The Perfect Game (15 page)

Chapter Forty

(Wednesday, September 6–Thursday, September 7)

Lauren felt badly when she spotted Ryan yawning in court the following morning. They had been at the hospital until well past eleven the previous night. Then Ryan had insisted upon driving her home. He must not have gotten home himself until nearly midnight. Lauren was long accustomed to keeping crazy hours, but felt guilty for dragging Ryan into her chaotic life. Rose-ma was recovering well, with no signs of additional memory loss. She would soon be discharged from the hospital to return to her apartment at Sierra Pointe.

The next Prosecution witness, Jonathan Schope, looked like an Iowa farm boy with his freckled face and strawberry blonde buzz cut. He was a regional manager for Sprint telecommunications and Candace had called him to help establish the Prosecution's time line.

Liz's phone records confirmed she was on her cell frequently, typically starting around eight in the morning and continuing until about ten most nights. But her cell phone usage came to an abrupt stop at 6:39 p.m. on the evening of Saturday, July twenty-third when Liz had sent her final text. She had been in the middle of exchanging text messages with a friend. The friend sent a text at 6:46 p.m. asking Liz if she was attending an upcoming charity event, but Liz never responded. Additionally, Liz hadn't answered her phone after 6:39 p.m. despite several missed calls reflected on her cell phone records that evening, including one from Lauren's cell phone at 8:23 p.m.

Lauren reflected. She remembered leaving a hurried message that night. As she listened to the testimony, she realized Liz had likely already been killed, lying dead and bloodied as the incoming call from Lauren rang and rang.

The medical examiner had estimated the time of death somewhere between 7 and 11 based upon stomach contents and body temperatures. But the cell phone records told a more compelling story; Liz had become lost to the rest of the world somewhere around 6:39 p.m.

Mr. Schope testified that Jake was also a “high cell phone utilizer.” He had used his phone regularly on July twenty-third with the exception of one time frame. Between the hours of 6:28 and 7:18 p.m., he had initiated no calls or texts and had failed to answer two incoming phone calls.

Pratt attempted to mitigate Schope's testimony by getting him to admit all cell phone users miss calls on occasion. However, the implications were still quite damaging. Liz had been too busy dying and Jake had been too busy killing her between the hours of 6:39 p.m. and 7:18 p.m. for each to answer their phones.

Todd White was the next Prosecution witness. He was an attractive, broad-shouldered black man who worked as a skycap at a private hangar for U.S. Airways. When Candace called for him, he sauntered to the stand, clearly enjoying his moment in the spotlight. After taking his oath, he testified about checking in Jake's bags on the evening of July twenty-third. As a big Diamondbacks fan, White had recognized Jake immediately. White consulted automated records and confirmed Jake had checked in at 7:44 for his 8:15 flight that evening. Jake had autographed a photo for White before hurrying to catch his plane.

White's testimony supported the Prosecution's time line. The detectives had timed the drive from the Wakefield home to the airport several times. Even when traffic was heavy, the trip took no longer than thirty-five minutes. If Jake had left home at 6:30 as he said he did, he should have checked in at the airport by 7:15 at the latest. The fact that he didn't check in until 7:44 suggested he left at least thirty minutes later than he said he did.

Pratt gently chipped away at White's testimony, asking if it was uncommon for people to check in thirty minutes prior to their flight time.

“Not at all. We tell people to check in at least an hour before their departure time, but many folks don't check in as early as they should. Lots of folks show up late, running up to us all crazy like, worrying about missing their flights. And when folks are private passengers, like Mr. Wakefield, they can check in a little later because they get preferential security, so they aren't so pressed for time as regular Joes.”

Pratt smiled. Although White had been called by the Prosecution, he seemed eager to help the Defense make their points. “Mr. Wakefield signed an autograph for you?”

“Yes, sir. We aren't supposed to ask our customers for stuff like that, but he just gave it to me 'cause he could tell I was a fan, and I was real glad to get it. It's worth about fifteen hundred dollars on eBay now.”

A Jake Wakefield autograph wouldn't have been worth more than fifty dollars a year ago. Wakefield memorabilia was now selling for extravagant prices. Jake's supporters would argue it was because of his perfect game and World Series win, but in reality, the media exposure of the trial had strangely enhanced Jake's celebrity status. Before the trial, Jake was famous among those that followed sports, but Jake Wakefield was now a household name.

“What was Mr. Wakefield's demeanor that evening?” Pratt asked White.

“He was real pleasant. He was just like a regular ol' customer that night even though he's a real big star.”

“Thank you.” Pratt concluded. As Todd White exited the courtroom, he leaned over to shake Jake's hand. Candace objected and Judge Robles directed White to exit the courtroom, but the damage had been done. Courtroom decorum was out the window and Prosecution witnesses were fawning over Jake's autographs. This wasn't a trial, it was a three-ring circus.

Candace had been on the fence about calling the Wakefields' housekeeper to testify. On the one hand, Teresita had discovered the body. Candace also suspected Teresita had witnessed Jake abuse Liz, verbally and physically. And Teresita has been close to Liz. On the other hand, Jake paid Teresita a generous salary, which she stood to lose if Jake went to prison. Candace elected to roll the dice and call her.

Teresita cried throughout the entire direct examination. It was difficult enough to understand Teresita's accented English under normal circumstances, but when she was crying, it was practically impossible. Teresita appeared to be exaggerating her accent to avoid answering Candace's questions. If so, it was effective. Her testimony was painfully slow to elicit. Still, she described entering the Wakefield home very early on Sunday, July twenty-fourth. She had been going about her cleaning when she discovered Liz lying dead on the master bedroom floor in a pool of blood. She had dialed 911 and awaited the arrival of the responding officers.

“Did you ever hear the Wakefields argue?”

“No.”

Candace rolled her eyes. “You worked full-time for the Wakefields for three years?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“You spent a lot of time in the Wakefields' house?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“And you never saw or heard the Wakefields argue with each other?”

“No. Never.”

Candace nodded incredulously. “Did you ever see Jake Wakefield physically abuse Elizabeth Wakefield in any way to include hitting, punching, grabbing, biting, kicking, or restraining her?”

“Never, never! Mr. Jake is a very good man. He is very good to me.”

Teresita composed herself for cross-examination, appearing anxious to do a good job for the Defense. She glanced at Jake frequently and he nodded at her in encouragement. She proceeded to answer all of Pratt's questions with what a ‘good man' Jake was.

“Ms. Gomez,” Pratt asked gently, “you had a lot of opportunity to observe Mr. and Mrs. Wakefield interact with one another, isn't that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And would you say Jake Wakefield was a good husband to his wife?”

“Oh, yes sir. Mr. Jake is a very good provider.”

That much was true, Lauren thought ruefully. Teresita had been raised in a shack in Central Mexico with dirt floors and no indoor plumbing. Maybe she couldn't distinguish between a good provider and a good husband.

When Pratt had no more questions, Judge Robles recessed court for the day.

“That filthy little liar,” Candace fumed as the courtroom emptied. “Jake and Liz never had so much as an argument? I never should have called her to the stand.”

Lauren countered, “That's the very beauty of her testimony. Any juror on the panel who has ever been in a relationship, let alone married, isn't going to believe her. They are going to know she lied about that, so they will assume she also lied about the domestic violence.”

“Don't be so sure. The jury themselves are a bunch of liars, remember?”

“Yes,” Lauren agreed, “and liars recognize other liars.”

Chapter Forty-one

(Friday, September 8–Monday, September 11)

Washington D.C. detective, Vincent Castiglione, was next to testify. At Wallace's request, Castiglione had provided a courtesy death notification to Jake at the St. Regis Hotel in D.C. According to Castiglione, Jake had not seemed surprised at the news of his wife's death, his tears had appeared feigned, and he had forgotten to ask how his wife had died until several minutes had passed. When Castiglione had offered to drive Jake to the airport, Jake required no time to pack up. Castiglione said it was as if Jake had been awaiting his arrival. The Defense objected to this as speculative and had it stricken from the record. Still, the image of Jake, bags packed, just sitting and awaiting notification made an impression. Maybe he had even rehearsed his tearful response.

Next, the Wakefield life insurance agent testified that Liz had come in alone to change her beneficiary from Jake to Lauren a few days before her death. Liz had offered no explanation for the beneficiary change and the agent had not asked for one.

The next witness, Sonia Jamison, worked for the twenty-four-hour insurance claim line. She testified a male had called to inquire about a life insurance payout at about six-thirty a.m. Phoenix time on July twenty-fourth. The caller had identified himself as Jacob Wakefield and indicated his wife had died. Ms. Jamison had advised the caller that information about the life insurance benefit could only be released to the designated beneficiary, who was not listed as him. The caller had become angry and belligerent, demanding to know when the beneficiary had been changed. The call had ended with the caller threatening, “You can expect to hear from my attorney.”

During cross-examination, Jamison admitted that she couldn't be sure the caller had really been Jake Wakefield. Candace whispered something to Ryan who quietly exited the courtroom.

“In fact, the caller could have been any number of people, right?” Pratt asked.

“Whoever called knew Elizabeth Wakefield's social security number,” Jamison hedged.

“The caller could have been a news reporter trying to get information about this case, isn't that right?”

“I suppose so.”

Ryan returned to court just as Pratt was wrapping up his cross-examination, slipping some documents to Candace before resuming his front-row seat next to Lauren. Candace reviewed the document and turned around to reward Ryan with one of her hundred-kilowatt smiles.

When Jamison had been excused, Candace jumped up and asked to be heard on a motion.

Judge Robles recessed for lunch, but asked the attorneys to stay back so he could hear the motion. “What's that all about?” Lauren asked Ryan as they headed to the war room for lunch.

He grinned. “I tracked down the phone records for the insurance company on the morning of July twenty-fourth.”

“And?”

“There was only one incoming call to the claims office between the hours of six and seven that morning. It came in at 6:27 a.m. Want to guess where the call came from?”

“Jake's cell phone?”

“Not quite, but almost as good.”

Lauren shook her head. “I give up.”

“A pay phone at Washington National airport in D.C. The first thing the grieving widower did was call about the insurance payout.”

“Why would he use a pay phone, but identify himself by name to the insurance clerk?”

“Why does anybody ever use a pay phone? Because they don't want the call traced back to them.”

Lauren thought about the recent occasions on which she had used a pay phone and nodded in agreement.

Ryan continued. “He wanted to conceal the fact that he called the insurance company right away so he took the extra precaution of using a pay phone. That would give him plausible deniability later if he needed it. The phone company employee I spoke to this morning is on standby. Candace is probably petitioning for permission to call her this afternoon.”

Lauren heard a commotion in the hallway outside. Candace and Kyle arrived like the victors of war.

“Pratt is fit to be tied,” Candace crowed. “He's been whining to the judge about not having enough time to prepare on such short notice, but Robles ruled in our favor anyways. We get to call the phone company rep this afternoon. Robles allowed an extra hour for lunch so the Defense can prepare their big cross. What a joke. There's nothing to cross.”

This reality didn't prevent Pratt from trying. After the heavyset woman from the phone company testified the only incoming phone call that morning had been initiated from a pay phone at Washington National airport, Pratt jumped up to vigorously cross-examine the poor woman, who had awakened that morning with no clue she would be at the center of a public spectacle this afternoon.

“Ms. Hanford, does Qwest have any way of determining which individual might have initiated a particular phone call?”

“I'm sorry. I don't understand the question.”

“Allow me to simplify it. You can tell what phone line a call came from, but you can't tell who dialed that phone, isn't that correct?”

“Yes.”

“The phone call in question came from a pay phone at Washington National Airport, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any way of knowing who initiated that phone call?”

“No, I couldn't know that.”

“It could have been any one of thousands of people at that airport that morning, could it not?”

“Yes.”

“And if we called that number right now, would you have any way of knowing who would pick up the phone?”

“Of course not.”

“Indeed, why don't we find out? Permission to have the witness call the phone number, Your Honor?”

“Objection, Defense counsel is grandstanding for the jury,” Candace charged.

“Overruled. I've allowed you some leniency today, Ms. Keene, and I will allow this.”

The rattled witness was handed a speakerphone. “Ms. Hanford, please dial the number for the pay phone we have been discussing,” Pratt directed.

Court spectators could hear the phone ringing through the microphone on the witness stand. One ring, three rings, five rings.

Somebody answered after nine rings. “Hello?”

“Hello, this is Richard Pratt calling from the Arizona Superior Court.”

“Right, and I'm Judge Robles,” said the voice. Then the line went dead.

The court exploded in laughter. But Pratt had managed to make his point. Anybody could have initiated the call from that phone.

Several people went to the press the following day claiming to be the “mystery phone witness” in the Wakefield murder trial.