Unintended Consequences - By Marti Green Page 0,12
files contained photographs of the murdered girl, her features burned beyond recognition. Surely, given George’s insistence that the dead child wasn’t his daughter, DNA testing would have been ordered, if not by the prosecution then by defense counsel. Dani stopped herself. Seventeen years ago, DNA testing was not routinely done.
Bob Wilson should have done more to discredit Sallie’s confession. His cross-examination of her was shockingly inadequate. Perhaps he thought she was a more sympathetic witness than her husband and would do more damage if he questioned her aggressively. He was wrong. Her testimony sealed George’s fate. If Wilson had cross-examined her more thoroughly, he might have been able to show inconsistencies in her story, create doubt in the jurors’ minds. Sallie mentioned the devil in her testimony for the prosecution. Were she and George devoutly religious? Had they ever confided to their pastor their concerns about their daughter? Dani didn’t know the answers because Wilson hadn’t asked those questions. Letting the jury hear Sallie’s testimony without any effort to contradict her seemed a colossal error by Calhoun’s attorney.
Dani’s brief review of the transcripts and exhibits suggested a number of avenues for appeal. Many had no doubt been raised as the case wound its way up through the court of appeals, the state supreme court, and petitions for certiorari to the United States Supreme Court. Calhoun’s case had made it to the highest court twice, a not uncommon journey for death-row inmates. She would have to wait until Melanie completed her review of the appellate briefs and decisions to see what arguments were still available. Dani still didn’t know whether she believed that George Calhoun was guilty or innocent, but she did know this: They needed to take a trip to Indiana State Prison.
Dani called the travel agent used by HIPP and booked three seats on a Monday flight to Indianapolis. After hanging up, she glanced at the clock. It was almost 4, past the time she liked to leave for home. And it was Friday to boot, the worst day for early traffic. She briefly considered calling Doug at his office to suggest he stay in the city and meet her for dinner. With Jonah so recently sick, though, she didn’t want to be far away in the evening. Even though Katie could handle any emergency, there was no substitute for the comfort of a mother’s touch.
She walked out of her office into the large common room and saw Tommy still seated at his desk. Tommy had left the Bureau after ten years because his wife couldn’t take the strain of his undercover stints, which had often kept him away from home—and their five children—for months at a time. He had a swarthy complexion, a full head of black wavy hair, greased down a bit too much for Dani’s taste, and a thick mustache. No doubt he was once handsome, but now his body, although still trim, had softened, and his years in the field showed in the lines of his face. His still had a razor-sharp mind, though, and he could uncover truths—and lies—like no other investigator in the office.
“Tommy, would you check into whether any other girls between 3 and 5 were reported missing around that time?”
“Sure.”
“And can you give me a hand?”
“I can give you both hands, baby. Just tell me where and when?”
“Give it a break, Tommy. I’m not in the mood for this now. I’ve got a bitch of a ride home and a weekend of work to look forward to.”
“Ouch. Okay, no jokes. What do you need?”
“Would you help me carry the cartons in my office down to my car?” The one perk of her job was a free parking spot in the outdoor parking lot two blocks from HIPP’s office. Monthly parking spots, when you could get them—there were waiting lists for most—went for $400 a month in the East Village. Tony, the owner of the lot, was a former exoneree freed through the efforts of HIPP. He provided HIPP with four spots, gratis. When first offered, Bruce turned them down, but Tony was so adamant about doing something for HIPP that Bruce ultimately relented. He understood that Tony’s gesture provided him with a measure of self-esteem that had been all but obliterated during his twelve years in prison.
Tommy looked at the stack of boxes. “You got it, boss.”
Out on the street, the sky was still bright, with the fragrance of sprouting buds lingering in the air. Although the temperature hovered around sixty