Page 117 of Two Kinds of Stranger

‘Dr. Sharpling,’ I began, careful not to accidentally call him by his nickname, although it wouldn’t have been the first time an attorney had called him Dr. Death during his testimony. ‘Whydid you ask Detective Sacks to make a video recording of the exhumation of Stewart Yorke?’

‘I thought I had made it plain. It was to ensure that there was no opportunity for anyone to tamper with the body. If, for example, the body was left alone in a morgue or funeral home overnight, then a smart defense attorney like yourself could argue that the poison found in his liver could have been placed there after his corpse had been exhumed. I wanted to rule out any interference.’

‘I see. So, hypothetically, it’s possible that someone could inject a poison into the liver of a deceased person to make it look as though they had been poisoned?’

‘It is not hypothetically possible in this case. We have the video evidence to prove that the casket seal was not opened from the moment it left the burial site to the time when I opened that lid in my facility and conducted my examination.’

‘But, just to be clear, if the body was not observed for any length of time, it would just be a matter of someone injecting tetrahydrozoline into the liver to give the appearance of poisoning?’

‘Correct, but impossible in this case.’

‘Impossible because you can prove that no one had a chance to interfere with the body from the moment it was exhumed to the moment it got to your lab?’

‘Correct.’

I looked at the clock. It was almost four.

I needed to ask my question now.

The court would soon be finishing, and I didn’t want to get into something complicated now and then break overnight. I needed the jury to be able to follow this point from start to finish. Also, I didn’t want to tip off Bernice.

‘Your Honor, I have one question for Dr. Sharpling, then I would like to get into a long and complex area. I think it wouldbe better for the jury to begin hearing that portion of testimony tomorrow, to ensure that they follow it.’

‘It’s been a long day already,’ said the judge. ‘Ask one more question, then we’ll move into that more difficult area tomorrow.’

I thanked the judge, turned to Dr. Death, and casually asked the only question in this whole trial that mattered.

‘Dr. Sharpling, are you certain that all three victims were murdered by the same person?’

I phrased it as dryly as I could. Made it sound flat. Like a question that I had to ask because I was doing my job. It wasn’t sloppily phrased, but I didn’t give it any bite on purpose. I wasn’t throwing a softball here, but I wasn’t exactly unleashing my fastball either.

‘Mr. Flynn, given my extensive experience, and the fact that the same poison was used, I am one hundred per cent convinced that all three victims were poisoned by the same person. And that person isyourclient.’

Two jury members blinked when they heard that response. Whatever kind of ball I’d thrown with that question, Dr. Death had gotten all of it with his baseball bat of an answer, and it was now sailing clean out of the stadium.

Home run.

Or so he thought.

46

Eddie

I had my back against the wall, in every way possible.

Court adjourned for the day. Legs crossed, head down, I felt cold marble at my shoulder blades as I sat on a bench in the hallway of the courthouse, considering a decision. I glanced up, saw Denise with her arm around Elly, telling her it would be okay. She was going to take Elly back to her hotel. Denise would be telling her not to worry. That things would work out. That Elly should trust me.

Elly nodded, said she trusted me. But her eyes said something else.

Life can beat you down as surely as a pro boxer.

At this point, Elly was on the canvas, the referee was up to an eight count and the timekeeper had his hand on the bell, ready to ring it when he got to ten.

Not many people get up from this position. Even if I could save Elly, which was a long shot, there was every chance she would never recover. Not really. All I could do was fight for her in that courtroom. All I could do was my best, or my worst, depending on how you looked at it.

Right now, I carried that burden. Her life was in my shaking hands.

The stranger called Logan had really done a number on her. On us all. While preparing for the trial, Raymond had examined the apartment where Elly had been poisoned, and had foundonly DNA from the last occupants, an elderly couple from Nantucket who had come up for the week to see some Broadway shows.