In an effort to score a few quick and final points to neutralize some of the damage done by Madison, Warwick concluded his case by calling two witnesses: one was an expert on rape who testified that many women do not come forward immediately following the assault because of the embarrassment and grilling they would have to face at trial. It was therefore perfectly understandable, the expert psychologist testified, that Harding did not go to the police earlier. In fact, she pointed out, look what happened when she did decide to file a complaint-no charges were brought and no arrest was made.
On cross-examination, Denton elicited her concession that the reason no charges were filed was not that she came forward as a rape victim, and not that the police did not believe her, but that there was no definitive evidence to support a successful prosecution.
Denton leaned toward the psychologist. “In fact, her quest for money overshadowed her concern for finding justice, didn’t it?”
“I don’t follow you.”
“She hired an attorney to bring a civil case. And once her monetary demands were met, she withdrew the criminal complaint before the police even had the chance to complete their investigation.”
“Objection.”
“Withdrawn,” Denton said, smirking as he walked back to his seat. “Nothing further.” Although the comment had been withdrawn from the record, his point had been cemented in the minds of the jury. He viewed this exchange with the psychologist as a victory, but could not help but wonder what the female members of the panel would be thinking relative to Harding’s being portrayed as a rape victim. Sympathy to any degree could be deadly when dealing with reasonable doubt.
Warwick’s other expert, hastily arranged, testified as to the shortfalls of DNA testing. As soon as Warwick inquired about the weaknesses of PCR analysis, before the researcher could render an opinion, Denton requested a sidebar. He warned that if Warwick persisted in this line of questioning, he would request permission to reopen the prosecution’s case, as he expected to have the results of the RFLP testing within a day or two. He was confident of the outcome and would use the findings as rebuttal testimony.
Calvino asked Warwick if he was the gambling type. “Make the perceived weakness of PCR analysis the cornerstone of your case, counselor, and it could be blown clear out of the water should the RFLP test results corroborate the results of the PCR testing.”
Warwick chose to abandon his line of questioning, requesting the right to recall the witness should the RFLP test results support the defense’s position. The expert’s testimony was essentially reduced to harmless rubble and a few impromptu and pointless questions about the dangers of contamination and degradation. Denton promptly fired back the same questions he had asked his own expert, Dr. Ross, about how contamination or degradation could cause the results to match Harding’s DNA pattern. The answer was that it could not, and the witness was disposed of harmlessly.
Thus far, much to Denton’s satisfaction, there were no surprises during trial. He only hoped that the jury was seeing the events and circumstances as clearly as he viewed them. Although Warwick elected not to put Harding on the stand, a wise move considering her unpredictable and socially abrasive nature, the jury had been force-fed a dose of what she was truly like by the prosecution’s witnesses: from delusional nuisance to plotting extortionist to vengeful murderer.
The judge, having gestured to the court recorder, cleared his throat. “Mr. Denton.”
Denton remained seated, as was his custom when beginning his closing argument. “This was a gruesome murder of two innocent people, ladies and gentlemen. No one in this courtroom will dispute that. What will be debated, and what has been the subject of this trial, is who did it. Well, we feel that we know who did it. And we’ve presented evidence to you these past couple of weeks showing you who, how-and why. We’ve shown you the character of the person who stands accused over there,” he said, throwing out his finger and pointing at Harding, “and we’ve shown you the events which led up to her eventual action that resulted in the deaths of the two innocent victims. These people didn’t die because anyone had anything against them. No, they were true victims in the sense that they had nothing to do with what precipitated the anger that built beyond proportion-and beyond control-in Brittany Harding’s mind.
“The aggression in this case was focused against Dr. Phillip Madison, a well-respected surgeon in this community. And what did he do to deserve this aggression? Well, nothing, any reasonable person would conclude. But the defendant took exception to having lost her job due to her own inadequacies, and held it against Dr. Madison. While most of us would simply have gotten angry, maybe yelled a bit, written a nasty letter…the defendant sought revenge. She came forward with a bogus rape complaint-you heard the lack of evidence-and when she tried to extort money from him, an attempt which ultimately failed, she cranked up the stakes of revenge a bit more. She tried to turn his wife against him.
“But she didn’t stop there. She stole his car and went to the streets of our community in an attempt to commit murder, all the while setting the situation up as if Dr. Madison had done it in a drunken stupor. But she didn’t figure on one thing: the fact that our investigative process is largely assisted nowadays by science: in this case, DNA, saliva, and lip print analysis. She didn’t know that we would be able to extract her saliva and genetic code-a fingerprint, if you will, off the beer cans she planted in his car in an attempt to implicate him.
“She tried to fool the police. She tried to fool me. She tried to fool you, ladies and gentlemen. But it didn’t work, did it? No, we saw her for who she is, and what she’s about.
“I ask you to look carefully at the evidence, at the defendant’s state of mind, at her character, at the witnesses who have testified before you under oath. You have to ask yourself: did the defendant have the ability to commit this heinous crime? Let’s look at it first from a physical perspective. This crime did not require any unusual amount of strength-just an unusual amount of gall. Leeza Madison noticed that her keys to her husband’s car and garage were missing shortly after the defendant was in their home. Dr. Madison testified that he’d fallen asleep watching the evening news-the same statement he’d made to the police when they first began their investigation-so he never did get to arm his house alarm. So I ask you, was it possible for Brittany Harding to walk up to the garage, a separate structure that was on the opposite side of the three-story house from Dr. Madison’s bedroom, unlock the door with the key, start his car, and drive off? I believe the answer is obvious. Did she take a chance that the alarm was already set? Most definitely. But did she even know that there was an alarm?
“There was no way for the defendant to know. At the very least, she was taking a chance. But that requires levelheaded, prudent, objective thought processes, and I remind you that as the psychiatrist, Dr. Hall, testified, revenge is an act of desperation, and involves obsessive behavior. She was fixated on one goal: revenge against Dr. Madison. So in this instance, it was not just a matter of whether or not she was able to kill these two people, it was whether or not the defendant exercised prudence in weighing the reward of revenge against the consequences of getting caught. Clearly, as Dr. Madison and Mark Stanton, her former employer, testified, she has established a pattern of seeking the reward of revenge over the risk of retribution.
“Then there is the issue of the market incident. Ronald Norling, the grocery clerk, was only interested in telling the truth of what he had seen and heard. He doesn’t know Dr. Madison or Miss Harding-he has no ax to grind, no bias, if you will, whatsoever. We know why the defendant did what she’s accused of doing because, aside from the physical evidence implicating her, she told us what she was going to do. She made her intentions quite clear. The last time she threatened to do something-when she accused Dr. Madison of rape and screamed that she was going to go to the police and make him pay-she did just that. And when she screamed at him in a crowded market that she would make him pay and get even with him-she did just that. Or tried to.
“Ladies and gentlemen, what more do we need? I would submit that we don’t need anything more to establish guilt on the part of the defendant.
“But we do have more. We have scientific evidence that underscores her involvement in this act of violence. Oh, the defendant’s attorney will tell you that just because her genetic fingerprints are on the beer cans found in the car does not mean she was driving it. That’s true. But I ask you, who else would have been driving it? Why would the defendant’s genetic fingerprints be found on beer cans inside the car if she were not a party to this crime?
“And I remind you that the only eyewitness to the aftermath of this murder said that he saw a Chicago Cubs hat on the driver of the vehicle as it passed by him. Such a hat was found in the defendant’s home, because she’s a longtime fan of the team. And I remind you, this is not Chicago. There aren’t a plethora of Cubs fans in Sacramento, California.”
Denton paused, walked a few steps over to the prosecution table. He leaned back against the front edge of it and crossed his arms on his chest. “In my opening statement, I asked you all to concentrate on the facts of the case and on what the witnesses had to say. I told you that if you did that, and did not allow yourselves to be swayed by fantasies, far-reaching theories, or confusing curves that the defense attorney would throw at you, then the answer to your question of guilt will be black and white. It would be simple, I told you.” He stood up straight and began to walk toward them again. “It is simple, ladies and gentlemen. I didn’t say easy, because it’s never easy to find someone guilty of murder. But simple, because the facts so clearly support it.”
He stopped in front of the jury box, rested his hands on the railing. Looked at each of them, making eye contact as he spoke. “Mr. Warwick, in his opening, said that he didn’t need to prove anything to you-which is good for him, because he didn’t prove anything. Because he couldn’t.” Denton leaned forward. “But we did. We proved our case, met our burden of proof. You must tell everyone in this great nation that murder for revenge will not go unpunished. Ladies and gentlemen, do your duty. Find the defendant guilty, as charged. Thank you.”
A low-level murmur erupted from the gallery; the reporters were writing furiously, phone sat the ready. As soon as Warwick finished his statement, the journalists covering the trial for radio would call in and report live, while those handling it for television would choose an appropriate backdrop for filming their remote spot. Bloggers and local print journalists would begin transmitting their bytes from their laptops, tablets, and smartphones within seconds.
Calvino cracked his gavel and asked for quiet. He nodded to Warwick. The lanky public defender stood, buttoned his sport coat, and approached the jury box. He stopped, and smiled. “Good morning. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as you have surmised, we have now reached that part of the case known as closing argument in which each of the lawyers has an opportunity to tell you what his case is about. You’ve already heard the district attorney’s position.
“In my opening, I told you that the evidence that the prosecution had against my client was circumstantial. Not the best type of evidence. In fact, none of it is direct evidence. Because there is no direct evidence linking my client to this crime. No one saw her commit the crime.
“Oh, yeah, there’s a witness who saw someone wearing a Cubs cap. Well, the last time I looked, being a Cubs fan did not make someone a murderer. And we also must remember that based upon this same witness’s description, the police arrested a male initially, not a female.
“My client is not an angel. She’s not a model citizen. I won’t insult your intelligence by standing up here and saying that she is. But her past actions were not precursors to murder. Poor judgment, misguided ethics, for sure. But murder?” He spread his arms out, palms up, pleading his case. “I think not. I know not.”
“And this incident in the market. My client has what some call ‘verbal diarrhea.’ She runs off at the mouth,” he clarified, to some stifled laughter. “But again, I ask you…does this make her a murderer? It does not. She was angry, she was frustrated-whether you feel she was right or justified is irrelevant. But when she came face-to-face with the man who represented her frustrations, she yelled something at him. Did she really mean what she said? Of course not. We all, at one time or another, say things that we regret, that we don’t mean. We’ve all said things that we wish we could, take back because they were said in the heat of the moment. The DA wants you to believe that she was announcing to a crowded market her intentions to commit murder. My client may not be an angel, but she is certainly not stupid.
“At the start of this trial, I asked you to remember three things: reasonable doubt, circumstantial evidence, and burden of proof. Burden of proof,” Warwick said, walking the length of the jury box and letting his left hand drag along the railing, “means that it is the prosecution’s responsibility to make a compelling case against my client. But all they did was to throw a bunch of circumstances at you and ask you to make a leap of faith. They gave you nothing concrete except a contrived theory.
“They didn’t mean for their case to be so indirect and weak-it’s not their fault. They didn’t have a choice. But ask yourselves,” he said, slapping his right hand, karate-chop style, into his left palm for emphasis, “did they actually prove anything to you, or did they merely set the stage and ask you to imagine that you’ve seen the play?
“You have to admit that their case may, in, fact, be interesting, but it’s not conclusive. Certainly not beyond a reasonable doubt. Which is the standard against which, you must judge my client. Reasonable doubt means that if you have any doubts about the innocence or guilt of my client, if there’s something bothering you about all of this in the back of your mind, something that just doesn’t feel right, you must vote not guilty. That’s not my invention, it’s the law.
“As for Mr. Denton thinking that the matter of imprisoning someone for perhaps the rest of her life is a simple decision…well, maybe where he comes from, it is. From where you and I come from, it is not. It’s never easy to make such drastic decisions regarding another human being’s life. I’m sure you feel that in order to do so, you must be absolutely sure of the facts. Absolutely sure!”
As Warwick’s voice rose, in the manner that a preacher admonishes his followers, Denton detected the slight nod of the head of two of the jurors.
“I’m not asking you for sympathy for my client. But I am asking you for fairness for my client. Miss Harding is an innocent person, falsely accused, whose life will never be the same again, even if she is acquitted. Don’t reach a verdict of guilty merely because you want to make someone, anyone, pay for this horrible crime.” He held out his right hand, index finger angled toward the ceiling for emphasis. “Based upon the case that the prosecutor has provided, you must find her not guilty.
“Thank you.”
Warwick strolled back to the defense table, sat down next to Harding, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She sat there, numb, staring straight ahead. Judging by her lack of response, it appeared as if she had not heard a word either attorney had said this morning.
As the judge provided his long-winded instructions to the jury, Denton ground his molars so hard he gave himself a splitting headache. He knew what was coming, and he knew there was no way to avoid it-the extensive speech by Calvino defining and discussing reasonable doubt. The only positive aspect of his instructions concerned his comments on circumstantial evidence-which were strong and, Denton was sure, confusing to the jury.
Calvino explained, in an informal manner, that circumstantial evidence was real evidence: “It is to be considered and given weight just as one would give weight to direct evidence. However, the circumstantial evidence must not only point in the direction of guilt, it must also exclude to a moral certainty every reasonable hypothesis except guilt.” He plowed forward, despite the confused looks of some of the people on the panel. “Further,” he said, “every inference you make from the circumstantial evidence needs to arise from facts that were proven beyond a reasonable doubt. Otherwise, the circumstantial evidence could not be considered as evidence of guilt…”
After the judge concluded his thirty-minute explanation, the jury was dismissed to its room to begin deliberations. Hellman, who had arrived with Madison and Leeza just prior to the dosing statements, stood up and straightened his tie. “Now, we wait,” he said.
“How long do you think it’ll be?” Leeza asked.
Hellman cocked his head to one side. “No way to tell. If they’re absolutely convinced of her guilt, they’ll be backout here in half an hour. If they have issues of conflict, say, if one juror doesn’t think the evidence is conclusive enough, it could be days or weeks before they reach a verdict. I’ve given up trying to read juries. It’s not only inaccurate a good portion of the time, it’s stressful as hell.”
“Well, I’ve blocked off the morning from my schedule. God knows I’m not exactly busy these days,” Madison said, shaking his head.
“Things will pick up, Phil. It’s just a matter of time. People will forget. The other docs will realize they have no one who can do these surgeries as well as you can. They’ll start sending cases over again.”
“I can just hear it every time I go to testify as an expert witness. ‘Doctor, isn’t it true that you were once arrested for murder?’ It’ll be objected to, but I’m sure it’ll make a hit with the jury…and dredge everything up again. Would you want to hire me as your expert if you knew that question was going to be asked?”
“Why don’t we go grab some coffee,” Hellman suggested, realizing that this was not going to be a simple issue of reassurance. Leeza urged Madison to go, promising that she’d call him should the jury return while they were away.
They walked out of the courthouse to a Java City cafe a couple of blocks away. As they walked, Madison took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air that had a brisk, moist chill to it.
“Hopefully, today is the start of something new,” Hellman said.
“How did your trial go?”
“Jury’s still out. Deliberations will go on for days, I’m sure. It wasn’t as strong a defense as I’d like to have had, especially with the guy facing twenty-five to life. But you take what you have to work with. Regardless, life goes on. For me, at least.”
Madison gave him a look. “Sorry-just a bit of defense humor.”
They ordered decaf lattes and sat at a comer table with a view of the street and sidewalk.
“So is that it? Life goes on? Is that how I’m supposed to think?”
Hellman shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt. This past year hasn’t been a dream, Phil. As much as you’d like to wake up from it all, you have to accept that it’s happened and you have to deal with it. Your life will be changed forever.”
“Just move on, that’s it.”
“That’s it. There’s not much else you can do. Just be glad that it turned out this way. You could just as easily have been sitting in court right now instead of Harding waiting for the jury to decide your fate.”
Madison sat there, shaking his head. “I can’t describe what this past year’s been like, Jeffrey. I’ve been to hell and back. I guess I should feel fortunate, but all I feel is numb…emotionally spent. I’ve been on a rollercoaster for ten months. I’ve had feelings I’ve never had in my life. I’ve done things I’ve never done, been places I’ve never been.”
Hellman chuckled, tried to lighten the mood. “You can say that again.”
“All my life, I’ve always been liked. Now, people would just as soon spit in my face as shake my hand.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to say that I’ve never had conflict in my life-you know I have. But conflict is very different from persistent harassment by a psychotic nut. You never know what she’s going to do next. Where she’s going to show up, what rumors she’s going to spread. Whether your family is safe when they walk out the door…” He shook his head slowly, as if he were reliving a nightmare. “I didn’t know where it would lead, Jeffrey, when it would stop. My kids, I was worried about my kids…”
“I know, I was there, remember?”
“It just kept building, threatened to consume me. When Leeza left me, everything just…fell apart. I couldn’t deal with it anymore.”
“In a few days, maybe a week, heck, maybe today, it’ll all be over.”
Madison took a deep breath, gulped a mouthful of coffee. “And if she’s acquitted? What then?”
“First of all, they’ll convict. I really believe that. We gave Denton a good case. He had a lot to work with and he did a great job.”
“I thought you’d given up trying to guess what juries-”
“That was the attorney side of me talking. Speaking as a friend, my gut tells me she’s dead meat.” Hellman placed a hand on Madison’s shoulder. “On the off chance that she’s acquitted, I’ll get a restraining order. I’ll make sure they keep her away from you. We’ll do everything within the law to keep you insulated from that nut.” His eyes searched Madison’s face. “But all this is just meaningless debate. She’s going to be convicted.”
They finished their lattes, then parted company. Madison stopped by the courthouse to check in with Leeza and learned that the jury had came out to have part of Ronald Norling’s testimony read back. They also wanted to hear part of Warwick’s cross-examination of Stuart Saperstein. Denton explained to Madison that it was impossible to predict what they were thinking, but he did think it was good that they wanted to hear Norling’s testimony again. He was an important link between the establishment of motive and the verbal projection of her intentions.
With Madison due at his office and Leeza leaving to pick up Elliott and Jonah, Denton offered to call him when the jury had reached its verdict. As Madison left the courthouse, he saw the demonstrators carrying signs demanding justice against Harding. He buried his face in the collar of his cashmere overcoat and steered clear of them. While he was no longer the object of their animosity, he did not want to invite recognition or, what’s worse, conflict.