The Reversal

As I had asked her to, Atwater had kept her lab coat on when she walked over from the LAPD lab. The light blue jacket gave her a look of competence and professionalism that the rest of her didn’t convey. Atwater was very young-only thirty-one-and had blond hair with a pink stripe down one side, modeling her look after a supercool lab tech on one of the TV crime shows. After meeting her for the first time, I tried to get her to think about losing the pink, but she told me she wouldn’t give up her individuality. The jurors, she said, would have to accept her for who and what she was.

At least the lab coat wasn’t pink.

Atwater identified herself and was sworn in. After she took the witness seat I started asking questions about her educational pedigree and work experience. I spent at least ten more minutes on this than I normally would have, but I kept seeing that ribbon of pink hair and thought I had to do all I could to turn it into a badge of professionalism and accomplishment.

Finally, I got to the crux of her testimony. With me carefully asking the questions, she testified that she had conducted DNA typing and comparison on two completely different evidence samples from the Landy case. I went with the more problematic analysis first.

“Ms. Atwater, can you describe the first DNA assignment you received on the Landy case?”

“Yes, on February fourth I was given a swatch of fabric that had been cut from the dress that the victim had been wearing at the time of her murder.”

“Where did you receive this from?”

“It came from the LAPD’s Property Division, where it had been kept in controlled evidence storage.”

Her answers were carefully rehearsed. She could give no indication that there had been a previous trial in the case or that Jessup had been in prison for the past twenty-four years. To do so would create prejudice against Jessup and trigger a mistrial.

“Why were you sent this swatch of fabric?”

“There was a stain on the fabric that twenty-four years ago had been identified by the LAPD forensics unit as semen. My assignment was to extract DNA and identify it if possible.”

“When you examined this swatch, was there any degradation of the genetic material on it?”

“No, sir. It had been properly preserved.”

“Okay, so you got this swatch of material from Melissa Landy’s dress and you extracted DNA from it. Do I have that right so far?”

“That’s right.”

“What did you do next?”

“I turned the DNA profile into a code and entered it into the CODIS database.”

“What is CODIS?”

“It’s the FBI’s Combined DNA Index System. Think of it as a national clearinghouse of DNA records. All DNA signatures gathered by law enforcement end up here and are available for comparison.”

“So you entered the DNA signature obtained from semen on the dress Melissa Landy wore on the day she was murdered, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Did you get a hit?”

“I did. The profile belonged to her stepfather, Kensington Landy.”

A courtroom is a big space. There is always a low-level current of sound and energy. You can feel it even if you can’t really hear it. People whisper in the gallery, the clerk and deputy handle phone calls, the court reporter touches the keys on her steno machine. But the sound and air went completely out of Department 112 after Lisa Atwater said what she said. I let it ride for a few moments. I knew this would be the lowest point of the case. With that one answer I had, in fact, revealed Jason Jessup’s case. But from this point on, it would all be my case. And Melissa Landy’s case. I wouldn’t forget about her.

“Why was Kensington Landy’s DNA in the CODIS database?” I asked.

“Because California has a law that requires all felony arrest suspects to submit a DNA sample. In two thousand four Mr. Landy was arrested for a hit-and-run accident causing injury. Though he eventually pleaded to lesser charges, it was originally charged as a felony, thus triggering the DNA law upon his booking. His DNA was entered into the system.”

“Okay. Now getting back to the victim’s dress and the semen that was on it. How did you determine that the semen was deposited on the day that Melissa Landy was murdered?”

Atwater seemed confused by the question at first. It was a skilled act.

“I didn’t,” she said. “It is impossible to know exactly when that deposit was made.”

“You mean it could have been on the dress for a week before her death?”

“Yes. There’s no way of knowing.”

“What about a month?”

“It’s possible because there is-”

“What about a year?”

“Again, it is-”

“Objection!”

Royce stood. About time, I thought.

“Your Honor, how long does this have to go on past the point?”

“Withdrawn, Judge. Mr. Royce is right. We’re well past the point.”

I paused for a moment to underline that Atwater and I would now be moving in a new direction.

“Ms. Atwater, you recently handled a second DNA analysis in regard to the Melissa Landy case, correct?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Can you describe what that entailed?”

Before answering she secured the pink band of hair behind her ear.