Deadly Defiance, page 29
“So, how are you feeling?” he asked.
Rebekah didn’t smile. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been very lethargic today. I wanted to scrub the kitchen floor but I just couldn’t get up the energy.”
“You don’t need to be scrubbing floors. We should get Maid Brigade to come in twice a week.”
“Nonsense. What else do I have to do all day?”
Stan didn’t say anything. They’d had this discussion before and he didn’t want to repeat it.
“I’m going to have to get up very early tomorrow,” Stan said. “I’ve got an eight o’clock appointment in Houston.”
“Oh, crap. I was hoping you could stay in bed with me tomorrow.”
Stan laughed. “I wish I could, but Paula’s got a murder trial going and I’m her only hope at tying up the loose ends.”
“Good luck with that. Most of the news commentators think Maureen Thompson is as good as convicted. They don’t think Paula will be able to overcome the overwhelming evidence against her.”
“That’s because Paula hasn’t put her case on yet. The DA’s evidence is all circumstantial. Nobody saw Maureen kill her husband and that’s because she didn’t do it.”
Rebekah raised her eyebrows. “Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Stan was a little hurt and disappointed at Rebekah’s attitude. She’d already convicted Maureen, just like the media and the police had done. That wasn’t like her. Usually she would be on Stan’s side, providing support and encouragement. But ever since she’d been ill, her personality had changed. She didn’t seem to care what Stan was doing and had trouble focusing on anything. Stan was very worried and didn’t know what to do. If he brought it up she’d just get angry and run off and sulk.
They went to bed early that night and when Stan left early in the morning Rebekah didn’t wake up. Stan could hear her breathing normally, so he let her sleep. He was worried about her, though, as he drove to the office on the way to Love Field for the fifty-minute flight to Houston Hobby airport. He had to find out what was wrong with her. He had never felt so helpless about something in his life.
Maria had promised to have the subpoena he needed on his desk. She’d also mapped out the route from the airport to the bank warehouse carefully for him. He didn’t want to get there late and give them any excuse for further delay. At five minutes to eight he was standing at the front entrance of FNB Regional Data Center with briefcase in hand. He walked inside the moment the doors were unlocked and handed the subpoena to the receptionist.
“I think they are expecting me,” he advised.
The receptionist looked at a list on the desk and then picked up the telephone and told someone Stan was there. A few moments later a woman came down the hall and approached Stan.
“Mr. Turner?”
Stan nodded. “Hi.”
“I’m Ruth Bowers. We’ve been expecting you. Come this way.”
Stan followed the woman down the hall to a small workroom with a half dozen microfilm viewers. She motioned for Stan to take a seat.
“So, why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for and then we can figure out the easiest way to find it.”
“Sure,” Stan replied. “I need to cover calendar year 1994. We’re looking for any check payable to a life insurance company. Specifically, we are trying to find out if any premiums were paid on an insurance policy on the life of Rodney Thompson. We also need to look at calendar years 1989–1990. In these years we’re looking for the same thing, payments to an insurance company for a policy on the life of Randy Rhymes, but also for large deposits—$100,000 or better. Rhymes died in March 1990 and his beneficiary would have received the proceeds of the life insurance later that year.”
“All right. There were two accounts, so I’ll take one and you can take the other. All the check images for 1994 are on the spools. When we’re done, I’ll have to go get 1989–1990. Do you know how to use these viewers?”
“Yes,” Stan said. “It looks like the same system they use in the Dallas County Clerk’s office for the deed records.”
Ruth handed one box of reels to Stan and took the other one over to a reader. They both loaded up the first reels and started reviewing each check. There were about 250 checks in each statement so it was tedious work.
“Here’s a check to State Farm for $212.00,” Ruth said.
Stan made a note on a legal pad. “Okay. Any reference or memo?”
“Fire & EC McKinney office.”
“Nope. We’re just looking for life insurance,” Stan said, turning back to his viewer.
In the next hour they covered about three months and only found three checks to insurance companies, two to State Farm and one to Gibraltar Life Insurance Company. The State Farm checks were more payments on casualty insurance policies but the Gibraltar Life had possibilities. Unfortunately it did not name the insured, just a policy number. Stan noted the information on his legal pad and they continued to work. By noon they had finished and identified twenty-seven checks to insurance companies. Seven of these were to life insurance companies but none of them identified the insured. While Stan left to get a hamburger at a McDonald’s down the street, Ruth went to get the 1989–1990 spools.
The afternoon session was more tedious as they had to review two years of individual checks and deposits. Fortunately, Stan was getting better at skimming the material and working the equipment more efficiently. He was determined to finish that day and get home to Dallas and find out if their hard work would pay off. At 4:30 p.m. they finished with another list of insurance company names. Unfortunately, they didn’t find any large deposits. This did not depress Stan too much as he doubted Doc Mellon would deposit a large check into his operating account. He no doubt had other, less public places to keep large sums of money.
Stan thanked Ruth and went back to the airport. He called the office and gave Maria the information so she could start getting contact information on each insurance company. He asked her how Paula’s trial was coming.
“The prosecution is still putting on its case but is expected to rest soon.”
“Shit. I need to get this information to her soon. Call each company and get their contact information. They’ll probably need a subpoena before they’ll release any information, so start working on that. I should be back in Dallas by seven.”
Maria said she’d start working on it immediately. Stan felt optimistic that they’d now find the checks they were looking for. He rushed to the gate, not wanting to miss his flight. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter: the flight had been canceled!
Chapter 32
Overwhelming Evidence
Paula watched the jury file back into the courtroom. She wondered how Stan’s search was going. She’d hoped and prayed he’d stroll into the courtroom, insurance policies in hand, but that hadn’t happened and she had to assume it wouldn’t. She sighed and looked at Rawlins who stood confidently, anxious to get started.
When the last juror was seated the judge nodded to Rawlins. “You may call your first witness.”
“The state calls Detective Leonard Gossett.”
Leonard Gossett stood up, his thick salt-and-pepper hair glistening in the fluorescent light. He was a ruggedly handsome man who obviously spent a lot of time outdoors. As he approached the witness stand he pulled out a notepad, set it on the railing in front of him, and took the stand.
Rawlins smiled. “Mr. Gossett. Would you please identify yourself?”
Gossett revealed that he was a twenty-year veteran of the Dallas Police Department, that he’d been a detective for seven years, and had received several decorations for valor in the line of duty. Rawlins took him through the events of the evening of February 25, 1995 and he testified just as Rawlins had predicted he would in his opening statement. When he was finished Paula took him on cross.
“Mr. Gossett. You testified that you spoke to Maureen Thompson on the night of the murder, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“How did you even know where Ms. Thompson lived?”
“The apartment manager had her address on file and gave it to us.”
“So, you went to the manager and asked if she knew where Maureen Thompson lived?”
“Well, she actually came to the crime scene and we asked her if she knew where Ms. Thompson lived.”
“What made you want to talk to Ms. Thompson?”
“We questioned the manager, maintenance man, and several neighbors who advised us that Mr. Thompson was estranged from his wife and there was bad blood between them.”
“So, this information made you put Maureen Thompson on your person-of-interest list?”
“No. A spouse is always on the list. This information just confirmed that we needed to talk to her immediately.”
“What time was it when this interview took place?”
“It was about 11:15 p.m.”
“How did she appear to you?”
“What do you mean?” Detective Gossett asked.
“Was she dressed when she opened the door?”
“No, she was in a robe.”
“Did she say she had been in bed when you rang the bell?”
“I believe she did say that.”
“Did she look sleepy?”
Gossett shrugged. “I don’t remember her looking sleepy.”
“Was her hair wet?”
“Ah. No. I don’t recall it being wet.”
“Did you smell any kind of body odor from her?”
“What? . . . Body odor? No, not that I can remember.”
“Was she sweaty?”
“Sweaty? No. I don’t recall that.”
“In your interviews with the manager and friends did you learn that Ms. Thompson’s car had been repossessed?”
“Yes, that was mentioned.”
“So, you knew that her only mode of transportation was by Rollerblades?”
“Well, someone mentioned that, but I don’t know that for a fact.”
“Assuming it is true, don’t you think if Maureen Thompson had skated over to Rodney Thompson’s apartment that she would have worked up a sweat?”
Gossett shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Yet her hair wasn’t wet, which it would been if she had taken a shower or, if she hadn’t taken a shower she would have been sweating and probably smelled, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Not necessarily. She could have taken a shower and blow-dried her hair.”
“Do you know how long it takes to get from Maureen’s house to Rodney’s apartment on Rollerblades?”
“No. I haven’t clocked it.”
“Well, I have and it took about forty-five minutes. Does that seem reasonable to you?”
“That’s about right.”
“Do you know what the time of death was?”
“It’s been estimated to be between ten and eleven o’clock.”
“So, assuming it was ten o’clock. The earliest Maureen Thompson could have gotten home would have been 10:45 p.m., is that right?”
“That’s correct.”
“So, that would have given her thirty minutes to take a shower and blow-dry her hair before you arrived, right?”
“Right.”
“Admittedly, that might have been enough time, but if the time of death was 10:15 or later it’s not likely Maureen would have had time to skate home, take a shower, and blow-dry her hair before you got there to question her.”
“None of these times are certain. They’re just estimates.”
“I suppose Ms. Thompson could have taken a cab to the apartment,” Paula admitted.
“Actually, no. We checked all the cab companies and she didn’t get there by cab.”
“Okay, then—Rollerblades it is. How did Maureen react when you told her Rodney was dead?”
“She acted surprised.”
“Did she cry?”
“Yes.”
“Did it look genuine?”
He shrugged again. “I don’t know. She may have been acting. Who knows?” Gossett replied irritably.
“Did you read Ms. Thompson her rights before you arrested her?”
“Of course, that’s standard procedure.”
“When was that done?”
“After we talked to her for a while and she could not provide us with an alibi, we read her rights to her.”
“So, you questioned her for a while without explaining to her that she was a suspect in her husband’s murder.”
“Yes, but—”
“No explanation is necessary. It’s clear what you were trying to do,” Paula spat.
“Objection!” Rawlins yelled. “Argumentative.”
“Withdrawn,” Paula said. “No further questions.”
Rawlins next quizzed Lance Shepard, the manager who had discovered Rodney Thompson’s body. He reiterated what Detective Gossett had testified to and confirmed that he had told the detective about the Thompsons’ marital difficulties. The most damaging result of the testimony were statements allegedly made by Maureen.
“Mr. Shepard. Did Maureen Thompson ever threaten her husband?”
“Sure. She told him once he would pay dearly for abandoning her and the children.”
“Objection, hearsay,” Paula said.
“Your Honor,” Rawlins replied. “These are admissions against interests plus we have another witness who actually heard these threats made by the defendant.”
“And that would be?” the judge asked.
“Mr. Thompson’s brother. I’ll be calling him shortly.”
“Very well, objection overruled.”
Rawlins turned back to the witness. “So, did you hear about any other threats?”
“Yes, I heard another time she suggested he was a worthless piece of shit and ought to jump off a bridge so she could collect his insurance.”
There was laughter from the gallery. The judge looked up and glared at the spectators.
“Thank you, Mr. Shepard. Pass the witness.”
Paula got to her feet and took the witness on cross-examination.
“Mr. Shepard. How did you acquire your knowledge of the Thompsons’ marriage?”
“From Rodney. He came to me after he moved in to get an alarm system. I guess he felt compelled to explain why he needed the extra security.”
“Did he say he was afraid of his wife?”
“No. Mainly he was concerned about her coming in and taking stuff.”
“So, he just didn’t want her in the apartment alone, right?”
“That was my impression.”
“So, other than what Mr. Thompson told you, you have no knowledge of what went on in the marriage?”
“That’s true.”
“Do you know a man named Doc Mellon?”
“The Clock?”
“Right.”
“Sure. I was a fan.”
“Did you ever see the Clock at Mr. Thompson’s apartment?”
“Ah, as a matter of fact, I did. Several times.”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Rawlins said. “This question lacks foundation and is irrelevant.”
“It’s not irrelevant, Your Honor, but I can wait to interrogate this witness when I present our case, if the court prefers. I just thought it might be more convenient for the witness if I ask him questions relevant to the defense while he’s on the stand.”
“Mr. Rawlins. If you insist, I’ll make the witness come back and answer Ms. Waters’ questions after you’ve presented your case, but I’m always in favor of making life easier for witnesses, if possible.”
Rawlins frowned. “If there aren’t going to be a lot of questions, I’ll withdraw my objection, assuming Ms. Waters can show the relevance of the testimony.”
Paula nodded. “Yes, I only have a few questions and they are relevant to the defense’s alternate theory of what happened in this case as outlined in my opening statement.”
The judge looked at Rawlins. “All right, objection withdrawn,” Rawlins said.
The judge looked at the witness. “You may answer the question.”
“What was the question?” Shepard asked.
“Did you ever see Doc ‘the Clock’ Mellon at Mr. Thompson’s apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have an occasion to talk to him on any of those occasions that you saw him?”
“Yes. I shook his hand and told him I was a big fan the first time he came over.”
“Do you know what his relationship was with the decedent?”
“He said he was a long-time friend, and I know they were business partners.”
“How do you know that?”
“On one occasion I noticed them in the pool area and went over to say hello. In our conversation they asked when I thought the real estate market would turn around.”
“Your Honor? This is more than a few questions,” Rawlins complained.
“I’m almost done,” Paula replied.
“Very well. Let’s move it along.”
“So, did you notice or sense any tension or animosity between them during that encounter?”
Shepard shrugged. “Actually, the Clock did seem a little impatient.”
“So, there was some tension between them?”
“Yes, that was pretty obvious but I don’t know why.”
“Fair enough. Did you see Mr. Mellon on the day of the murder?”
“No. Not on the day of the murder, but the day before I did.”
Rawlins stood up. “Your Honor?”
The judge glared at Paula. “Are you about done, counselor?”
“Yes. One more question. Then I’m done with this witness.”
The judge nodded, and Paula continued. “Tell us what you observed Mr. Mellon do on the day before the murder.”
“I saw him pull up in the parking lot. He got out of his car and walked briskly to Mr. Thompson’s apartment. I followed him, hoping I’d get a chance to say hello. When I got to the apartment he was already inside. I was about to turn around and go back to the office when I heard them arguing.”
“Could you hear what they were saying?”
“No. Not until the door opened and Mr. Mellon stormed out.”
Rawlins looked at the judge and shook his head. The judge ignored him.
