Page 96 of The Devil's Advocate

Kate hid a smile behind her fingers.

When she looked back at Price, she didn’t feel quite so intimidated. Her confidence was returning. Sometimes monsters lost their power when they were made ridiculous. Harry nodded at her. He had given her exactly what she needed.

She looked at the witness stand as Korn’s assistant, Wingfield, set about erecting a life-sized photograph of the victim, lying in the dirt beside a large hole in the ground. There was blood on her face, bright red beneath flecks of dark earth. The blood luminous, almost matching her red nail polish. It was a huge photograph, almost to scale. Kate watched Wingfield set up the stand and noticed a large gold ring on his finger. He was too far away for Kate to see what the pattern was on the ring – there was definitely something there. He was a large man. Very strong, and it might have been a championship ring, or some other kind of commemorative ring.

Harry tapped her on the back of her hand, pointed at his finger and then gestured toward Wingfield. He’d spotted it too. He got up, moved across the aisle and asked Wingfield if he’d like a hand. The assistant DA declined. When Harry got back to his seat, he made a note on his legal pad.

It’s an FOP ring. Wingfield must be an ex-cop.

The FOP were like the Freemasons, but for cops. And Kate wasn’t surprised there were at least two people she’d seen with those rings. There were probably more, but she hadn’t noticed. She would be on the lookout now.

Once Wingfield set up the picture, and got it stood securely against the frame, Price got permission from the judge to approach the photograph. From her coat pocket she produced a telescopic pointer, which she flicked open with practiced skill. She pointed at the victim’s arms and began.

‘I’ll go through the injuries as I found them, Mr. Korn. You can see the bruising on her forearms. Here, here and here,’ she said, and pointed them out with her retractable stick.

‘This is indicative of the deceased fending off blows with her arms. She fought back. If you look at her left hand, you will see the little finger and middle finger are swollen and misshapen. The little finger was dislocated at the proximal interphalangeal joint, with a fracture of the neck of the proximal phalanges. The middle finger is dislocated at the metacarpophalangeal joint, and there is fracturing of the distal and intermediate phalanges. There is some bruising and laceration to her head and face. None of these injuries were fatal.’

Kate finished writing the answer given by Price and looked up to see Harry in deep thought. He looked like he had something to say, but whatever it was, he kept it to himself for now.

‘And what was the cause of death?’ asked Korn.

‘Strangulation. This is evident by petechial hemorrhaging in the eyeballs and around the face, the bruising pattern around the throat and the fractured hyoid bone at the front of the throat.’

‘Miss Price, can you sum up, from the injuries you’ve seen, how they occurred?’

Kate wanted to stand and object, but she let this one go. She would need some leeway with Judge Chandler, who looked her way, expecting an objection. She shook her head. Chandler raised an eyebrow, his lips curled into a brief smile at the corner of his mouth, then he turned his attention back to the witness.

‘This young woman was attacked, beaten severely and then strangled to death. She attempted to fend off her attacker. She fought back, but the attacker was too strong, and eventually overpowered her.’

‘Thank you,’ said Korn. ‘No further questions.’

Kate stood up fast, before Korn had time to limp to his seat, making sure to blast her first question across the courtroom, and across the district attorney.

‘Miss Price, as medical examiner you are involved in every homicide and suspicious death in the county, correct?’

‘Correct.’

Korn reached the prosecution table, but he didn’t sit down. Instead, he bent over, and extended his index finger to touch the wood, as if he was going to use it to spring back up with an objection.

‘You examined the bodies of Cody Warren and Elizabeth “Betty” Maguire, two days ago. What was the cause of death in each case?’

Korn’s back straightened like a flick knife swishing open, locking in place. He briefly caught Price’s gaze, then addressed the judge.

‘Objection, Your Honor, irrelevant !’

Kate wanted to get to this question fast, before Korn had time to settle behind his desk, clear his thoughts. He had gotten his objection across, but he’d used clumsy phrasing, giving Kate the opportunity she was after.

Before Chandler ruled, Kate got straight in with a hard jab at the prosecution.

‘Your Honor, the murder of a much-respected attorney who practiced in this court demands some basic courtesy from the district attorney. Cody Warren and Betty Maguire were members of this community. Mr. Korn should not let his animosity towards those victims rob him of respect for members of the profession.’

Judge Chandler held out his palms to calm the situation before anything else was said. Kate could not have elicited any testimony that Korn hated Cody Warren. There was no witness who could say that and no way to get that statement in front of the jury. Except, she just did.

‘Your Honor, I meant nothing by my objection towards the … I mean I bear no ill will—’ began Korn, but Judge Chandler cut him off.

‘I think tensions are running high. The court accepts you meant no disrespect.’

Kate ignored the judge, focused on the jury. The farmer, Taylor Avery, and a few others were not looking at the judge – they were staring at Korn and it wasn’t with anything that Kate thought could be admiration. There were questions in those looks.