The Perfect Alibi Page 9

  “Has any police lab ever made errors when testing DNA?”

  “The Houston Police Department shut down the DNA and serology section of its crime laboratory in early 2003 after a television exposé revealed serious deficiencies in the lab’s procedures, a Seattle newspaper documented DNA testing errors in the Washington State Patrol lab, and there have been similar problems detected in independent labs that test for DNA.”

  “Have these errors led to the conviction of innocent individuals?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. Baylor, as an expert in the field of DNA testing, can you say with any certainty that the test of the semen in the case in which Blaine Hastings was convicted was an error-free test given the fact that identical DNA was found in semen ejaculated in a rape case in which it was physically impossible for Blaine Hastings to have been the perpetrator?”

  “No. I cannot.”

  “Thank you. No further questions, Your Honor.”

  “Mr. Kellerman?”

  “Mr. Baylor, if an error occurred, can you say whether it occurred in the tests in the Ray case or in the test in Mr. Hastings’s case?”

  “No.”

  “Then the DNA test in Mr. Hastings’s case may be accurate?”

  “Yes.”

  “No further questions,” the prosecutor said.

  After Paul Baylor was dismissed, forensic experts from the crime lab were examined. Robin heard the testimony, but she had a hard time believing it. It was obvious that Judge Redding was also having difficulty accepting the only conclusion that could be drawn from the evidence.

  When all the witnesses had been questioned, Les Kreuger pitched his argument for his client’s release on bail and a new trial.

  “It is obvious, Your Honor, that my client has suffered a grave injustice. Defense Exhibit Three is a copy of the lawsuit filed by Randi Stark against my client after Mr. Hastings was convicted. She is suing for millions of dollars, which gave her a very strong motive to lie about what happened between her and my client.

  “One explanation of what happened in this case is that Miss Stark had intercourse with the man identified by Miss Braxton as Ray. Miss Braxton met Ray at a club Miss Stark frequents and Miss Braxton’s description of Ray could be a description of Mr. Hastings. After having sex with Ray, Stark went to the fraternity party and saw Mr. Hastings. She realized that he resembled Ray and this gave her a diabolical idea.

  “During cross-examination at Mr. Hastings’s trial, Your Honor heard Miss Stark admit that she bore a grudge against Mr. Hastings for beating up a former boyfriend. I suggest that she saw a way to avenge herself against Mr. Hastings and make a pot full of money in the process.

  “Mr. Hastings was intoxicated. Miss Stark lured him into a bedroom with the promise of sex. There were no other witnesses in that bedroom and no one to contradict her when she accused my client of rape.”

  “How do you explain the fact that the DNA identified in the sample in Miss Stark’s rape kit matches your client’s DNA?” Judge Redding asked.

  “I do not have the scientific training to answer that question, Judge, but none of the witnesses with that training have been able to answer it either. All I can say is that the evidence in the Braxton case raises a reasonable doubt about my client’s guilt.

  “Your Honor should grant Mr. Hastings bail and a new trial,” Kreuger continued. “I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that any jury would have had a reasonable doubt about Mr. Hastings’s guilt if it heard the evidence concerning the DNA in the Braxton case that you heard today.”

  “Mr. Kellerman?” Judge Redding said.

  “I urge the Court to deny the request for bail. Mr. Hastings is a very dangerous man. If he’s freed, Miss Stark may be in danger, as may other women Mr. Hastings may assault.”

  “Mr. Kellerman, you are arguing that Mr. Hastings is dangerous, but is he? The crucial evidence in your case against him was the DNA evidence that has been called into serious question by the testimony we heard today. Do you concede that there is an excellent chance Mr. Hastings would have been acquitted if the jury had heard this evidence?”

  “I … There was Miss Stark’s testimony.”

  “True, but the case boiled down to a ‘he said, she said’ situation with Miss Stark admitting that she had a grudge against Mr. Hastings and her lawsuit giving her a reason to present false testimony. It’s clear to me that it was the DNA evidence that tipped the scales in favor of a conviction. Can you convince me otherwise?”

  Kellerman started to say something. Then he stopped and shook his head. “I can’t disagree in good conscience with your analysis, but the fact is that the DNA in Miss Stark’s rape case matches Mr. Hastings’s DNA.”

  “I can’t accept that as a fact, given what I heard today,” the judge said. “There’s a real scientific mystery here, and I’m going to give you time to solve it by setting a hearing on Mr. Kreuger’s motion for a new trial for a month from today. In the meantime, I am going to release Mr. Hastings on one million dollars’ bail.”

  Blaine Hastings didn’t move a muscle until the judge left the bench. Then he leaped to his feet and pumped Les Kreuger’s hand. “You were amazing! I can’t thank you enough for getting me out of that hellhole.”

  “We’re not out of the woods yet, Blaine,” Kreuger cautioned. “All the judge did was set bail. It will take a lot more to convince her to give you a new trial.”

  Before Blaine could say anything else, Blaine’s father and mother swarmed Kreuger.

  Vanessa Cole had been sitting in the back of the courtroom. Robin followed her up the marble steps to the DA’s office.

  “What’s going on, Vanessa?”

  “I have no idea. Rex and I spent a good part of yesterday afternoon talking to some of the top scientists who deal with DNA, and they’re all stumped. All they could say was that we were describing something that was not possible and that one of the tests had to be in error.”

  “Do you have any idea which one?”

  “Not at this time. But if it’s the test from Blaine Hastings’s case, your client could be in a lot of trouble. So, I suggest that you try to figure out why Blaine Hastings’s DNA and Ray’s DNA are identical.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  As soon as Robin was back in her office, she called Randi Stark, who put the call on her speakerphone so her mother could hear.

  “There’s been a development in your case,” Robin said.

  “What happened?”

  “Blaine Hastings is free on bail.”

  “How could that happen?” Maxine shouted. “He’s supposed to be locked up.”

  “A woman was raped while Hastings was in jail. The rapist didn’t use a condom, so they found his sperm and tested it for DNA. The DNA in the rapist’s sperm is a match for Blaine Hastings’s DNA.”

  “So, this other rapist has the same kind of DNA. What does that matter?” Maxine said.

  “That’s impossible, Mrs. Stark. Except for identical twins, no two people can have the same DNA.”

  “I don’t understand,” Randi said. “I know Blaine raped me, so it has to be his DNA.”

  “There’s been a suggestion that you had intercourse with someone else before you went to the party,” Robin said. “That it was this man named Ray, the man who raped this other woman.”

  “They’re calling my Randi a liar?” Maxine spat out.

  “No, but everyone, including the forensic experts, are very confused. This has never happened before.”

  “I did not lie,” Randi said forcefully. “And I did not have sex with any man that night before Blaine.”

  “I believe you, but everything is up in the air until the scientists figure out what’s going on.”

  “Are we going to get police protection while that animal is out?” Maxine demanded.

  “The police don’t protect citizens unless there’s something concrete like a threat or an assault.”

  “So, my Randi has to be brutally murdered before the police will
act?” Maxine asked belligerently.

  “I don’t think it will come to that,” Robin said. “Hastings knows he’ll be right back in jail if he calls Randi or comes near her. But you should be on your toes. Record any calls you get and call me if you see someone suspicious hanging around.”

  “Blaine is smart. He won’t do anything himself,” Randi said. “He’ll get someone else to hurt me, someone like Marlon Guest.”

  Robin knew Randi was right. She’d seen Hastings’s hair-trigger temper in court, and she’d saved Randi when Marlon Guest attacked her. Hastings was violent, and he’d want revenge on the person who put him in prison.

  “I can talk to Vanessa Cole about protecting you, but I want to be honest. The police don’t have the manpower to assign someone to Randi twenty-four hours a day.”

  “And meanwhile, that animal is free and we’re in danger,” Maxine said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Doug Armstrong had just flown in from Seattle, where he’d negotiated a very favorable settlement in a difficult case, so he was in a great mood when he walked into the reception room of his law office at five thirty on Tuesday evening. Doug would have been in a great mood even if the case hadn’t brought the firm a terrific attorney fee. His law practice was prospering and, more important, his marriage was on the mend.

  Doug remembered how depressed Marsha had been after her miscarriage and the dark days when he’d been banished to their guest room because she didn’t want to make love anymore. But, miracle of miracles, Marsha had asked Doug to come back to her. The lovemaking had been tentative at first, but it hadn’t been a one-time thing and he had high hopes that they would be able to rekindle the passion that had ignited the early years of their marriage.

  Kate Monday, the firm’s receptionist, was getting ready to leave when Doug walked in. “Welcome back,” she said. “How did it go?”

  “Fantastic. I can’t wait to tell Frank. Is he back from the Big Apple yet?”

  “Yes. He got in this afternoon. He’s in his office. He wanted to see you if you got back before he left for the party.”

  “What party?”

  “Did you forget? Chad is getting married this weekend, and there’s a party.”

  “Damn, I did forget. Where is it?”

  “The Monaco steak house.”

  Doug walked down the hall to his office. His good mood continued until he answered a voice message from Vanessa Cole.

  “Blaine Hastings is free on bail,” Cole said as soon as they were connected.

  “How is that possible?”

  Vanessa explained what had happened at the bail hearing. “Judge Redding is holding off on deciding if Hastings should get a new trial until we get a handle on how the two DNA samples could match. But I thought you’d want to know what happened.”

  “Thanks. I have to admit that I don’t feel safe with Hastings on the street. He threatened me when the trial went south.”

  “Do you think you’re in danger?”

  Doug thought about Cole’s question for a few seconds. “Probably not,” he answered. “Hastings is a mean son of a bitch, but he was probably just blowing off steam.”

  “If he gives you any problems, call me immediately. I might be able to get the judge to revoke his bail.”

  “Will do. And thanks for the call.”

  Doug hung up and stared out the window of his corner office. Below, the lights of Portland were starting to wink on, and the high hills that loomed over the city were beginning to fade into shadow as the sun set.

  Was he really in danger? Blaine Hastings Jr. was not someone to take lightly. Despite the question raised by the DNA tests, Doug was convinced his former client was a vicious sociopath. But Hastings wasn’t stupid, and he had to know that attacking an attorney could only work to his disadvantage. No, Doug decided, he was probably safe.

  Doug dialed Marsha. “Hi, hon.”

  “Did everything go okay?” Marsha answered.

  Doug smiled because Marsha sounded happy. “Yeah, better than I thought it would.”

  “Will you be home soon?”

  “I can’t come now. Chad Spenser is getting married, and there’s an office party at the Monaco. I forgot all about it, but I’ve got to go. You eat without me.”

  “Okay,” Marsha said. She sounded disappointed.

  “I know, babe. I miss you, too. I won’t stay late. I promise.”

  They talked some more. Then Doug hung up and started to go through his mail. That’s when he remembered that Frank wanted to talk to him.

  Doug smiled. The luckiest thing that had ever happened to him occurred twenty years ago. He’d moved to Oregon from Arkansas looking for work, and Frank Nylander had taken a chance on him when no one else would hire him.

  Doug’s personal life had also profited because of Frank. His partner had introduced him to Lois, his first wife, and later, after Lois passed, he’d hired Marsha as his secretary.

  Doug sobered when he remembered Lois’s final days. There had been endless rounds of chemo and the beyond-sadness moment when she’d passed. Doug didn’t know how he would have survived without Frank’s support in the dark days of depression and grief that had followed Lois’s death. Frank was his best friend, and Doug owed Frank everything.

  Doug decided that the stuff on his desk could wait. He got his coat and headed down the hall to Frank’s office. They could talk about Seattle and New York on the way to the restaurant.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  A narrow hallway ran between two banks of elevators on the eleventh floor of the Pacific Northwest Bank building. The hallway connected an insurance company with offices that took up one side of the building with the law offices of Douglas Armstrong and Frank Nylander, which took up the other side. At the request of the police, the building had blocked all the elevators save one from going to the eleventh floor.

  A deputy district attorney was always dispatched to the location of a homicide so he could see the scene before the body was removed. Rex Kellerman was squeamish and he hated going to crime scenes, but he was excited to discover the identity of the body that was waiting for him in the offices of Nylander & Armstrong. What if the victim was Douglas Armstrong? He smiled as he imagined Marsha Armstrong’s tears.

  Kellerman assumed a serious demeanor when he entered the firm’s reception area. Roger Dillon, Carrie Anders’s partner, a lanky African American with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, was talking to someone from the crime lab, but he cut the conversation short when he spotted the DA.

  “Sorry it took me so long,” Kellerman said. “Traffic was awful coming in.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “So, what do we have?”

  “There was a party last night at a steak house for one of the firm’s associates, who’s getting married. Most of the employees left the office Tuesday evening between four thirty and five to go to the party. Kate Monday, the receptionist, says that Frank Nylander returned from New York around four fifteen and Douglas Armstrong came back from Seattle around five thirty. They were the only ones left in the office when she left for the party around five forty-five. Neither Nylander nor Armstrong showed up at the restaurant, which surprised everyone.

  “Ken Norquist, one of the associates, came in around seven this morning because he had been doing some work on one of Armstrong’s cases. Armstrong wasn’t in his office, so he went to Nylander’s office to see if he was there. He found Nylander’s body and called 911.”

  “Cause of death?” Kellerman asked as he hid his disappointment.

  “That one is easy. Unless the autopsy turns up an exotic poison, I’m going with massive head trauma inflicted by the bloodstained stone sculpture we found on the floor next to the body.”

  “Was the sculpture from Nylander’s office?”

  Dillon nodded. “It’s some abstract thing with a lot of curves. Unfortunately, it also has a lot of heft. The receptionist told me that Nylander’s wife got it for him as a birthday present and he kept it
on his desk.”

  “Fingerprints?”

  Dillon shook his head. “It was wiped clean.”

  “Do we have an estimate for the time of death?” the prosecutor asked.

  “Sometime last night between five thirty and ten.”

  “Where is Armstrong?”

  “He hasn’t shown up yet.”

  “Does anyone know where he is?” Kellerman asked.

  “No. The receptionist called Armstrong’s house to tell him that Nylander was dead. Armstrong’s wife said he wasn’t home and didn’t come home last night.”

  “Hmm.”

  “The receptionist said that Mrs. Armstrong was very upset.”

  “Let me take a look at the body,” Kellerman said. “Then let’s talk to the employees.”

  Kellerman tried to breathe through his mouth as he followed Dillon down the hall, but he still smelled the cloying scent of death before he arrived at Nylander’s spacious corner office. Inside the office, Carrie Anders was talking to a lab technician who was snapping photographs of the room. Another forensic expert was taking measurements and placing an occasional object in a Ziploc bag.

  “Morning, Rex,” Anders said.

  Kellerman didn’t answer. He was stunned by the violence that greeted him. It was so extreme that it was hard for the DA to take in.

  Frank Nylander was sprawled across a Persian rug. His arms were stretched out in front of his head with the palms of his hands touching the carpet as if he’d tried to break his fall. His legs were spread apart and his shoe tips were pointing toward the windows. It was his head that commanded Kellerman’s attention. The back of Nylander’s skull had been crushed to pulp, and his face was surrounded by a halo of blood. The lawyer’s hair was drenched in blood, the scalp had been split in two places, and Kellerman thought he saw a piece of brain peeking through where the bone had been crushed.

  “Jesus,” Kellerman whispered. “Someone really had it in for this guy.”

  Dillon and Anders didn’t respond. Kellerman looked around the room. Most of the objects on the desk had been swept to the floor, files and desk drawers had been wrenched open, and furniture had been overturned.