rushing anyone and seems to enjoy being in control. With only three years under his belt, he seems quite accomplished and confident.
Cannon bypasses the flawed testimony the jury heard from Paul Norwood—it’s briefed extensively by Mazy—and instead drills into the real proof. Now that we have the flashlight and the spatter, we no longer have to guess. On the big screen Benderschmidt presents photos taken by him recently and compares them to the trial exhibits used twenty-three years ago. The specks have faded in color over time, even though the lens was apparently shielded from light. He identifies the three largest ones and points to his sample. More enlarged photos, more forensic jargon. Benderschmidt launches into what quickly becomes a tedious science lesson. Maybe this is because my gene pool runs shallow with science and math, but whether I’m bored or not is insignificant. His Honor is absorbing it.
Kyle begins with the basics: human blood cells are different from animal blood cells. Two large images appear on the screen and Benderschmidt goes into professor mode. The image on the left is a greatly enlarged red blood cell taken from blood on the lens. The image on the right looks similar and is a red blood cell taken from a rabbit, a small mammal. Humans are mammals and their red blood cells are similar in that they do not have nuclei. Reptiles and birds have nucleated red blood cells, we do not. The professor taps his laptop, the images change, and we are lost in the world of red blood cells. The cell’s nucleus is small and round and serves as the cell’s command center. It controls the cell’s growth and reproduction. It is surrounded by a membrane. And on and on.
Attached to our petition was Benderschmidt’s full report, including pages of impenetrable stuff on cells and blood. I confess that I have not read it entirely, but something tells me Judge Kumar has.
The bottom line: Animal red blood cells vary greatly among species. He is almost certain that the blood on the lens of the flashlight found in Quincy’s car by Bradley Pfitzner came from a small mammal. He is emphatically certain that it is not human blood.
We did not bother with DNA testing the two samples because there was no reason to. We know that the blood on Keith’s shirt was indeed his. We know that the blood on the lens was not.
Watching Cannon and Benderschmidt tag-team through the testimony is like watching a finely choreographed dance routine. And they had never met until yesterday. If I were defending the $50 million lawsuit roaring down the pike, I would start talking settlement.
It’s almost 1:00 p.m. when Benderschmidt finishes off the rote series of lame questions tossed up by Carmen. Judging by his rail-thin frame, His Honor cares little about lunch, but the rest of us are weak with hunger. We break for an hour and a half. Frankie and I drive Kyle to the airport, stopping for a quick drive-through burger along the way. He wants to know as soon as possible when there is a ruling. He loves his work and loves this case and is desperate for an exoneration. Bad science convicted Quincy, and Kyle wants to clean up the mess.
For the past seven months, Zeke Huffey has enjoyed his freedom so much that he’s managed to avoid another arrest. He’s on probation in Arkansas and can’t leave the state without permission from his parole officer. He says he’s clean and sober and determined to remain so. A nonprofit loaned him a thousand dollars for his initial survival, and he’s working part-time at a car wash, a burger place, and a lawn maintenance company. He is surviving and has repaid almost half of his loan. Guardian bought him a plane ticket, and he takes the stand looking tanned and healthier.
His performance in the first hearing before Ole Judge Plank was exemplary. He owned his lies and, while blaming Pfitzner and a bad system, said he knew what he was doing. He had been planted as a snitch and had delivered beautifully. Now, though, he deeply regrets his lies. In a poignant moment that catches everybody off guard, Zeke looks across the courtroom at Quincy and says, “I did it, Quincy. I did it to save my own skin, and I sure wish I hadn’t done it. I lied to save me and to send you away. I’m so sorry, Quincy. I’m not asking for forgiveness, because if