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“Your Honor, can we have the photos removed from the jury? That is not something anyone should have to look at for long.”
“Certainly.” Ambrose nodded at the bailiff to collect the photos.
DuBose said, “Now, Mr. Till, you said that only Jerome Washington’s footprints were visible in the room?”
“Correct. Well, other than those of the deputies who arrested him.”
“But what about the Randolphs’? They were obviously in the room, too.”
“Well, it seems that during the course of the struggle, their footprints were smeared around so much as to be unidentifiable.”
“So during the struggle their footprints were erased, but not Mr. Washington’s. Does that seem odd to you?”
Battle rose. “Objection, calls for speculation by the witness.”
“Sustained,” said Ambrose. “You can disregard that question, Mr. Till.”
An undeterred DuBose said, “How many murder cases have you handled, sir?”
Till said, “Well, before I came here I worked over in Norfolk. Bigger city, had more homicides. Best I can figure, more than three hundred.”
“In any of those cases which involved considerable blood loss, have you ever seen where the alleged killer’s footprints were visible, but the victims’ were not?”
Ambrose seemed ready to say something but he held his gavel, looking uncertain. Then he glanced at the gallery and saw a row of journalists staring at him, their pens poised over pads. Ambrose slowly set his gavel down and looked on attentively.
In the audience, Hilly Lee and Miss Jessup exchanged whispered comments.
“Well, I can’t say that I have, ma’am,” replied Till.
“So you would classify that as unusual?”
Ambrose eyed Battle, who had not risen. He rapped his gavel. “Calls for speculation. Move on.”
DuBose looked at him for a long moment as if to say, I thought the lawyers were supposed to object, not the judge.
“You said that the murders occurred between three and five p.m.?” she asked.
Till nodded. “Yes.”
“Mr. Randolph was found on the floor and Mrs. Randolph in a chair?”
“Correct.”
“Was Mrs. Randolph killed in the chair?” asked DuBose.
“I don’t believe so, no.”
“Then how did she end up in the chair?”
“She might have fallen into it after she was struck down.”
DuBose went back to the counsel table and picked up a photo. “Defense Exhibit Four previously stipulated into evidence. Can you identify what’s in this photo?”
Till examined the photo. “They’re palm prints and fingerprints that were found in the blood by the chair. We matched the prints and blood type to Mrs. Randolph.”
“Why would her prints be in the blood on the floor?” DuBose asked.
“Because she had fallen there, I suppose.”
