Chapter 19
“Since
the judge allowed us to examine Fisher in response to the evaluation by
Morgan’s expert, why aren’t you going to put Skoda on the stand? I read his
report. Among other things, he determined Fisher was an accomplished liar. That
has to help our case,” Southerlyn contended as she and McCoy approached the
criminal courts building.
“I don’t
want to turn this into a battle of the experts. After the defense puts on their
psychiatrist, I can always call Skoda on rebuttal if I need to. But I think I
can get their guy to admit much the same thing that ours found,” McCoy
explained, punching the pedestrian signal at the crosswalk.
“With
Fisher’s parents dead, that doesn’t leave Morgan much to work with. Her witness
list is pretty light.”
“She’s
counting on the expert to tell the jury why her client did it and why they
should let him off with life in prison. All I can say is he must be one hell of
an expert.”
“Do you
think she’ll put Fisher on the stand?”
McCoy shrugged
as they began to cross the street. “I don’t know. If I were her, I would. Maybe
the boyish charm he used with all of those girls will work with the jury, too.
I don’t see that she has anything to lose. Her options are slim to none.”
***Morgan stood in front of the jury box and
addressed the gray haired man sitting in front of her. “Doctor Marcella, how
much time did you spend evaluating Eric Fisher?”
“I spent
the better part of three days with him.”
“After so
many hours of evaluation, would you please give us your professional assessment
of his mental and emotional states?”
“Mr.
Fisher suffered a troubled and violent childhood. Both of his parents were drug
addicts with police records, who frequently abused him. Due to his parents’
neglect, he had to learn to fend for himself at an early age. He ate whatever
he could find, sometimes stealing food from neighbors. He was somewhat of an
outcast in school, when he attended at all. Also, beginning at an early age,
his father often took him along when he hired the services of prostitutes with
whom he would act out rape fantasies.”
“What
affect did this have on him?”
“Being
forced to watch was both mentally and emotionally damaging to Eric. The result
was that he formed an abnormal viewpoint of intimate relationships. He was too
young to separate reality from play acting. To him, women were to be used and
then simply disposed of. He had no role model for what a healthy intimate
relationship should be like. He grew into an adult who was very much a loner
and found it difficult to form lasting relationships, particularly intimate
ones. He moved frequently, unable to settle down and stay in one place for any
length of time.”
“What
made him commit this crime?”
“There
were several factors involved. His childhood certainly played a large role in
his actions. Because of what he experienced with his father, he felt that
taking what he wanted from a female, with or without her consent, was
acceptable. His Internet viewing habits could have triggered his desire for a
relationship with a younger girl. Eric saw the adolescent female as more
non-threatening and easier to control than an adult woman.”
“What
about his mental condition at the time he committed the crime? Do you think he
was aware of what he was doing?”
“Yes, on
a certain level, I do. But after talking with him extensively on the subject, I
firmly believe that it was never his intention to do serious harm, let alone
kill. He has expressed a great deal of distress and remorse to me over that. I believe
the girl’s death was an accident. He tied her in order to control her, not kill
her. But he then mistook her unconscious state from falling and hitting her
head for one of death and became panic-stricken. What he did subsequently was
done out of fear, not premeditation.”
“Doctor,
if Eric Fisher were going to continue as your patient, what would you
recommend?”
“Therapy
sessions to reroute his abnormal view of women would be a very good start. I
would also want to see some self-esteem building skills taught to him. Along
with that, positive role playing exercises to allow him to learn how to develop
normal, healthy relationships with those around him would be of great benefit.”
“And do
you think these therapies would work in his case?”
“Certainly.
It’s never too late to learn these things.”
“Do you
think he could be reformed enough to eventually completely abandon his desire
for young girls?”
“With
intensive therapy I believe there is an excellent chance of doing so. He’s a
bright young man who simply has lacked the basic skills he needs to coexist
with others in an acceptable manner.”
“With
treatment, do you think he would still pose a threat to society?”
“No, I
don’t. If taught these skills, it’s likely that he could become a productive
member of society.”
“So
there’s still hope for him?”
“Most
definitely. He shows a willingness to learn and to change. Those are both
excellent indicators of success.”
“Thank
you, Doctor Marcella. I appreciate your time.”
As Morgan
returned to sit down beside her client, McCoy stood up.
“Doctor,
what are the statistics on the success rate for reforming child molesters?”
“I don’t
know off-hand.”
“Would
you say that the odds are in Mr. Fisher’s favor?”
“Statistics are simply numerical averages. I base my opinions on careful
observation and interviews with individual people.”
Nodding,
McCoy suggested, “Let’s talk about those observations for a moment. What was
going through Eric Fisher’s head while he was raping and strangling Corinna Braden?”
“I don’t
know.”
“But by
your own admission, you spent three days carefully observing and interviewing
him. You now know Mr. Fisher inside and out. In fact, you know him so well, you
assure us he’s capable of beating overwhelming odds to…”
“Objection,”
Morgan interrupted from behind him. “Mr. McCoy is testifying, Your Honor.”
“Is there
a question coming, Mr. McCoy?” Ianello prompted.
“Yes,
Your Honor,” McCoy responded. Turning back to face the witness stand again, he
asked, “Doctor, how is it that you don’t know what Eric Fisher was thinking
while he was committing the crime you discussed so extensively with him?”
“Mr.
Fisher doesn’t recall all of the details about the exact moments in which he
committed the crime.”
“Wouldn’t
that information be an important factor in determining whether or not he could
be reformed?”
“It would
be only one small factor.”
“How much
does he claim to remember?”
“He
remembers some details up to the point where the girl was seriously injured,
but nothing about actually causing her death.”
“Because
he panicked, right?”
“Yes,
that’s correct. It isn’t unusual for a person to not recall what went on during
a state of panic.”
“What
about before the attack? Does he remember his actions prior to meeting with
her?”
“He does
remember most of that.”
“Does he
remember taking along the rope that he used to strangle her?”
“He took
the rope simply to restrain her. He had no intention of using it for any other
purpose.”
“But he
took enough with him that he was able to tie her hands and have enough left
over to wrap around her neck. How can you say he didn’t plan to do just that?”
“Many of
the details of what he did were simply unimportant to him. He set out to meet
the victim very matter-of-factly. As I stated before, he saw nothing wrong with
taking whatever he wanted from a woman.”
“Corinna
Braden wasn’t a woman, Doctor. She was a fifteen year old girl,” McCoy reminded
him indignantly. “And his actions disprove your claim of how he viewed her and
what he planned to do. He lured her in a carefully thought-out way so that his
actions couldn’t be traced. He made meticulous plans to meet her where no one
would find out. If he thought he was entitled to rape her, why did he hide what
he was going to do? And why didn’t he confess upon being caught? Why all the
lies?”
“He had
some awareness. Even young children, when confronted, will try to hide what
they’ve done if they aren’t sure what their parents’ reaction will be. Eric is
no different in that respect.”
McCoy
shook his head disbelievingly. “Are you trying to tell us that a man capable of
going to such painstaking lengths to conceal his actions has the mind of a
child?”
“No, that
isn’t what I’m saying. But what we learn by observation during childhood shapes
our perceptions of the world around us for the rest of our lives. His plans
were simply a means to an end – an end that he felt was somewhat acceptable.”
“Because
of what his parents did to him?”
“Yes.”
“Are they
still living?”
“No, they
are not.”
“How did
you learn about his childhood?”
“He told
me.”
“How did
you verify his account?”
“There
are police records for his parents, among other things.”
“Yes, my office
found those records as well. But what we didn’t find on investigating his
background was any hint of abuse or the kind of neglect you and he claim he
suffered. There was no indication of anything of that sort in school records or
with the child welfare department…”
“Objection,” Morgan called. “Mr. McCoy is testifying again.”
“Ask a
question, Mr. McCoy, or move on,” Ianello advised.
Addressing the witness McCoy asked, “Why do you think there is not even
the slightest trace of evidence to back up Mr. Fisher’s claim?”
“I don’t
know. But just because his parents were never caught at it, doesn’t mean the
abuse didn’t happen. They were arrested on drug charges.”
“Yes, for
three misdemeanors between them. Hardly an indication of major drug abuse. Do
you have anything else besides the word of Mr. Fisher to back up his account of
his childhood?”
“No, but
the mental indicators now present…”
“Doctor,”
McCoy interrupted, “isn’t it possible that Eric Fisher is a master manipulator,
capable of making up a story about a troubled past in order to garner sympathy
for himself?”
“I saw no
indication of that.”
“Really?
He lied to the victim. He lied to the police. He lied to my associate and to
me. His entire claim of innocence in his defense before this court was a lie.
What makes you think he wouldn’t lie to you?”
“I’m a
trained professional, Mr. McCoy. I’m used to dealing with people who are career
criminals. I think I’m more than capable of detecting something so blatant.”
“And
maybe the large fee you charge to render an ‘expert’ opinion has caused you to
simply overlook the obvious.” As McCoy turned around and saw Morgan getting to
her feet, he said, “Withdrawn. I have nothing further for this witness.”
***McCoy approached the jury slowly, studying a
photograph he had taken from a folder lying on the prosecution’s table. Coming
to a stop in front of them, he held it up for them to see. “This is the picture
of the victim that we found in Mr. Fisher’s storage unit. It was taken by him a
very short time before he raped and strangled her to death.” Turning the photo
slightly so that he could also see it, he pointed out, “Notice her beautiful
smile, how happy she looked. Now take a look at the defendant.” Once each of
the twelve people in front of him was focused on Fisher, he asked, “What
fifteen year old high-school girl wouldn’t be impressed with a young man who
looks like that? What young girl wouldn’t be thrilled to receive attention from
someone like him, someone older and more worldly-wise? Eric Fisher counted on
that. He used charm, his good looks, and his youthful appearance to lure this
young girl away from her family to a secluded spot where he brutalized her and
finally took her life.” Studying the photo once more, he observed, “She trusted
him. You can see it in her face. She never saw what was about to happen to her
coming.”
After he
handed the photograph to the jury foreperson to be passed around, he continued,
“The defense has tried to convince you that Eric Fisher didn’t really think he
was doing anything wrong when he raped and strangled the victim. They have
tried to tell you that his actions had to do with a troubled childhood and
past. They want you to believe that he isn’t fully responsible for his actions.
But you know full well what he did. You sat in this courtroom for six days and
heard the testimony. You know the lengths to which he went to commit this crime
in a way so as not to be discovered, and you know he lied about what he had
done when he was caught. His entire defense was a lie to everyone in this
courtroom, particularly to you. And you, better than anyone, know that he
almost got away with it. If this photograph hadn’t been discovered and
presented to you, would you have been able to find Eric Fisher guilty of the
crimes charged against him solely on the basis of the evidence presented to you
up to that point?” Pointing to Fisher, he maintained, “But you did find him
guilty, beyond a reasonable doubt. You know full well that this man is a cold
and calculating killer. He planned everything he did down to the last detail,
then did a remarkable job of hiding his crime. Now that he’s been discovered
and convicted, he wants you to believe that there were ‘reasons’ for his
actions. He wants your sympathy. But what about sympathy for the victim? Think
about the last moments of her life. She must initially have been stunned at his
abrupt change from solicitous suitor to brutal attacker. She was no doubt
terrified to find herself faced with what was surely her worst nightmare come true.
He inflicted injuries that caused her a great deal of pain. As her breath was
slowly choked from her, who can doubt that, had she been able, she would have
begged him to spare her life?
“Corinna
Braden was fifteen years old. Her whole life lay ahead of her. But because of
the actions of this man, that life was snatched from her in a horrifying,
agonizing way. Eric Fisher manifested a blatant, intentional disregard for the
life of a beautiful young girl whom he tricked into meeting with him by lying
and convincing her that he cared. What could be more cruel?” Turning to point a
finger at Fisher, he asked, “Why should we value his life any more than he
valued hers?”
McCoy
slowly lowered his arm, then stared at Fisher for another moment before moving
from in front of the jury. When he had finally resumed his seat, Morgan slowly
rose.
“None of
us can ignore the facts of this case. Eric Fisher is guilty of taking Corinna
Braden’s life and I’m not going to make excuses for his behavior. But there is
a difference between excuses and mitigating factors.” Shaking her head, she
continued, “Eric was deeply scarred during his formative years. He never
learned how to interact with people in an acceptable manner. His parents failed
to teach him the basic concepts of life with others on this planet. The things
he did learn were from observation and first-hand experience. His so-called
caretakers and role models were junkies. His father took him along when he
engaged in extra-marital relations with prostitutes, where he acted out rape
fantasies. It’s no wonder Eric has major issues to resolve. In the same
situation, can any of us say we would have turned out any better than he did?
And with the proper help, who of us can say that he can’t change? Who are we to
say his life has absolutely no value?
“I won’t
stand here and tell you that he doesn’t deserve to be punished for what he’s
done, because he obviously does. But keep in mind that he has no prior
convictions. Remember that he acted in an irrational manner under duress. He
never intended to kill and only resorted to doing so out of panic. Above all,
remember that as much as we may all wish otherwise, taking Eric Fisher’s life
will not bring Corinna Braden back. Give him the opportunity to change and
redeem himself. Punish him for his crimes but recognize that his life, and Eric
Fisher as a person, still have value.”
***The courtroom behind McCoy was filled to
capacity as he and Southerlyn sat at the prosecution’s table, waiting for the
jury to return. He had spotted Briscoe in the galley among a crowd of
reporters, along with both Mr. and Mrs. Braden. He glanced across the aisle to
find Morgan sitting silently beside her client, chewing her lip nervously.
When the
door opened and the jury began to file in, McCoy studied each of their faces
carefully, looking for some sign as to their decision. They had deliberated for
only four hours, so he was fairly confident as to which way they were going to
vote, but he couldn’t help feeling the usual apprehension and uneasiness that
always went along with waiting for the final outcome in a capital case.
A hush
fell over the room when the side door opened and the judge entered.
“All
rise,” the bailiff commanded as Ianello took his place.
“You may
be seated,” Ianello announced. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I understand
that you have reached a unanimous decision.”
“We have,
Your Honor,” the foreperson confirmed.
“Will the
defendant please stand?” Once Fisher and Morgan had done so, Ianello addressed
the jury. “As to the count before you, murder in the first degree, what do you
hold?”
Unfolding
a piece of paper, the foreperson read, “Pursuant to article 22B of the
correction law of the state of
The color
drained from Fisher’s face and he grabbed the back of his chair for
support.
Over the
collective murmur from the galley, Morgan said, “Motion to set aside the jury’s
decision.”
Ianello
shook his head. “Ms. Morgan…”
Stepping from
behind the table, she moved to stand in front of him and pleaded, “Before you
rule, Your Honor, give my request due consideration. We’re talking about a
man’s life here. You have the authority to spare it. I beg you, please consider
doing so.”
There was
not a single sound in the entire room as everyone present waited for Ianello’s
response. Southerlyn exchanged a questioning look with McCoy before focusing
once more on the man sitting in front of them.
The judge
regarded Morgan for a moment, then picked up his gavel. “I will take your
request under advisement. We will reconvene tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. and I
will announce my decision to counsel then. The jury is excused with the sincere
appreciation of this court. You have carried out a most difficult duty
commendably.”
Once he
had brought the gavel down with a dismissive thud, Morgan turned around,
looking only slightly relieved. She took her place beside Fisher and spoke a
few quick words to him. He grasped her arm as she spoke, until the guard came
forward and pried it loose, then escorted him from the room.
With the
postponement of the final verdict the galley quickly cleared, with the
exception of Briscoe, who began to make his way against the tide of exiting
people toward the prosecution’s table where Southerlyn and McCoy were preparing
to leave.
“I can’t
believe Ianello postponed the final decision. I’ve only witnessed two cases
where a judge didn’t go with what the jury decided,” Southerlyn noted. “Do you
think there’s a chance he’ll set it aside?”
McCoy
shook his head. “It isn’t likely. Maybe he just wanted time to prepare a more
quotable statement. He probably didn’t expect the jury to render their verdict
quite so quickly.”
From
across the aisle, Morgan spun around to face them. “And maybe he’s simply not
in as big a hurry to put someone to death as you seem to be! Maybe he actually
has a little compassion left in his heart.”
McCoy set
his briefcase on the table and turned to her, calmly and deliberately. “Your
client doesn’t deserve anyone’s compassion, Counselor. Or are you forgetting
that he’s responsible for the deaths of at least four girls that we know of so
far?” Reaching into his briefcase, he pulled out a manila envelope. “Perhaps
you need to take a look at the rest of the photos we found in his storage unit
to convince you since you never did take a really good look at them the other
day. If you saw the smiling, happy faces of the young girls your client
brutally murdered, maybe you wouldn’t be so eager to come to his defense.” He
shrugged, still holding out the envelope. “Then again, maybe it wouldn’t matter
to you one way or the other.”
Morgan
stared at him silently, a look of shock and dismay on her face. Then, turning
away, she picked up her briefcase and started for the back of the courtroom.
As she
walked toward him, Briscoe took a step to intercept her. “Calea…”
Morgan
glanced up at him and he was sure he saw tears in her eyes as she shook her
head and continued walking, saying quietly as she passed him, “Not now,
Lennie.”
He
watched until she had disappeared through the double doors. Turning around as
the prosecutors came down the aisle toward him, he focused on McCoy, his eyes
blazing.
Taking
note of his expression, McCoy gave him a questioning look. “What?”
“You and
I need to have a little chat, Counselor,” Briscoe suggested curtly. “Alone.”
Taking
her cue, Southerlyn said, “I’ll wait for you out front, Jack.”
Briscoe
waited until the door had closed behind her before addressing McCoy angrily,
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Pardon
me?” he asked in surprise.
“Did you
really have to kick her when she was down? Isn’t it enough that you won the
case?”
McCoy
shook his head in confusion. “Am I missing something here? You were the one who
wanted to see Fisher get the needle, no matter what it took.”
“This has
nothing to do with Fisher. I’m talking about the way you treated Calea. That
crack about the pictures was way out of line!”
McCoy
took a few steps toward the door. “I don’t need to justify my actions to you.”
Briscoe
moved in front of him, blocking his way. “The hell you don’t! She didn’t
deserve that!”
“She was
making excuses for a child rapist and murderer! What did you want me to do? Pat
her on the back?”
“I
thought maybe you’d be a little more understanding and realize how upset she is
over the whole thing!”
“She
chose the case! She has no one to blame but herself for being in that
position!”
“She made
it happen, Jack!” Briscoe insisted irately.
“What are
you talking about? Who made what happen?” McCoy demanded.
Briscoe
closed the gap between them and explained fervently, “Calea came to me the day
before we found out that Fisher had a storage unit and asked if I would get his
keys out of the property room. She said she needed to borrow them to check
something out. After she convinced me to help her and I got them for her, she
disappeared for a couple of hours. When we met up again so she could give them
back, she was a wreck, really shaken up. I couldn’t get her to tell me what she
had done or found, but I knew she had something on Fisher. I told her she
couldn’t let him walk if she knew he was guilty, and she said she didn’t see
that she had a choice. But later that evening, she called me up and asked what
time Ed and I went on duty the next morning. When I told her we were supposed
to go in at 9:00, she suggested we get there by 8:00 instead. So you tell me,
was it just a coincidence that Serena called the station house at 8:20 and told
us to meet you at the storage unit where we found the evidence that has most
likely won Fisher a lethal injection?”
McCoy
stared at Briscoe disbelievingly. “Are you suggesting that Calea did something
to help us nail her client?”
“She had to
have found the photos. There’s no other explanation for her reaction that
evening or for what happened the next day. I don’t know how she did it, but she
maneuvered things so that Fisher was found out.”
Turning
away slightly, McCoy studied the floor, his mind racing to comprehend what
Briscoe had told him. Almost to himself, he muttered, “She must’ve been the one
to put the newspaper under the door of the woman who manages the storage
facility.”
“So you
see, she didn’t need to ‘take a good look’ at the photos. She saw them before
any of the rest of us.”
McCoy
looked up at him, realization sinking in. “So what you’re saying is that I
acted like a complete ass when I suggested she do just that.”
“Getting
you to see that was the whole point of this conversation,” Briscoe agreed
dryly.
Closing
his eyes, McCoy swore softly. Then he started once more for the door. “I have
to go find her.”
“Hold
on!” Briscoe commanded as he caught him by the arm. “When I suggested that she
talk to you about this, she nearly bit my head off. She was sure you’d report
her and she’d lose her license if you found out. I assured her you weren’t like
that. You wouldn’t be thinking of making a liar out of me, now, would you?”
A slow
smile lit McCoy’s face. “Don’t worry, Lennie. Everything’s going to be all right
now.”
***McCoy shifted slightly in the hard chair and
glanced at his watch. It was almost 11 p.m. and he still hadn’t seen or
heard from Morgan despite leaving messages at her home, office, and even with
Carmichael. After having convinced the building security guard to allow him
past the front desk, he had been waiting outside of the elevator door that
serviced Morgan’s apartment for more than two hours. Forty-five minutes into
the wait the guard had thought to bring him a much-appreciated chair. Even
though he wasn’t exactly worried, he was beginning to be concerned. He couldn’t
imagine where she could be. She had checked in briefly with her receptionist
right after court and had left a message for Carmichael canceling their usual
Thursday evening run, but neither of them had any idea where she was headed. It
wasn’t like her to be out of touch for so long.
After
checking his watch again, he sighed and leaned his head back against the wall.
He hoped she would show up soon, but at least the time alone was giving him
plenty of opportunity to think about all the things he wanted to say to her.