Chapter 45 #2
Dr. Henry Roster was a forensic toxicologist who Dr. Brock used whenever he was available.
The pair had worked several poisoning cases together, though, thankfully, such crimes were rare.
Dr. Roster’s résumé was just as thick as Dr. Brock’s, and Raymond wanted no part of it.
He politely stipulated that the witness was a “preeminent” toxicologist and was willing to believe anything he said.
Dr. Roster began by cautioning the jury that the post-mortem analysis of drugs and poisons was extremely complicated and involved a large number of analytical techniques in special toxicological labs.
After a lengthy description of how difficult the task was, Raymond finally interrupted.
“Your Honor, I hate to be a pest, but we are willing, once again, to stipulate that the analysis by this esteemed researcher proves without a doubt that Ms. Barnett died of acute toxic poisoning.”
“Overruled. We’ll see where it goes.”
Dr. Roster was not as skilled at testifying as was Dr. Brock.
He began by saying that the most commonly used drug screening tests involved techniques known as “immunoassays.” Since perhaps three people in the courtroom had ever heard that word, Ms. Cook pressed a key and it appeared on the big screen.
Seeing it in print did nothing to help explain it.
Dr. Roster tried. Immunoassays are tests that use antibodies to detect reactions with suspicious substances.
What’s an antibody? A protein produced by the body to provide a defense against an antigen.
What’s an antigen? Any foreign substance that is injected into the body and stimulates the production of antibodies.
Simon glanced at the jurors. Of the twelve, four had college degrees, two had not finished high school.
Three were retired, two were unemployed, one was laid off from a job driving a forklift.
As a group they were reasonably well read and intelligent and had been attentive so far. Roster had already lost them.
He was explaining the four interpretations of a drug-screening test: a true positive, a false positive, a true negative, and a false negative.
He went on and on, trying hard to be interesting while knowing full well that his was an impenetrable subject.
One by one, the jurors began looking around, casting about for someone to rescue them.
Raymond decided not to help. He had tried repeatedly to speed things along, only to be stymied by Her Honor.
Ms. Cook tried to liven things up with more color slides, and Dr. Roster managed to inch away from the boredom.
He drowned, though, when he was forced to confront a “chromatographic detection.” Sorry, but the term could not be avoided.
Nor could it be suitably explained in under five minutes.
It was an analytical procedure used to separate compounds and drugs.
To save them all, Judge Shyam interrupted with “Ms. Cook, it’s ten minutes after twelve and the jury is ready for lunch. How much longer with this witness?” Her tone left no doubt that this witness had said enough.
“Oh, not much, Your Honor. Less than ten minutes.”
“And Mr. Lassiter, how much time for your cross-examination?”
“My cross? Hell, Judge, I’ve been trying to agree with everything the expert said, what little of it I can understand.”
It was a smart retort and not overly humorous, but in pressurized settings like packed courtrooms the slightest effort at levity or mockery was often rewarded with roaring laughter.
The crowd guffawed and bellowed and seemed to savor the moment by blowing off steam.
Judge Shyam saw the humor and grinned along, until it was time to call for order.
She tapped her gavel and said, “Very well. We’ll wrap up this witness and go to lunch. ”
Raymond enjoyed bantering with highly educated and erudite experts in front of common-folk jurors who were not always that sophisticated.
He began with “Now, Dr. Roster, I live in the town of Braxton, population thirty thousand, same as my client, Simon Latch. Let’s say I had a problem with rats in my barn and I wanted to get rid of them.
Where would I go to purchase some thallium? ”
“It’s not possible. Thallium is not sold in this country.”
“And why not?”
“Well, its production was outlawed years ago. For a while it was used, legally, in rat and mouse poison, but then that was stopped, too.”
“Why was it removed from rat poison?”
“Because too many domestic animals were eating it and dying.”
“It’s very dangerous, right?”
“Oh yes.”
“And why is that?”
“Well, in layman’s terms, it’s tasteless, odorless, colorless, and lethal.”
“In fact, Dr. Roster, it has a long and sordid history of being the preferred poison for murderers, correct?”
“That’s the legend, sir. I’m not sure that’s been proven scientifically. That’s a bit out of my field.”
“Fair enough. You work for one of the leading labs in the country, correct?”
“We like to think so, yes.”
“And does your lab keep an inventory of various poisons, toxins, and so on?”
“Yes, it’s crucial to our work.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. Hundreds. We have a procurement staff that does nothing but find and inventory compounds, illicit drugs, toxins, poisons, all with approval of the Food and Drug Administration, I might add.”
“So you keep a supply of thallium?”
“Yes.”
“Where do you get it?”
Dr. Roster thought for a second then shrugged. “I wasn’t prepared to answer that question, sir. If given an hour or so, I could contact the lab and get the answer to your question.”
“Don’t bother. Where does thallium originate?”
“It’s a metal that’s found just under the crust of the earth and is collected as a by-product to the mining of other metals, such as zinc and copper.”
“Okay. Let’s say I wanted to poison someone and decided to use thallium. Where would I find it?”
“I have no experience with that, sir.”
“Well, if it’s been the favorite choice for murderers for decades, both here and abroad, then somebody somewhere has to know where to find it, right?”
Dr. Roster shrugged again, as if playing along. “I suppose.”
“So who would you contact to ask around, you know? How would you begin your search for a little box of thallium?”
“Sir, again, that is outside the scope of my knowledge and experience.”
“That’s kinda bizarre, Doctor, if you ask me. You, one of the premier forensic toxicologists in the nation, if not the world, do not have a clue where to go or who to call to purchase thallium. Is this what you’re telling the jury?”
“I guess, Mr. Lassiter. I would not know who to call.”
“Then how in the world would a small-town lawyer from Braxton, Virginia, an honest man who’s never heard of thallium, know how to get his hands on the perfect poison?”
“I suppose you’ll have to ask him.”
“You’re confused, sir. He’s not on the witness stand. You are. Can you answer my question?”
“I cannot.”
“I didn’t think so. You say you’ve worked as a forensic toxicologist for twenty-seven years. How many times have you testified in a murder case involving thallium?”
“Twice. This is the third one.”
“Where was the first one?”
Cora Cook stood and said, “Your Honor, objection. Relevancy. Are we really going to revisit these old cases that have absolutely nothing to do with this one?”
Before Judge Shyam could speak, Raymond thundered in with “Hang on, Judge. This is a cross-examination! I’m allowed to explore all manner of irrelevant material. The Commonwealth has certainly been doing so.”
Judge Shyam patiently said, “Okay, overruled for now. But there are limits, Mr. Lassiter.”
Raymond glared at Roster as if he’d caught him lying. “Where was the first one, sir?”
“Ohio, 1998.”
“That was the McGregor case, right?” Raymond asked as he looked at the jurors, as if to say, “Aren’t I clever?”
“I believe so.” Roster suddenly realized Raymond knew as much about the old case as he did, so he added, “Yes, McGregor.”
“And he was found not guilty, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“And where did Mr. McGregor get the poison, the thallium?”
“Well, it was alleged that he stole it from a lab in Cincinnati, but I don’t believe that was ever proven.”
Raymond turned for his seat and said loudly, “Not guilty. Not guilty on all counts.”