microphone so that it was closer to her mouth.
“Mrs. Jackson, do you know Anthony Vine?”
“Yes.”
“From where do you know Mr. Vine?”
“He employs me as a spokesperson for his gym franchises.”
“Do you have a relationship with Mr. Vine other than professionally?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of relationship do you have with Anthony Vine, aside from your professional one?”
“Objection! Mr. Vine’s relationship with Miss Jackson was fully disclosed by Mr. Vine himself.”
Violanti looked at Church, then back to the judge. “Its relevance will be made crystal clear if you allow me to continue.”
“I’ll allow it, Mr. Violanti, but don’t beat a dead horse.”
He turned back to Jennifer Jackson. “Please answer my question.”
She shifted in her seat. “We were lovers for a year.”
“Were lovers?”
“I broke it off with him after his wife’s death.”
“At the time of his wife’s death, you were lovers?”
Her voice was small. “Yes.”
“And Mr. Vine testified that on the night of his wife’s death, he was with you?”
“Yes.”
He went on gently, “You were with him at his waterfront condominium?”
“Yes.”
“Your Honor, if it pleases the court, I’d like to play Defense Exhibit 34. It’s a time- and date-stamped video of the intersection of Lower Terrace and West Eagle Streets taken by the city monitoring system. I’d also like to move into evidence this custody control sheet.”
Lauren knew that was her cue. Getting up, she walked to the back of the courtroom and rolled a video monitor toward the stand. While Church objected and the two lawyers argued about the admissibility of the tapes as evidence, Violanti had Lauren set up the monitor to face the judge, jury, and witness. Working slowly and carefully, Lauren retrieved a second one, placing it against the wall, so that the prosecution and gallery could see. The judge allowed the tape into evidence eventually and made Church sit down with the copies of the paperwork Violanti had provided for him. Handing Violanti the remote, Lauren returned to her seat in the gallery next to Reese.
After everything was marked and noted, he powered up the screens. Lauren had made sure the video was cued to the Lexus approaching the intersection and being stopped at a red light. Although the license plate was clearly visible, the driver was obscured by the reflection of the darkly tinted glass.
Violanti paused the tape. “Can you tell me, Mrs. Jackson, whose vehicle this is?”
She blinked her eyes, trying to fight back tears. Her voice was choked. “Mine.”
“I’m sorry, could you speak up?”
“It’s my car,” she blurted out.
“From eight o’clock on the evening in question until six thirty that next morning, did Anthony Vine leave that condominium for any reason?”
“Objection!” Church was on his feet. “May I approach?”
The judge motioned both counselors up to the bench. It was supposed to be out of earshot of the jury but both attorneys were so worked up their voices carried loud and clear throughout the courtroom. Maybe, Lauren thought, a little purposefully on Violanti’s part. “Sir,” Church practically panted in rage, “I have a sworn statement from the witness that says Mr. Vine never left. Mr. Violanti is supporting perjury of this witness—”
“If I may be allowed to continue with my questioning and present my evidence, Mr. Church can feel free to cross examine the witness as to what she lied about.”
“That sounds about right, Mr. Church. Have a seat.”
Violanti floated back toward Jennifer Jackson unruffled. “Did Mr. Vine leave the condominium?”
Jackson slumped into her seat. “He said he had to get condoms.”
“What time did he leave?”
“I’m not sure, before midnight.”
“How long was he gone?”
“About an hour.”
“Doesn’t that seem like an awfully long time to get condoms?”
Church sounded to Lauren like he was about to lose his mind: “Objection!”
Violanti didn’t miss a beat. “And can you tell me who is driving this vehicle at that time?”
“Anthony Vine took my car because he said his car was too noticeable.”
“Why would his car be too noticeable?”
“It has the words VINE TIME! written in red letters across the rear bumper.”
Violanti nodded, then fast-forwarded through the video, allowing the jury to see the minutes ticking away. The car came into view again, but this time it caught a green light. The back of the car was clearly visible as going through the intersection. Violanti paused the tape again. “Is this your car?”
“Yes, that’s my car.”
“Who is driving it?”
“Objection!” Church called out. “You can’t see from that picture who is driving the vehicle!”
“Sustained.”
Violanti pressed forward. “Did Anthony Vine return from buying condoms?”
“Yes.” Her voice was small and pinched.
“Did your car return as well?”
“Yes.”
“What was Mr. Vine’s demeanor like the night of Katherine Vine’s murder?”
“Objection. Calls for speculation.”
Violanti cocked an eyebrow. “I think Ms. Jackson is in a unique position to accurately gauge Mr. Vine’s mood at the time of the murder.”
The judge nodded. “I’ll allow some leeway. The witness may answer.”
“He kept checking his phone,” Jackson replied. “He has one of those smart phones with all the crazy apps on it. He kept playing with it and checking it.”
“Was that before he left?”
“Before and after. When we finally laid down to catch some sleep, I had to tell him to put it away. The next thing I knew, it was morning and he was gone.”
“Was that usual for him?”
“Yes. He always tried to leave before his wife would wake up, but he always left a note for me. That morning, he didn’t.”
“What time did you wake up on the morning in question?”
She dragged her forearm across her nose, soaking her sleeve with snot. Lauren wanted to hand her the box of tissues sitting on the court clerk’s desk. “About eight.”
“What time did you learn about the murder?”
“As I was driving home. I heard it on the radio.”
“You heard it on the radio? He didn’t call you right away?”
“Why would he?” she sniffed. “I was just his girlfriend. His wife just got murdered. I guess he had other things on his mind.”
“When did you last speak to Anthony Vine?”
“That night. He was crying and we made a date to meet after the funeral.”
“So it seems, at some point that day, you were on his mind.” Before Church could jump up he went on, “Did you keep the meeting?”
“I did. We met at his office. I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea if we saw each other for a while. He agreed.”
“Did you know that Katherine Vine had a tracking device on her car?”
“No, but he always seemed to know where she was.”
Church cut Violanti’s next question off. “Objection. She is in no position to know what Anthony Vine knows.”
The judge agreed. “The jury will disregard that last statement.”
Violanti continued, “Did you give a sworn statement to Detective Joseph Wheeler?”
“Yes.”
“In that statement, were you asked if you or Anthony Vine ever left his condominium that night?”
“Yes.”
“What was your answer then?”
“I lied and said no.”
“Why did you lie?”
“I didn’t want to make it seem like Anthony could be a suspect and hurt the case against David Spencer.”
“Did Anthony Vine tell you to lie?”
“Objection! Hearsay!” Church’s face was almost purple now.
“Sustained.” Judge O’Keefe’s voice had a warning tone in it. But Lauren could see Violanti was going for the full effect and wanted to push the envelope as far as he could with this witness.
“Did you and Anthony discuss the case against David Spencer?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ask you how you were going to testify today?”
“Yes.”
“And did you tell him?” Violanti asked. “That you were going to tell the truth?”
“I told him I didn’t know. Not for sure. I mean, he thought you might call me, but he wasn’t sure. I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry for his wife.” A tear fell from her nose onto the wooded rail of the witness box. “I really am. I can’t believe someone killed her.”
“Are you still in a relationship with Anthony Vine?”
More tears spilled down her cheeks. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Like I said, I broke it off. Right after the murder.”
“Have you spoken to Anthony Vine since you broke it off?”