Greed and a Mistress Page 8
“I was. It exactly matched the picture Mrs. Lockhart had taken for her insurance company.”
Davis retrieved another picture, asked for it to be submitted into evidence, and then handed the next exhibit to the Deputy. “Is this a picture of the necklace Lexi Hamilton showed you?”
“It is.”
“At this time, Your Honor, the state would like to show the jury this picture next to the picture taken from Mrs. Lockhart’s album on the screen?”
“Any objections, Mr. Livingston?”
“None, Your Honor.”
“You may precede, Mr. Davis.”
Davis nodded to his assistant and then walked to the front of the courtroom. As soon as he pulled a screen down from the ceiling, his assistant pushed a button and a side-by-side image appeared. One was marked photo album, and the other Lexi Hamilton. He checked to see that all the jury members could see the screen, and then went back to the lectern.
“Deputy Musgrave, what did you do with the necklace?”
“I put it in an evidence bag and then asked Lexi...I mean, Miss Hamilton, to come down to the police station and give us a statement.”
“Did she do that?”
“She did.”
Davis went through his routine and then gave the next exhibit to the witness. “Is this the statement you took from Miss Hamilton that day?”
Musgrave took a moment to scan both pages and handed it back. “Yes, sir, it is.”
“How did Miss Hamilton act...strike that. What was Miss Hamilton’s demeanor when she gave her statement?”
“She was very upset.”
“In her statement, did she mention when she received the necklace?”
“She did, it was June 13th.”
“The same day she called you?” Davis asked.
“Yes.”
“Was that the Saturday after Mrs. Lockhart’s body was found?”
“It was.”
“Did she tell you where she got the necklace?”
“She said her boyfriend gave it to her.”
“Did she name her boyfriend?”
“Yes, she said it was Mark Barrett.”
Davis paused for a long moment before he said, “Thank you. Now, Deputy Musgrave, did Miss Hamilton tell you she found it odd that Mark Barrett gave her a necklace?”
“Livingston sure is quiet,” said Michael. “The judge keeps watching the public defender as though he is expecting him to object, but Livingston just sits there. If I were a lawyer, I’d be on my feet by now, claiming hearsay or something.”
“That’s right,” said Carl, “you went to law school for a while?”
“I thought about it, but I didn’t actually go. That was before I found out there was more money in computers and the stock market. I mean, look at Livingston. He’s not making a dime off of this case, and he has to defend his client just as vigorously. I couldn’t do it, not when the guy blew a hole in a little old lady. I’d want to slap Mark Barrett around for at least a few hours.”
“She said he hadn’t ever given her anything at all before,” Deputy Musgrave continued.
“That necklace must be worth at least $5,000.00,” said Michael. “Why would a guy that hard up for money, agree to kill someone, and then give an expensive necklace to a girlfriend?”
“He probably didn’t know how to fence it,” Carl said. “I hear you need to know how to find a fence before you go out and steal stuff like that.”
“Or he doesn’t know real diamonds when he sees them,” Michael said. He watched as Jackie put a finger to her mouth. “Uh, too much talking.”
“Deputy Musgrave, do you know how much the necklace is worth?” Davis asked.
“Mrs. Lockhart had it insured for eight-thousand.”
“Do you have any reason to suspect Miss Hamilton stole the necklace?”
“No sir.”
“Do you have any reason to suspect Miss Hamilton murdered Mrs. Lockhart?”
“None whatsoever.”
Davis spent a moment looking over his notes and then turned to the judge. “Permission to recall this witness later, Your Honor?”
“Permission granted. Cross examination, Mr. Livingston?”
“Yes, your honor.” Livingston walked to the lectern and spread two pages out before him. “Good afternoon, Deputy. In your report, you noted that it was an unusually warm day for June. Do you recall what the high temperature was for that day?”
“I believe it got up to 82 degrees.”
“Thank you. You testified that you turned the heat down. Did you have a difficult time finding the thermostat?”
“No, sir. It was on the wall in the living room.”
“Could someone have turned it up to make the body decompose faster?”
“Objection,” said Davis, “calls for speculation.”
“Sustained,” said the judge.
Livingston looked a touch troubled but then he shrugged. “Do you recall what the thermostat was turned up to?”
“Yes, it was set as high as it would go, which was 90 degrees.”
“Is it possible, Deputy, that when you turned it down, you smudged a fingerprint?”
“No, sir. I used the tip of a key to turn the dial.”
“I see.” Livingston thoughtfully scratched a spot on his forehead. “Isn’t it true that Mrs. Lockhart’s front door may have been unlocked between the time she was murdered, and the time her body was found?”
“Yes, I would agree.”
“Then it is possible someone else stole the jewelry?”
“Yes, it is possible.”
“Is it also possible that Lexi Hamilton lied about who gave her the necklace?”
“I have never known her to lie, but yes, it is possible.”
“Deputy Musgrave, did you and Miss Hamilton have a conversation the night she showed you the necklace?”
Davis shot out of his chair. “Objection. No foundation.”
“Your honor, surely the State does not imagine the deputy and Miss Hamilton had nothing to say to each other that night.”
The judge agreed. “Overruled.”
“Thank you, Your honor.” Livingston turned to look at the witness again and waited for the answer.
“Yes, we had a conversation that night.”
“How long did you talk?”
“An hour or so.”
“Other than the defendant and the necklace, what did you talk about?”
“We just chatted about friends we had in common.”
“Deputy Musgrave, are you aware that Lexi Hamilton and Slone Lockhart, the victim’s son, are also good friends?”
Again, Davis jumped up. “Objection. Pertains to information not in direct testimony.”
“Sustained.”
Livingston took a deep breath and asked the very question his opponent hoped he wouldn’t ask. “Deputy Musgrave, when you notified the family, who specifically did you talk to?”
“Slone Lockhart.”
“Had you ever met Mr. Slone Lockhart before that day?”
“Yes.”
“About how long have you known him?”
“Several years, I suppose.”
“You testified that you have been friends with Lexi Hamilton for several years as well.”
“That’s right.”
Livingston started to ask something and then changed his mind. “Thank you, Deputy. Now, did you have the necklace dusted for fingerprints?”
“Yes, but we didn’t find any that could be identified.”
“Do you have any idea what happened to the rest of the jewelry?”
“No.”
“To your knowledge, does Mark Barrett have a police record?”
“Objection.”
Livingston glared at Davis. “I’m only trying to point out that the defendant is not a habitual...”
“Your Honor, now the defense attorney is testifying.”
“I agree,” said Judge Blackwell. “The jury will disregard Mr. Livingston’s comments. Counselor, move o
n please.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” said Livingston.
“On the record or not, Livingston won that one,” said Michael.
“Did you search Mrs. Lockhart’s house for a gun?”
“Twice,” the deputy answered.
“When was the first time?” Livingston asked.
“The day her body was discovered.”
“And the second time?”
“Detective Heffran and I went back and searched the next day.”
“Did you find any guns at all?”
“No.”
“To your knowledge, did Mrs. Lockhart own a gun?”
“We didn’t find any permits in her name.”
“Do any of her children own guns?”
“Objection,” the DA moaned.
Judge Blackwell waited, but when Davis didn’t continue, he asked, “On what grounds?”
“Mrs. Lockhart’s children have no bearing on the evidence in this case, Your Honor.”
“Unless you think one of them might have killed her,” Livingston shot back.
Peeved, Davis stared directly at Livingston. “Your Honor, does the defense wish to ask for an alternate perpetrator defense at this time?”
“No, we do not,” Livingston answered.
“Enough, Gentlemen,” said the judge.
Livingston quickly said, “I’ll rephrase the question, Your Honor.”
“Please do,” Judge Blackwell said.
“Alternative perpetrator defense,” Michael muttered. “I think I know, but I’m looking that up now. I just love all this legal stuff.”
“When you’re not hating it,” Carl reminded him.
Livingston cleared his throat a little. “Deputy, in your professional experience, is it common to suspect family members when a murder occurs?”
“It is.”
“As an officer with years of experience, and in the absence of a husband, did you suspect that one of Mrs. Lockhart’s children might have killed her?”
“Everyone is a suspect in the beginning.”
“Until they are eliminated?”
“That’s correct.”
Livingston deliberately looked at the DA. “That being the case, did you check to see if any of them owned guns?”
“We would have, but by that time, we had already arrested Mr. Barrett, and there was no reason to check further.”
“I see. So you don’t know if they own guns or not.”
“Asked and answered,” Davis mumbled, half rising up.
“Sustained.”
“Do you know if any of her children has a key to Mrs. Lockhart’s house?”
“I do not.”
“Thank you, I have no further questions.” Livingston grabbed his papers and returned to his seat.
“Redirect, Mr. Davis?” Judge Blackwell asked.
Carl downed the last of his soda and gets up to get another. “So Barrett’s mistress gets around and knows Slone Lockhart.”
“Jackie, I looked up alternative perpetrator defense just to be sure I know what I’m talking about,” Michael said. “It’s when you try to blame the other guy...or guys, but you have to declare your intentions before trial. It’s like being the prosecutor in reverse, which means you have to prove someone else did it. Not a fun thing to do. Even so, it looks like the defense is going to try to make the jury think Slone killed her.”
THE DA CHECKED SOMETHING off his list, thoughtfully brushed the side of his cheek with the back of his hand, and was about to ask his next question when the Judge interrupted, “Mr. Davis, how much more time do you need for this witness?”
“Not long,” the DA answered.
“Very well, continue.”
“Deputy Musgrave, did you find any evidence whatsoever that indicates that any of Mrs. Lockhart’s children murdered the victim?”
“No, I did not.”
“Thank you, I have nothing more.”
Livingston stood up. “I have one more question for this witness, Your Honor.”
“Proceed.”
“Do you know how much money the Lockhart children stand to inherit from their mother’s estate?”
“No, I do not know,” Musgrave answered.
“Thank you, that’s all I have, Your Honor.”
The judge said, “In that case, let’s give the jury a break. Ladies and Gentleman of the jury, you are reminded not to talk to anyone about this case, even each other. We shall break for fifteen minutes, and if you need anything, just ask the bailiff.”
“All rise!” the bailiff said.
FIFTEEN MINUTES WASN’T very long when everyone seemed to need the restroom facilities at the same time. Jackie finished first and waited outside the door. When Holly came out, she looked even more haggard than before.
“They shouldn’t let reporters in there,” Holly muttered as she shot past, and practically ran around the corner and down the hallway, stopping near the bench they sat on during the morning break.
“Sorry,” said Jackie when she caught up, “I’ll play guard next time.”
“Maybe coming here was a mistake.”
“It can’t be easy for you.”
“It’s his parents that make me the most upset. His mother keeps giving me dirty looks when I have to look in her direction to watch the jury.”
“Give her a dirty look back.”
“I never have the nerve to do things like that.”
“Why not? You hold all the cards. The day may come when they will want to see Mark’s children, and you have to be strong when they do. For the sake of your daughters, you can’t let them intimidate you, not now, and not in the future.”
Holly considered that and then her eyes brightened. “You’re right. I don’t even have to tell them where we are.”
“Now you’ve got it. It’s time to go back in.”
“Already?”
“I’m afraid so. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, you know.”
“I know.” Holly begrudgingly started back. “You go first.”
Jackie nodded, and together they made their way through the spectators and then up to the front of the courtroom. “What did the reporter say to you?” Jackie whispered after they took their seats.
“The usual. She wanted to know if Mark is guilty. I don’t know what reporters expect me to say. How would I know? I wasn’t there.”
“THE STATE CALLS DR. Gareth Franklin.”
Davis, along with everyone in the courtroom, waited while the witness was brought in and seated. He was a pleasant looking man with a baldhead and a cropped off mustache. “Please state your name and occupation.”
“I am Doctor Gareth Franklin, and I am the Medical Examiner for Fremont and two other Oregon counties.”
“Doctor Franklin, how many cases have you....”
“Your Honor,” Livingston interrupted, “the defense stipulates that Dr. Franklin is well qualified as an expert witness.”
“Thank you,” said the judge, “so noted. You may continue, Mr. Davis.”
“Dr. Franklin, what is a medical examiner and what are your specific duties?”
“A medical examiner works for the state, and is responsible for the post-mortem examination when someone dies under suspicious circumstances.”
“Is an autopsy required when the cause of death appears to be suspicious?”
“It is.”
“On June 17th, 2012, did you personally do an autopsy on Mrs. Lockhart’s body?”
“I did not, I only watched. Coroner Keyes did the actual autopsy.”
“I see. Did your conclusions differ in any way from Dr. Keyes assessments?”
“They did not.”
“By the way, Dr. Keyes is not available to testify. Can you tell the jury why?”
“He passed away last year.”
“Thank you. Does a medical examiner normally determine the cause of death?”
“We do,” Dr. Franklin answered.
“Did you determine the cause of death in thi
s case?”
“Yes, I determined that Mrs. Lockhart died as the result of a gunshot wound to the head.”
“Did you issue a death certificate to that affect?”
“I did.”
Davis asked, “How many times was Mrs. Lockhart shot?”
“Just once.”
“Did you examine the entry and exit wounds in Mrs. Lockhart’s head?”
“I did. The bullet entered the frontal lobe,” Dr. Franklin used his finger to point to his own forehead, “and exited the occipital lobe, here.” He turned his head so the jury could see, and again used his finger to point to the back of his head.
“Wow, Mrs. Lockhart’s children don’t look disturbed at all,” said Michael. “No reaction to the gory details of their mother’s murder? Man, that is so cold.”
“Did you find that trajectory consistent with someone lying in bed?”
“Not exactly. Mrs. Lockhart wasn’t lying flat. She had a hospital type bed with the top raised four inches.”
“Did you find the trajectory consistent with the way her bed was raised?”
“I did.”
“I see,” said Davis. He quickly consulted his notes. “Would you say Mrs. Lockhart was shot at close range?”
“I would.”
“How close?”
“Approximately two feet.”
“Could you tell from the angle of the wound how tall the killer was?”
“Not exactly, but unless he was crouched down for some reason, he stands about six feet tall.”
Davis paused, hoping the jury would try to guess how tall the defendant was. “What else can you tell us about the condition of the body?”
“Well, Mrs. Lockhart died instantly.”
“Did you find any other wounds or injuries?”
“No, I found no other wounds.”
“No signs of rape or mutilation?”
“No, sir.”
“Could you tell by the condition of the body, how long she had been dead?”
“Well, considering the lividity and how warm it was in the house, I set the approximate time of death between two and six a. m. the morning of June 9th.”
The DA turned to see if the defense attorney was going to object, but he didn’t, so Davis continued. “Did you have the blood samples that were taken from the murder scene examined by a blood expert?”
“I did. We sent them to the state’s forensic lab.”