Mickey Haller 4 - The Fifth Witness

attack?”
    “I did.”
    “Doesn’t that contradict what you just said about ducking from the blow? Which is it, Doctor?”
    Feeling cornered, Gutierrez reacted in the way most cornered men do. With arrogance.
    “My testimony is that we do not know exactly what happened in that garage or what posture the victim was in or what the orientation of his skull was when he was struck with the fatal blow. To be minutely guessing and second-guessing at this point is a fool’s errand.”
    “You are saying it is foolish to attempt to understand what happened in the garage?”
    “No! I am not saying that at all. You are taking the words and twisting them.”
    Freeman had to do something. She stood and objected and said I was badgering the witness. I wasn’t and the judge said as much, but the little interruption was enough for Gutierrez to collect himself and resume his calm and superior demeanor. I decided to wrap things up. I had largely been using Dr. Guts as a setup man for my own expert, who would testify during the defense phase. I believed I was almost there.
    “Doctor, would you agree that if we could determine the victim’s posture and the orientation of his skull at the time of that first, fatal blow, then we would have insight as to the angle at which the murder weapon was held?”
    Gutierrez considered the question for longer than it had taken me to ask it, then reluctantly nodded.
    “Yes, it would give us some insight. But it is imposs—”
    “Thank you, Doctor. My next question is if we knew all of these things—the posture, the orientation, the angle of the weapon—wouldn’t we then be able to make some assumptions about the height of the attacker?”
    “It doesn’t make sense. We can’t know these things.”
    He held both his hands up in frustration and turned to look at the judge for help. He got none.
    “Doctor, you are not answering the question. Let me ask you again. If we did indeed know all of these factors, could we then make assumptions about the attacker’s height?”
    He dropped his hands in an I give up gesture.
    “Of course, of course. But we do not know these factors.”
    “ ‘We,’ Doctor? Don’t you mean you don’t know these factors because you didn’t look for them?”
    “No, I—”
    “Don’t you mean you didn’t want to know these factors because they would reveal that it was physically impossible for the defendant, at five foot three, to have ever committed—”
    “Objection!”
    “—this crime against a man ten inches taller than her?”
    Luckily they no longer used gavels in California courtrooms. Perry would have smashed his through the bench.
    “Sustained! Sustained! Sustained!”
    I picked up my pad and flipped over all the folded back pages in a show of frustration and finality.
    “I have nothing further for—”
    “Mr. Haller,” the judge barked, “I have warned you repeatedly about acting out in front of the jury. Consider this your last warning. Next time, there will be consequences.”
    “Noted, Your Honor. Thank you.”
    “The jury will disregard the last exchange between counsel and the witness. It is stricken from the record.”
    I sat down, not daring to glance at the jury box. But that was okay, I felt the vibe. Their eyes were on me. They were riding with me.
    Not all of them, but enough.

Thirty-eight
    I spent the lunch hour schooling Lisa Trammel on what to expect during the afternoon session of court. Herb Dahl was not present, having been dispatched on a phony errand so I could be alone with my client. As best I could, I tried to explain to her the risks we would be taking as the prosecution’s case wound down and the defense took center stage. She was scared, but she trusted me and that’s about all you can ask from a client. The truth? No. But trust? Yes.
    Once court reconvened Freeman called Dr. Henrietta Stanley to the witness stand. She identified herself as a supervising biologist for the Los Angeles Regional Crime Laboratory at Cal State L.A. My guess was that she would be the last witness for the prosecution and her testimony would have two parts of major significance. She would confirm that DNA testing of the blood found on the recovered hammer matched Mitchell Bondurant’s DNA perfectly and that the blood found on Lisa Trammel’s gardening shoe also matched the victim’s.
    The scientific testimony would bring the case full circle, with blood being the link. My only intention was to rob the prosecution of the