Unintended Consequences - By Marti Green Page 0,10

But Dani could do the work from home, accessible to Jonah, who felt well enough to go back to school. “As you go through the papers, see if you can find anything on these questions: Had an autopsy been performed on the murdered child? Did they match the child’s DNA to the parents? They found the body in Indiana; the Calhouns lived in Pennsylvania. Did anyone else recognize them along the way?”

“I assume you want me to chart out the issues already appealed and summarize the decisions?” Melanie asked.

“Yes, and also if there were any dissenting opinions, summarize those separately.”

“Sure. How quickly do you need it?”

“Yesterday would be good.”

“And six more months on the clock would be nice, too.”

They both felt the pressure of what lay ahead. Sitting on the floor, they each attacked a box, looking for the documents they needed. Dani found the transcripts in the second box she opened. They were the record of everything said during trial, every question, every answer, every comment, even the arguments made at the bench outside the jurors’ earshot. Usually, she skimmed through the transcripts first, getting the broad picture quickly, and then started again from the beginning, painstakingly searching for appealable errors. After Melanie collected the appellate briefs and left, Dani settled back into her chair and began her perusal.

The words on the pages became a movie reel in her mind and she became an observer, no longer in her office but sitting in the courtroom, watching the trial unfold. She visualized the prosecutor as a tall man, his bearing erect, dressed in his finest navy striped suit. She saw him walk to the jury box. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are going to hear about a horrific crime. You are going to see shocking pictures, images that no person should ever be asked to view. But you are here today because someone killed an innocent child, a four-year-old girl. Any murder is hateful, and any murder of a child is abominable. But for you to understand the full extent of how monstrous this act of murder was, you will need to see pictures of her burned body, found after she was callously buried in a forest. And when you see those pictures you will understand why the perpetrator must be found guilty and must be punished with death. I know how difficult it will be for you to sit through this trial and hear the testimony about this little girl’s death, but it will be easy for you to decide who committed this atrocity. It was the defendant, sitting over there in that chair. And the little girl he brutally murdered was his own daughter. How will you know it was that man who committed the crime? Because his own wife will tell you what happened. You will hear her say that she watched her husband kill their daughter, set her on fire, and then bury her in the forest. Ladies and gentlemen, when you go back to your room to deliberate after you’ve heard all the evidence, you will know beyond any doubt whatsoever that George Calhoun deserves to die.”

Dani skimmed through Bob Wilson’s opening statement. He made some valid points about the lack of forensic evidence, but in the movie running through her mind, she saw the jurors’ eyes glaze over.

She read quickly through the testimony in the prosecutor’s case. The most damning evidence was Mrs. Calhoun’s confession. As Dani read the transcript, she envisioned the jurors listening with rapt attention as Sallie said, “My husband beat our daughter unconscious. He poured gasoline over her body and set her afire. I watched him do it and I did nothing. I didn’t stop him. He wrapped her body in a blanket and we drove to Indiana. I was with him in the car. He pulled off the road when we came to a forest. I stayed in the car while he carried our daughter into the woods. He came back without her and we drove away.”

“Why did George do this to your daughter?” the prosecutor asked.

“She had the devil inside her. George said we had to do this to get the devil out.”

Bob Wilson limited his cross of Sallie to attacking her credibility. “Mrs. Calhoun, during the two years between your husband supposedly doing this to your daughter and the police knocking on your door, did you ever notify the authorities?”

“No.”

“Did you ever tell any friend or relative what your husband had done?”

“No.”

“And isn’t it a fact that you’ve

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