The Murder of Sara Barton (Atlanta Murder Squad Book 1) by Lance McMillian (primary phonics txt) 📗

44

Millwood calls police officer J.D. Hendrix to the stand. Hendrix responded to Sara’s 911 call and made the decision not to arrest Barton. He is Millwood’s witness, but our guy. We prepped his testimony many times, emphasizing that at no point whatsoever should he get clever or cute in his answers to Millwood. Listen to the questions, let Millwood score his points, don’t argue, don’t evade, be polite. Scott sat in on these prep sessions to put an exclamation point on the seriousness of these instructions as if from God Himself. Hendrix got the message. He’s a good kid.

Millwood’s mission is no mystery. In the hands of an angry jury, the 911 call is enough to convict Barton itself. One need not possess an active imagination to believe that a man who hits a woman has it in him to kill her, too. Millwood will use Hendrix to show that nothing at the scene indicated domestic violence. Anything Barton says on that score will be instantly disbelieved. To dilute the impact of the 911 call, Hendrix is the only game in town for the defense. How Millwood deals with the photo of Sara Barton’s blackened back remains to be seen.

Following a few background questions, Millwood asks Hendrix, “Describe the demeanor of Mrs. Barton when you arrived at the house.”

Millwood doesn’t fear the answer to this question because he holds Hendrix’s incident report in his hands. Contemporaneous with the event, the document describes Sara Barton as being calm, composed, and apologetic for involving the police in a private matter between husband and wife. By Hendrix’s telling, Sara confessed that she overreacted to her husband’s yelling in calling 911. And just like we trained him to do, Hendrix hews the line established by his report. Sara Barton was calm, composed, and apologetic when Officer Hendrix showed up at her door.

“Where was Mrs. Barton when you arrived at the house?”

“In the living room.”

“Did you have any indication that Mrs. Barton had been physically assaulted?”

“No.”

“How long did you talk to her?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

Millwood draws out the details of this conversation. Sara denied to Hendrix that she had been hit and emphasized that she had overreacted to an otherwise unexceptional domestic quarrel. Barton, also, presented a picture of absolute calm, denying that anything was amiss. The questioning is effective, transforming a scene of violence into an innocent misunderstanding.

“And after visiting the scene and talking to Sara Barton, you decided not to arrest Bernard Barton?”

“That’s correct.”

“No further questions.”

***

My cross-examination is short and to the point. I start by showing Hendrix the photo of Sara Barton’s injuries at the hand of her husband.

“Did you see these bruises?”

“No.”

“Sara Barton was wearing a shirt?”

“Yes.”

“And you couldn’t see her back?”

“Correct.”

“If you had seen these bruises, would you have arrested the defendant, Bernard Barton, for punching his wife?”

“In a heartbeat,” Hendrix responds.

I then play the 911 call, using the opportunity to get the frightened words of Sara Barton before the jury again. I establish that Hendrix didn’t hear the 911 call prior to arriving at the Barton house. Rather, the dispatcher only told him that a domestic disturbance was in progress.

I ask, “If you had heard the 911 call prior to arriving at the residence, would you have arrested the defendant, Bernard Barton?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why?”

“I put more credibility in what’s said in the heat of the moment to 911 than what’s said to the police once they arrive at the scene. Many women are coached by their abusers to stay silent for their own good.”

Millwood jumps out of his chair, “Objection! No evidence indicates that my client coached anyone to do anything. That is just rank speculation.”

“Sustained. The jury shall disregard any suggestion that Mrs. Barton was coached to stay silent.”

I expected that. No matter. The seed has been planted. I move behind the jury box, forcing Hendrix to look right at the jurors as he answers. The connection between witness and jurors needs to be tight for my big finish—because I know something that Millwood doesn’t.

“Did you ever see Sara Barton again?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“She was dead on the floor of her kitchen. I was one of the first officers to secure the scene.”

“What did you think when you saw Sara Barton dead on the floor of her kitchen?”

“I wished I had arrested her husband.”

45

Roy Winston approaches the witness box for the defense. Winston is Marsh & McCabe’s managing partner and figures to testify about the money Barton makes, with a dash of character reference on the side. Winston refused to talk to me when I called him up after seeing his name on the witness list. He’s a mergers and acquisitions lawyer by trade, and a meaningful possibility exists that today is the first time he has ever set foot in a courtroom.

Corporate law has treated him well. In the witness box, Winston wears a $3,000 suit and a look of profound unease. My guess is that he makes north of $3 million a year, all without ever having to dirty himself in the trenches of real law. But his money does him no good here. I have plans for him that won’t be to his liking.

Winston’s discomfort doesn’t abate as Millwood introduces him to the jury through a series of background questions. The witness sits erect, considers every word from Millwood with the utmost of care, and only answers when he is good and ready. With the end of the day nearing, Winston’s measured detachment tests the patience of the room—those who are awake at least. Millwood conceals his irritation with Winston’s extreme deliberateness, but hurries through the basics all the same to get to the point.

“In your capacity as managing partner, do you know how much money Bernard Barton earns each year?”

Pause. “Yes.”

They next go to the particulars. The testimony establishes that Barton’s share of partner profits totals approximately $1 million a year. Additionally, Barton’s interest in the firm retirement plan is $3.3 million in total. The numbers aren’t new. Millwood referenced them in his opening