The Fifth Witness - Michael Connelly [131]
“And what did the measurements tell you?”
“There was very little play in these numbers. Less than a quarter of a centimeter separated the four measurements. They averaged out to seven millimeters in depth, which is approximately a quarter of an inch.”
He looked up from his notes. I was writing his numbers down even though I had already gotten them off the autopsy protocol. I glanced over at the box and saw a few jurors writing in their notebooks. A good sign.
“So, Doctor, I noticed that this part of your work didn’t come up on direct examination by Ms. Freeman. What did these measurements mean to you in terms of the angle of impact of the weapon?”
Gutierrez shrugged. He stole a glance at Freeman and got the message. Be careful here.
“There is nothing really to conclude from these numbers.”
“Really? Wouldn’t the fact that the impression in the bone—the dent, as you called it—left by the hammer was almost even at all measurable points indicate to you that the hammer struck the victim evenly on the top of the head?”
Gutierrez looked down at his notes. He was a man of science. I had just asked him a science-based question and he knew how to answer it. But he also knew he had somehow strayed into a minefield. He didn’t know how or why, only that the prosecutor sitting fifteen feet from him was nervous.
“Doctor? Do you want me to repeat the question?”
“No, that is not necessary. You must remember that in science one-tenth of a centimeter can mean quite a difference.”
“Are you saying that the hammer did not strike Mr. Bondurant evenly, sir?”
“No!” he said in an annoyed tone. “I am just saying that it is not as cut and dried as people think. Yes, it appears that the hammer struck the victim flush, if you will.”
“Thank you, Doctor. And when you look at your wound-depth measurements on the second and third strikes, they are not as even, correct?”
“Yes, that is correct. In both of these impacts the deviation ranges up to three millimeters in each.”
I had him now. I was rolling. I stepped back from the lectern and started to wander to my left, into the open space between the lectern and the jury box. I put my hands in my pockets and adopted a pose of a completely confident man.
“And so, Doctor, you have the fatal blow delivered clean and flush to the top of the head. The next two, not the same way. What would account for this difference?”
“The orientation of the skull. The first strike stopped brain function within a second. The abrasions and other injuries to the body—the broken teeth, for example—indicate an immediate dead fall from a standing position. It is likely that the second and third strikes occurred after he was down.”
“You just said the other injuries indicate ‘an immediate dead fall from a standing position.’ Why are you sure the victim was standing when attacked from behind?”
“The abrasions to both knees are indicative of this.”
“So he could not have been kneeling when attacked?”
“It seems unlikely. The abrasions on the knees indicate otherwise.”
“What about crouching, like a baseball catcher?”
“Again, not possible when you look at the damage to his knees. Deep abrasions and a fracture to the left patella. The kneecap, as it is more commonly called.”
“So no doubt in your mind that he was standing when struck with the fatal blow?”
“None.”
It was perhaps the most important answer to any question in the whole trial, but I glided on like it was just part of the routine.
“Thank you, Doctor. Now let’s go back to the skull for a moment. How strong would you say the skull is in the area where the fatal impact occurred?”
“Depends on the age of the subject. Our skulls grow thicker as we age.”
“Our subject is Mitchell Bondurant, Doctor. How thick was his skull? Did you measure it?”
“I did. It was point eight centimeters thick in the impact region. About one-third of an inch.”
“And have you conducted any sort of study or test to determine what kind of force it would have taken for a hammer to create the