Page 134 of Precise Justice

“No, I never said I did.”

“Thank you, Ms. Harding. I have nothing further,” Marc said.

“Ms. Raines,” Foster said.

“Nothing further your Honor.”

“You may step down and thank you for your time,” Foster said.

Thus, the prosecution’s trial pattern was established. Five victims. Each would have to be completely and carefully presented. They were all very similar, with the exception of Priscilla. Evidence to prove each element of the crime Robbie was charged with must be presented individually and proving each element of five counts of first degree murder. That was the prosecution’s job. And the defense, Marc and Jennifer were keeping track. If they missed even one of those crucial elements, that charge would be thrown out.

For each victim, first up, the person who found the body. Then the first responding police officer. The detectives to present their investigation, the forensic people to present physical evidence. Finally, the medical examiner to explain, with four colorphotos, the grim details of the cause of death. Finally, a forensic laboratory expert from the state crime lab at the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension to link the hammer, Exhibit A, with each shattered skull. Complete with photos of skull fragments and microscope closeups of scratch marks on the skulls comparing them to scratch marks on the hammer. All very scientific in full color and very impressive.

Skipping a weekend, with delays for in camera arguments, breaks and delays, three more victims took up another week. The victims all neatly tied by witnesses such as Dr. Andrea Brie, the Margaret Sanger Middle School psychologist, to one person and one person only.

FIFTY

Dear DiaryMay 30

I am skipping lunch today, too upset to eat. I have you Dear Diary, with me, so I decided to use a small conference room in the courtroom to make this entry. I hope that will make me feel better.

I was totally embarrassed by yesterday’s and this morning’s testimony. The judge allowed the prosecution to put a woman on the stand and read parts of you, Dear Diary, to the jury. I tried to act calm about it. Marc, Jennifer and Maddy all said I did. I’m not so sure.

She read every entry where I was angry and complaining about being transgendered. Worse, there were mentions of violence against the people who did it to me. She also read every passage in which I wrote about the blackouts. Marc made her read about other things that could have affected my anger.

Marc believes this afternoon will be worse to sit through than this morning. The prosecutors are going to put on their psychiatrist expert. I met with himtwice, one hour each time. The best way to describe him is that he is an arrogant prick. I think he had made up his mind before we met that I was guilty, that I was lying about the blackouts and I murdered all of these people.

I hate to think what he is going to say.

Judge Foster was back on the bench at 1:02. The first thing he did was call the lawyers up to the bench.

“Do you have any more witnesses after these two?” Foster asked Hughes and Raines.

“No, your Honor. We’re wrapping it up with this.”

“Okay, then here it is. Because it’s Friday we’re staying as late as we have to. Understood?” Foster said moving his eyes across all of them.

“Yes, your Honor,” they all said in agreement.

“Good, let’s go.”

What the judge meant, at least in part, was the question, how much do you want to piss off the jury? To drag this out is to do so at your peril.

Thomas Hughes waited until the courtroom was settled and Foster gave him the green light.

“If it please the court, the state calls Professor Dr. Lowell MacArthur.”

A tall, must have been six foot five inches, handsome, distinguished looking man, stood up from the front row. He had wavy, salt and pepper hair, a perfectly trimmed mustache and goatee wearing a two-thousand dollar three piece suit while also wearing an air of dignity and professionalism.

Foster’s clerk swore him in and he took the stand. The first thing Hughes did was to have him state his name and current employment.

“My name is Lowell MacArthur. I am an M.D. specializing in psychiatry. Currently, I am a professor of psychiatry at Johns Hopkins School of Medicine in Baltimore, Maryland.”

Having been given a copy of the man’s Curriculum Vitae, Marc stood to make a suggestion.

“Your Honor, if I may,” Marc began. “In the interest of saving everyone some time, the defense has received a copy of the witnesses Curriculum Vitae. We will stipulate to his qualifications as an expert in the field of psychiatry.”

The last thing Marc wanted to do was to listen for the next hour while Hughes read the entire thing into the record. Hughes, hiding his anger, was totally against this.

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