Joe Dillard - 01 - An Innocent Client (25 page)

”I trust you had a good lunch,” the judge said. ”Is the state ready?”

”Yes, sir.”

”Is the defense ready?”

”Yes, Judge.”

”Read the indictment, Mr. Martin.”

Martin stood and read the indictment that charged Angel Christian with knowingly, intentionally, and with premeditation taking the life of John Paul Tester. Count Two charged her with abusing the corpse by mutilation.

”Opening statements,” the judge said.

Frankie Martin stood up. ”Ladies and gentlemen, the evidence in this case will show you that the defendant, Angel Christian, brutally stabbed and mutilated John Paul Tester in the early morning on April 12, 2006. Mr. Tester visited a club where the defendant worked on that same evening. The defendant flirted with Mr. Tester, she served him many drinks, and at approximately eleven thirty p.m., Mr. Tester withdrew two hundred dollars from an ATM in the club lobby. The defendant left the establishment shortly after Mr. Tester left. A witness will testify that she saw a woman accompany Mr. Tester to his room around midnight. Mr. Tester was found at approximately one p.m. that afternoon in his hotel room. He had been drugged and stabbed nearly thirty times. His penis had been sliced off and removed from the room. His wallet was gone. His severed penis was found near Pickens Bridge that same morning.”

Martin was calling Tester ”Mister” instead of

”Reverend.” I’d take care of that soon enough.

”Among the evidence gathered during a forensic examination of Mr. Tester’s hotel room were two hairs that were found on his clothing. Both hairs were tested for DNA. A hair sample was later obtained from the defendant. The DNA profile of the hairs found on Mr.

Tester’s body matches exactly the DNA profile of the hair sample obtained from the defendant. The chances of those hairs belonging to someone else are more than one hundred billion to one. You’ll also see a photograph of the defendant taken by the police two days after the murder. The photo shows a bruise on the defendant’s face, and our contention is that she received the bruise during some kind of altercation with Mr. Tester.

”But more important, we have a witness who will testify that the defendant confessed to this brutal crime. Our witness is an inmate at the Washington County Detention Center. Her name is Sarah Dillard.

Ironically, she’s Mr. Dillard’s sister. She will testify that the defendant confessed during a conversation they had at the jail. The defendant told Miss Dillard that on the night of the murder, the defendant followed Mr. Tester back to his motel room with the intention of robbing him. She’ll testify that the defendant told her that she drugged Mr. Tester and killed him after he passed out on the bed.

”I wish I had a videotape to show you, or an eyewitness, but unfortunately, I don’t. What I do have is a web of circumstantial evidence so tightly woven that the defendant cannot possibly escape. Everything points to her. She was at the club. She spoke to Mr. Tester. She served him drinks. She flirted with him. She invited him to leave with her. She followed him to his room, and then she drugged him, murdered him, and robbed him.”

Martin turned and pointed at Angel.

”Don’t let yourselves be fooled by that young woman’s beauty or her youth. Don’t let yourselves be taken in by her attorney’s tricks or the smoke and mirrors that will be placed before you during the course of this trial. That young woman sitting over there committed a vicious murder, and we have the evidence to prove it. It will be your duty to render a verdict of guilty in this case, and to impose on her the only sentence that will give justice to John Paul Tester and his family: a sentence of death. This woman committed first-degree murder. My job is to prove it. Yours is to make her pay the price. I fully intend to hold up my end, and I hope that once you’ve heard all the evidence, you’ll do the same.

Thank you.”

Martin sat down at the prosecutor’s table, and I stood. Martin’s argument had been passionate and persuasive, but parts of it were dishonest, and I intended to point that out immediately. I walked to the wooden lectern, picked it up, and set it down three feet to my right. I didn’t want any barriers between the jurors and me. I glanced at the jurors and then out over the courtroom. Junior Tester had come in and was sitting on the front row, directly to my left.

I noticed that he’d put on at least twenty pounds since I’d visited him last month. He hadn’t shaved in days and looked tired and haggard. He was also staring directly at me. It unnerved me, but only for a few seconds.

”Not much point in having a trial,” I said, ”if you believe everything Mr. Martin just said.” I smiled at the jury. ”If everything he said were true, I suppose we could just go ahead and ship Miss Christian off to death row right now and save everybody all of this trouble.”

I sought out eyes, looking for signs that Martin’s argument had closed their minds. They weren’t avoiding me. They were still receptive to what I had to say.

”But what Mr. Martin just told you isn’t true. It was his interpretation of the evidence, and as every one of you knows, there are two sides to every story.

Now, first things first. This young lady’s name is not

‘the defendant.’ ”

I walked over to the defense table and stood directly behind Angel. I put my hands on her shoulders.

”Her name is Angel Christian, and she’s going to testify in this case. What she will tell you is this:

”On the night of April the eleventh of this year,
Reverend
John Paul Tester came into the club where she’d been a waitress for only a month. It’s a strip club, a gentleman’s club, whatever you want to call it. It’s a place where men go to watch young ladies dance and take their clothes off. It’s not the kind of place where you’d expect to find a man of God, especially if he’s paying for his night out with money given to him by worshippers at the Church of the Light of Jesus, where he’d preached a sermon on the evils of fornication less than an hour before he arrived at the club.

”Miss Christian wasn’t a dancer, not a stripper, and she certainly wasn’t a prostitute. She was a waitress. She arrived here in February after leaving a viciously abusive situation back home in Oklahoma.

She originally intended to go to Florida, but she met a young lady on a bus in Dallas who told her she’d help Miss Christian find work here.

”Miss Christian will tell you that on the night of April the eleventh, she served Reverend Tester the drinks he ordered—six doubles, straight scotch, the equivalent of twelve drinks, in two hours. She’ll tell you Reverend Tester became intoxicated and that he was aggressive, even a little abusive, towards her.

She’ll tell you Reverend Tester used inappropriate language and that Reverend Tester touched her inappropriately. She reported Reverend Tester’s behavior to her employer, Ms. Erlene Barlowe, who will also testify in this case.

”Ms. Barlowe spoke to Reverend Tester and eventually asked the reverend to leave. Miss Christian had never seen or heard of Reverend Tester prior to his coming to the club that night, and she never saw him again after he walked out the door.”

I moved back towards the jury box and stood directly in front of them.

”Now, despite what Mr. Martin said earlier, you won’t hear a single witness tell you they saw Miss Christian anywhere near Reverend Tester’s room that night. You won’t hear a single witness tell you they saw Miss Christian leave the club at the same time Reverend Tester left. As a matter of fact, Miss Christian’s employer, Erlene Barlowe, will testify that Miss Christian finished out her shift and Ms. Barlowe drove her home.

”You’ll hear evidence that two hairs found on the victim’s body contained DNA that matches Miss Christian’s DNA. That is, by far, the most compelling piece of evidence the state will present in this case.

I believe it’s safe to say that were it not for those two hairs, we wouldn’t be here today. But what I’ll be asking you to pay particular attention to is
where
those hairs were found. Both of them were lifted off of Reverend Tester’s shirt. Since there will be testimony that Miss Christian had contact with Mr. Tester at the club, that she leaned over and served him drinks and that he deliberately and obnoxiously rubbed himself against her, it’s not only possible but
probable
that the hairs were transferred from Miss Christian to Reverend Tester at the club.

”That, ladies and gentlemen, is all they have, with the exception of a last-minute statement from a drug addict and thief they recruited at the jail. She’s my sister, yes, and she’s furious with me because I had her arrested when she stole from my family. It wasn’t the first time she’d done it.”

Martin stood to object. Judge Green waved him back down.

”Tone it down, Mr. Dillard,” the judge said.

”They have no murder weapon. They have no eyewitnesses. They have no fingerprints, no blood evidence, and no way to place Miss Christian at the scene of the crime. They say the motive is robbery, but they didn’t find any of Reverend Tester’s money on Miss Christian. They have no evidence to prove it.

”In this case, the government must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Miss Christian, acting with premeditation, stabbed the victim to death and then mutilated his body. In order for you to convict Miss Christian, you must have
virtually
no
doubt
that she committed this terrible crime. And beyond that, the judge will instruct you that in a case based on circumstantial evidence such as this one, you can only find Miss Christian guilty
if
there
is
no
other
reasonable
theory
of
guilt
. There are dozens of other reasonable theories as to how Reverend Tester was killed.

”When all the evidence is in, you folks will have more than a reasonable doubt. As a matter of fact, you’ll probably be wondering why this young lady was arrested in the first place. Angel Christian has been living a nightmare since the day the state wrongfully accused her of murder. It’s a nightmare only you can end. She is
not
guilty
. She
did
not
do
this terrible thing.”

I paused and looked at each of the jurors. I wanted the message to sink in.

”Everyone associated with this trial is doing their duty,” I said. ”The judge, the lawyers, the witnesses, everyone. Your duty is to determine the truth, and after you’ve done that, to vote your conscience. In this case, the only verdict you’ll be able to return is not guilty. This is a death penalty case. A man has been killed, and someone should pay for killing him.

But none of us wants an innocent person to pay, and that beautiful young woman sitting over there is
innocent
.”

July 24

2:15 p.m.

”Call your first witness,” Judge Green said.

Martin called Dennis Hall, the manager of the Budget Inn, to the witness stand. Hall told the jury that Reverend Tester had checked in late in the afternoon of April 11th, said he was there to preach at a revival at a friend’s church, and asked him where he could get a good burger. An hour after checkout time the next day, one of his maids told him Tester’s ”Do Not Disturb” sign was still on the door. Hall went to the room, opened the door, saw all of the blood, and called the police.

When Martin was finished with his direct examination, I stood and straightened my tie.

”Mr. Hall, did you see Reverend Tester return to the motel at any time after he left for the restaurant you recommended—the Purple Pig, I believe it was?”

”No, sir. I got off work at seven and went home.”

I touched Angel’s shoulder. ”Have you ever seen this young lady before?”

”No. I would have remembered her.”

”Thank you.”

”You can step down,” Judge Green said. ”Next witness.”

Martin called Sheila Hunt, the clerk who was working at the Budget Inn the night of the murder.

She said she saw Tester’s truck pull into the parking lot around midnight, followed by a red Corvette. She said a woman got out of the Corvette and followed Tester up the stairs. Martin didn’t bother to ask her whether she could identify the woman.

”Ms. Hunt,” I said when it was my turn, ”it was raining when you saw Reverend Tester return to the motel, wasn’t it?”

”Yes, it was.”

”Raining pretty hard?”

”Yes.”

”And that made it difficult for you to see, didn’t it?”

”Yes. The rain, and I wasn’t paying that much attention. I was watching Jay Leno.”

”And didn’t you tell the police that the person you saw was wearing some kind of coat or cape?”

”It had a little hood. I remember thinking she looked like Little Red Riding Hood, except I don’t think it was red.”

”So you can’t identify the person, can you?”

”No, I’m sorry.”

”There’s nothing to be sorry about, ma’am. You can’t tell us whether this person was old or young, can you?”

”No.”

”Tall or short? Heavy or slim?”

”No.”

”Can’t tell us whether this person was black or white or brown or yellow or red?”

”I don’t
think
she was black,” she said. ”But that’s about all I can say.”

”You can’t really even say with certainty that it was a woman, can you?”

”I think it was.”

”But you’re not certain, are you?”

”I don’t know. I think it was a woman.”

”You
think
it was a woman. A young lady is on trial for her life here, ma’am. You need to be certain.

You’re not, are you?”

”It was dark and raining.”

”Thank you. Let’s talk about the car for a second.

You weren’t able to get a tag number, were you?”

”I didn’t try.”

”Because there wasn’t anything that alarmed you, right?”

”That’s right. I wasn’t alarmed.”

”People come and go at the motel all the time, yes?”

”Yes.”

”You didn’t see the driver, did you?”

”No.”

”Don’t know if it was a man or a woman?”