FiFty Fifty

Chapter Fourty

EDDIE

Professor Shandler was one of those guys who didn't much look like a professor. At least no kind of professor that I'd ever seen. For a start, he wasn't old. No wispy white hair. No bushy white eyebrows that looked like clouds. No cardigans, no corduroy, no wide leather shoes that a grandpa would wear.
He couldn't have been older than fifty. Jet black wavy hair that looked as though he'd put some product in it. No beard or moustache. He had pale skin that looked like it would burn if he went south of the Mason–Dixon line, and a blue pin-striped suit in a modern cut over an expensive silk shirt – blue, and silk tie – purple. The expensive suit went well with his narrow chin, high cheekbones and walnut-brown eyes. He looked more like a model in a high-end fashion magazine.
Several of the female jurors sat up a little straighter when they saw Professor Shandler. He'd worked in the NYPD forensic science lab, and had since gone out on his own into private consultancy work, where the best money lay.
He took the oath, sat with the judge's permission and Dreyer took him through his long history of qualifications and experience. At every question, Shandler gave a nod and a simple 'yes.' He had an air of authority about him. A deep voice tinged with a slight rasp that made every word sound like the gospel. Once Dreyer had impressed the jury with Shandler's credentials, he cut right to it.
'Professor, you were sent a number of hair fibers for analysis in this case, perhaps you would take us through the samples first of all, and then we'll talk about your testing?'
'Of course,' said Shandler, angling his seat to get a better look at the jury. 'I received three items for testing from the District Attorney's office. One was a hair, with at least part of it buried in a wound on the victim. The second was a sample of hair from Alexandra Avellino, and the third a sample of hair from Sofia Avellino. I refer to the latter two samples as control samples, whose origins are known to me.'
'And the first sample? Sample one?'
'This was the hair which I was to analyze and compare with the control samples.'
'Before we begin, can you tell us a little bit about human hair?'
 
'I can. Most of us have thousands of hairs on our body. An individual scalp hair is grown in a follicle of skin, which also contains a root. None of the samples I examined contained a root. Unfortunately the hair shaft, which is what I work with, is not a living part of the body that contains DNA. However, hair strands do contain certain characteristics which I can examine.'
'What are those characteristics, Professor?'
Without taking his eyes away from the jury, he set out his schtick. It was practiced, and smooth.
'Ladies and gentlemen, imagine a round target,' said Shandler. As he said the word, 'round,' he traced a wide circle with his finger, to help illustrate his point.
'The only thing in this target is a bull's eye, in the center. That is what the inside of a hair looks like. On the outer shell, we have the cuticle. This cuticle will have a pattern. Then, in the space between the outside of the hair, and the bull's eye, you have the cortex and depending on the level of melanin in the cortex, this determines the color of the hair. And then the bull's eye – this is called the medulla and it too can have a pattern and distinct structure. I look at all of these characteristics, on a microscopic level, when I examine a hair for comparison purposes.'
'What were the results of your tests?'
'Sample one, the comparison sample, shares distinct characteristics with the hair sample provided from the defendant, Sofia Avellino.'
Dreyer paused, again, to let the jury absorb this.
'Can you be more specific on how you came to this conclusion?'
'I can. The morphological characteristics were identical. The samples shared
an imbricate cuticle pattern. They were also of the same pigmentation. The medulla of both samples was of similar diameter, identical continuous pattern and identical vacuolated structure. The only conclusion, based on my forensic examination, is that the hair found on the body of the victim probably came from Sofia Avellino.'
'May I remind the jury, this hair was actually embedded in one of the many stab wounds found on the victim's body. What does that tell you, Professor?'
'I am a scientist, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. I follow logic and established scientific principle. The Locard Exchange Principle states that when two people are in contact with each other, there will be some transference of material between the two. It is probable that the transference of this hair took place at or close to the time of the murder, given the hair from Sofia Avellino had been pushed into the wound, presumably by the blade.'
'Thank you, Professor.'
I glanced to my left, saw Sofia with her lips set firm, shaking her head. It's

hard to listen to someone who is telling lies about you. In front of you. Her forehead wrinkled, and she wiped at her eyes before the tears came, shunning them and willing them not to come.
Harry patted her arm, leaned behind her and caught my attention.
'I'm going to pick up our friend. Text me when you're ready,' said Harry.
I gave him the thumbs up, and Harry left the courtroom.
I looked around, and noticed then that Dreyer had sat his ass back down. A
tapping noise distracted me and I saw Judge Stone, prodding the face of his watch with his finger and looking directly at me.
'Apologies, Your Honor,' I said, getting to my feet.
Beneath my file of papers I had five brown envelopes. I picked them up and made my way around the defense table. I handed one to Dreyer, one to Kate, and gave the other three to the judge's clerk.
'Your Honor, Professor Shandler is one of many witnesses on the prosecution's list. I didn't know if Professor Shandler would actually be called to testify until now, and that is the reason why I have not served this report on my colleagues or the court. It is relevant evidence that I may have to use in my cross-examination of this witness.'
Stone refused to take an envelope from the clerk, and whispered, too loudly, 'Get that out of my face.'
He realized he'd been overheard, and coughed. Then said, 'Whatever it is should have been served weeks ago. I have no inclination to admit this evidence.'
'Your Honor, failing to admit the evidence at the appropriate moment would be grounds for a challenge for bias.'
I could see his ears pin back, the creases disappear from his forehead. Last thing Stone wanted was this case to be halted and his decisions thus far to be put under scrutiny from another judge.
'Very well. If you have an argument as to why I should allow this witness, your co-defendant and the District Attorney's office to be ambushed by your material, then I'll allow it.'
'I can deal with some general matters first,' I said. Stone waved his hand at me to get on with it. 'Professor Shandler, good morning.'
'Good morning, Mr. Flynn.'
He was courteous, professional. Calm. He'd testified in almost twenty high- profile cases in his career, and never once had his findings or testimony been successfully challenged in an appellate court. The corner of his mouth turned into a half-smile.

I glanced at my phone on the defense table. I had a text ready to go to Harry. All I had to do was hit send, and he would come in with the cavalry. The empty seat beside Harry sent a black cloud into my head. She should be here. Harper should be alive.
I closed my eyes, just long enough to flip the switch.
When I opened them, Shandler's expression had changed. He looked almost sorry for me. He must've thought I was a rank amateur, struggling to come up with a decent question.
'Professor, before we go any further, I will give you one opportunity to recant your testimony to this jury. I want you to explain to the jury that you have exaggerated your findings, and your report and analysis is fundamentally flawed. I'll give you ten seconds.'