Fatal February (17 page)

Karl looked confused. He shuffled his notes and began questioning the detective.

“State your name and occupation, sir.”

“Harry Fonseca, detective, Homicide Division, Miami Police Department.”

“And how long have you been so employed?”

“I’ve been with the department eight years. I was a patrol officer for two years, a general detective for one year, then I was assigned to robbery for three years, and two years ago I moved to homicide.”

“Have you received any special education for your position?”

“I graduated from the police academy eight years ago, and I took a fingerprint course three years ago.”

“Were you assigned to investigate the murder of Gary Yarmouth on February 8th?”

“Yes, I was assigned as the lead investigator.”

“And what duties does the lead investigator have?”

Judge Arnold interrupted. “There’s no jury here, Mr. Morris. I don’t need to hear an explanation of what work the police do or don’t do. Just get to the meat of this thing.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Detective, when did you arrive
at the Yarmouth residence and what did you observe when you arrived?”

I got there around four fifteen or so. I talked briefly to the first officers on the scene. They had placed Mrs. Yarmouth, the defendant, in the living room. She was seated on a sofa, crying. Her clothes were bloody. There were no signs of a break-in. The front and back doors were unlocked and the alarm system was disengaged. I went upstairs and saw the deceased lying across a bed. One of the officers handed me an evidence bag containing a silver letter opener with a six-inch sharp blade.”

Karl picked up a plastic bag and brought it to our table.

“Any objection to the introduction of this letter opener?” Karl asked.

“It’s fine. No objection,” I said, standing up, hoping to shield Lillian’s eyes from the weapon.

“Okay, Counsel. It’s entered,” said Judge Arnold.

“State’s exhibit one in evidence,” the clerk said as she stamped the evidence bag.

“Was anyone else present in the house?” Karl continued his questioning.

“Just the officers. The emergency medical personnel had already left. The people from the medical examiner’s office arrived shortly after I did. They made some notes and removed the body.”

“Did you talk to the defendant?”

“Of course. I asked her if she had been home all
day. She said she had been out shopping. I asked her if she and her husband had been arguing. There was a chair overturned in the bedroom. She kept saying that she loved him. I asked her who owned the letter opener. She said it was hers, that it had been her grandmother’s. I asked her where she kept it. She said on her writing table in the bedroom.”

“Were you able to find any other witnesses to talk to?”

“One of the officers spoke to a neighbor, I believe. May I look at my report? I can’t remember who that was, but I do remember that it didn’t lead us anywhere.”

“You may refresh your recollection from the report.”

Detective Fonseca glanced through some papers. “Oh, yes, the next door neighbor claimed that she saw Mrs. Yarmouth drive into her garage that afternoon. She also saw a woman walking down the street, but she got in a car parked two doors away.”

“What else did you do that afternoon?”

“I arrested Lillian Yarmouth and charged her with the murder. It was a clear open-and-shut case. She was taken to the women’s detention center.”

“Now did you do any further investigation in the case?”

“Yes. I talked to people at the deceased’s place of business and I examined some credit card bills and phone records belonging to the deceased. There were hotel bills in New York and locally. There was also a
telephone number called numerous times on his cell phone. We retrieved the name of the person whose number was called. It belonged to a woman named Maddie Rodriguez. We located her and my partner and I interviewed her. She admitted that—”

“Objection, Your Honor. This is hearsay,” I said.

“Well, it’s part of his investigation,” Karl replied.

“Judge, it doesn’t matter what it’s part of. It’s still hearsay. It’s what someone said outside of this courtroom.”

“It is hearsay, Mr. Morris. Does it fall under any exception to the hearsay rule?” Judge Arnold asked.

“May we come sidebar?” Karl asked. He looked agitated.

The judge nodded and gestured us forward. We gathered around the judge and the court reporter.

“I have a slight problem,” Karl whispered. He gestured for the other prosecutors to join him.

“It must be more than a slight problem, if Mr. Morris needs to call out this army,” I said.

The judge smiled. “What is the problem, sir?”

We were prepared to call Ms. Rodriguez as a witness today, but we have been unable to locate her. My co-counsel have been checking with our investigator to see if she has been located. That’s why I called them up here.”

Charlene Montavo stepped into our huddle. “Your Honor, we have been on the phone with the investigator. He has checked her work and her home and no
one has seen her since yesterday. We are searching for her car and any other clues to her whereabouts, but at this time it seems she is unavailable, or has made herself unavailable.”

“So, Judge, her statements would fall under the exception of unavailability, and I could then inquire as to what she told the detective,” Karl said.

“I have no objection to this as long as I am afforded the same leeway in questioning my witnesses and cross-examining their witnesses,” I said.

“Okay, done,” said the judge. “Proceed, Counsel.”

“Detective Fonseca, what did you learn when you interviewed Maddie Rodriguez?”

“She admitted to having an affair with Gary Yarmouth over the preceding months. She further stated that she was sure that Lillian Yarmouth knew about the affair, and had been trying to get Gary to break it off, but Gary was committed to continuing the romance and divorcing his wife.”

“Did you do any other work in this case?”

“Other than writing some reports, no. We were sure that we correctly closed this case.”

“Thank you, Detective.” Karl took his seat.

I moved to the lectern, ready to cross-examine the detective, just as Catherine hurried back into the court room.

“May I have a moment with my paralegal, Judge?”

I moved back to the table where Catherine whispered to me, “Maddie Rodriguez has disappeared. The
State is going nuts trying to find her. I overheard the secretary on her cell phone with someone, it must have been one of their investigators. It sounded like he went to Palm Beach to pick her up for court and she was gone.”

“I just found that out. She must have split before she got charged with the murder,” I said. Catherine and I looked at each other and smiled.

“Detective Fonseca, did you ever follow up with the neighbor who saw a woman running away from the Yarmouth house?” I began my cross-examination.

“Well, no, I read the patrol officer’s notes, and it didn’t seem important.”

“Did you find out what type of car the runaway woman drove off in?”

“I’ll have to look at my report. Offhand, I don’t remember. Yes, a small red car.”

“Did you ever check to see what kind of car Maddie Rodriguez owned?”

“I don’t believe I did. I might have.”

“Well, did you or didn’t you?”

“I have no recollection of checking the car.”

“You stated that Mrs. Yarmouth told you she had been away shopping, came home, and found her husband bleeding in the bedroom. Did you check in any way to see if what she told you was true?”

“I saw some bags of groceries in the kitchen, and some packages were found in her car, but they could have been there for hours or even days.”

“Well, was some of the food decomposing or was there melting ice cream?”

“Not that I recall.”

“Did you ask for the names of stores Mrs. Yarmouth had visited? Did you check the receipts in the packages?”

“I don’t believe I did. Maybe another officer did.”

“Wouldn’t finding out the times Mrs.Yarmouth visited the stores have either confirmed her statement or discounted it?”

“Possibly.”

“By the way, did you read Mrs. Yarmouth her Miranda rights before questioning her?”

“Of course.”

“May I see the waiver of rights form you had her sign?”

“I didn’t give her a written form. I just read her the rights form.”

“Did you note the time of the reading of the rights form?”

“I’ll have to look at my report.”

“Certainly, go ahead.”

“I’m having a little problem finding the time.”

“It’s true, isn’t it, Detective, that you didn’t inform her of her right to remain silent and to have her attorney present until after you spoke to her and were in the process of arresting her?”

“I do see a notation that I Mirandized her at the time of her arrest.”

“Did you ever ask Lillian who else had access to the house?”

“I didn’t ask her. Maybe another officer did.”

“What about fingerprints on the letter opener? Were prints recovered?”

“There were numerous smudged prints all over the handle. There were only partial prints, not enough points to make a match.”

“What about the blood on Lillian’s clothes? Was any of it her blood?”

“No, the blood was from the deceased.”

“Were there any signs that Lillian had been involved in a struggle or a fight?”

“Not that I can recall.”

“So based on the fact that Lillian Yarmouth was the only person in the house, you charged her with murder, with no fingerprints, no follow-up with her neighbor, no investigation of where she had been that afternoon, and no idea of who else had access to the Yarmouth residence? Is that correct?”

“Objection, Your Honor.” Karl was on his feet. “That is a compound question and Ms. Katz is badgering the witness.”

“I’ll withdraw my question, Judge, and that concludes my cross-examination of this witness.”

“I have just one redirect question, Judge,” Karl said. “Detective Fonseca, did you have any doubts about whether Lillian Yarmouth was the murderer of her husband?”

“Certainly not. I have a good gut instinct regarding the perpetrators of crimes.”

I was on my feet. I was furious with such a ridiculous answer. “Your Honor, I know I’m not entitled to a recross, but this answer triggers a new area. May I ask a couple of questions?”

The detective was about to leave the witness chair, but Judge Arnold motioned him to stay put. “Go ahead, Ms. Katz, and bailiff, cancel the other hearings for this afternoon. This one is going to take a while,” the judge said.

“Detective, you’ve been working homicide cases for three years, correct?”

“Yes, three years.”

“It’s correct that you take great pride in your work?”

“Of course.”

“That would include closing cases based on thorough investigations, right?”

“That’s what I do.”

“But in this case you failed to investigate several areas and, as you just told Mr. Morris, you relied on your gut instinct to arrest Lillian Yarmouth?”

“What I meant was I see a lot of people and I can judge when they’re guilty.”

“Well, if you can do the judging, there’s no need for a court of law is there, sir?”

The detective’s face turned a lovely shade of red, as I gathered my notes and sat down.

“You’re excused, Detective Fonseca,” Judge Arnold said. “Let’s take a five minute break.”

Judge Arnold left the bench. Catherine took Lillian to the restroom, and I turned to stretch. The seats were all full in the public section, and there in the back row was Carlos, who raised his fist on his good arm like the winner in a prizefight.

I walked back to Carlos. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see the big show that’s kept us from seeing each other lately. I sure hope you never cross-examine me. You are one scary lady,” Carlos said.

“Thanks for coming. I need all the moral support I can get.” I waved as I went back to the defense table.

Lillian and Catherine returned to their seats. I explained to Lillian that Maddie Rodriguez was missing, and would not be testifying.

“That’s good for us, isn’t it?” Lillian asked.

“Yes, I think it is,” I answered. Lillian continued to look composed and calm. I wondered if she was still taking tranquilizers. “Lillian, remember to write down anything you think is important during any of the testimony.” I pushed her yellow pad back in front of her and noticed that so far there were only circular doodles on it. Too bad I’m not a psychologist and can read what they mean, I thought.

Judge Arnold reappeared. “Call your next witness, State.”

The State called Dr. Sandra Wilson, a deputy medical examiner. She had a reputation for being an excellent witness and a straight shooter. She was sworn in and took her seat, unfolding a page of notes and removing some slides from an envelope.

I leaned over to Lillian. “This testimony may be gory. If you feel you don’t want to hear it, you can leave the courtroom, but it’s probably best if you can stay,” I whispered.

“I’ll stick it out. Nothing could be worse than the way I found Gary,” she said.

Dr. Wilson was stating her ample résumé and years of experience while Lillian and I whispered.

“Now, Dr. Wilson, were you the deputy medical examiner assigned to perform the autopsy on Gary Yarmouth?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“When did you first become involved in this case?”

“I was called to go to the Yarmouth residence in Coconut Grove on the afternoon of February 8th. I viewed the body in the bedroom on the second floor. Two of my technicians removed the body and the bloody coverlet on the bed where he was discovered. I made a drawing of the scene, after making a quick examination of the body. I noted the time to be four thirty-five p.m.

“Could you tell how long the victim had been dead?”

“Rigor mortis had not yet set in; that is, the body
was not stiff, although the victim was cool to the touch. Bleeding had stopped. It could have been a matter of hours. Not long though.”