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Why, Romeo, Art Thou Mad?
"Are you going to be all right?" Holly asked.
"I dunno," Lorna mumbled, over her latte. "Caffeine is good. Sleep would have been better. Thanks for the ride."
"No problem," Holly smiled. "Good luck testifying."
"Nah, I'll probably get bumped again."
"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" The bailiff asked.
"I do," Lorna replied.
"Mrs. Perry," said the attorney for the family of Armstrong's girlfriend, a man named Quentin Corey. He slid out of his seat and, as he walked toward her, his eyes never left hers. Standing in front of her, hands behind his back, he swayed lightly, like a cobra about to strike. "How much did you know about Romeo Armstrong?" he asked.
"Very little," Lorna replied.
"Can you be more specific?"
"Well, I knew he was a celebrity, and that he played for the Forty-Niners."
"Did you recognize him at the scene?"
"No," Lorna replied. "I was told by one of the CSU who he was."
"So the officers on scene knew who he was?"
"Yes."
"So would it be fair," Corey said, suddenly in motion, "to say that the officers who were handling the investigation might be interested in protecting a well-known sports celebrity whom they admire?"
"Objection, your honor," the attorney for Armstrong's estate called. "She couldn't possibly know what the other officers were thinking."
"My job is to determine time, cause, and mode of death," Lorna said. "Not cover up for celebrities."
"Come now Mrs. Perry," Corey said. "The SFPD knew that there would be public backlash if they knew Romeo Armstrong was a killer, am I right?"
"Objection!" yelled Armstrong's lawyer.
"Withdrawn," Corey said. "Mrs. Perry, what possible reason could the SFPD have for claiming that Armstrong wasn't the aggressor in this case?"
"The evidence doesn't match," Lorna said.
"What evidence is that?" asked Corey. He turned and pointed to Jefferson Lambert, seated in the gallery. "Detective Lambert produced a case against Armstrong that was strong enough for the District Attorney's office. Now what evidence do you have that he didn't?"
"That's just it," Lorna said, angrily. "It's the evidence he didn't have that makes his case flawed."
"Can you clarify that?" Corey asked, sarcastically. "We're not all scientists here."
"Armstrong had just gotten out of the shower," Lorna said. "If he had killed Regina before his shower, there would have been blood traces in the bathroom. There weren't. If he had killed her after his shower, there would have been blood on him and water in the bedroom where her body was found. There wasn't."
"Couldn't he have cleaned the bathroom?"
"Armstrong, his wife, and Regina all died within minutes of each other. He didn't have time to clean."
"And you think that proves conclusively, and without a doubt, that Armstrong was innocent?"
"It's a stronger case than Lambert's," Lorna said. Corey snuffled through an arrogant smile at that.
"Mrs. Perry, what kind of shape was Romeo Armstrong in when you saw him?"
"He was dead."
"No, no," Corey said. "Physically, was he in good shape?"
"He was an athlete," Lorna replied, "a body builder. He was in very good shape."
"I see," Corey said, thoughtfully. He scratched at his chin for a moment, looking away, and when he continued, he was looking at the jury. "What kind of tests did you order on Armstrong when he got to your lab?"
"Standard toxicology."
"Which is what?"
"The chem lab looks for barbiturates, narcotics, and alcohol."
"And how did you conclude that those tests were all you needed?"
"The mode of death was quite apparent," Lorna replied. There were some chuckles from around the courtroom.
"I see," Corey said. "And what did you find in those tests?"
"Trace amounts of alcohol and safe levels of Cortisone."
"Did you happen to find any steroids?"
"We didn't look," Lorna said.
"Why not?" Corey asked, looking confused.
"We can't afford to run unnecessary tests," Lorna replied.
"Unnecessary?" Corey said, with overly dramatic disbelief. "Didn't you just tell me not a minute ago that Armstrong was a body-builder?"
"Um, yes," Lorna replied, confused.
"And didn't you also tell me that you had found Cortisone in his blood?"
"Yes," Lorna said.
"Mrs. Perry," Corey said with a shrug. "Do you have a medical degree?"
"Yes, I do," Lorna replied.
"And you don't know that a combination of steroid use and Cortisone use can cause psychotic episodes?" Corey asked, sarcastically. "Mrs. Perry, how many of your medical courses did you sleep through?"
"Objection!" Armstrong's attorney said. "Your honor..."
"Watch it, Corey," the judge said.
"Sorry your honor," Corey said. "I'm done now, no further questions. Thank you, Mrs. Perry," he said, with a flourish, "you've been very helpful."
Lorna staggered down the hallway and tried the door to the apartment, hoping it wasn't locked; it wasn't. Inside, she found the apartment dark except for a half-dozen scattered candles and a light coming from the kitchen. She was in the process of taking off her coat when she realized that the floor was covered with rose petals and the stereo was lightly playing Mel Torme's version of "Isn't it Romantic?"
Laying her coat on the back of the couch, Lorna followed the rose petals into the dining room. The trail turned into the bedroom, but Lorna continued through the dining room into the kitchen, where she found Ford busily chopping shallots. She crept up behind him and slipped her arms around him and leaned her head on his back.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Mmm," Ford said, taking sniffs at the air above the oven. Then, in a fake growl, he said, "can you smell what The Wok is cooking?"
Lorna chuckled.
"You're not supposed to be off the path," Ford said.
He turned around and led her out of the kitchen, back to the path of roses. Keeping his hands on her shoulders, he led her through the bedroom and into the bathroom, which was lit only by candles. Lorna was delighted to find a fresh, warm bath waiting for her, more rose petals floating on top of the water.
"I heard about the trial," Ford said. "I figured you might need to relax."
"I love you," Lorna said, shrugging off her vest.
"And I also wanted to make up for the party," Ford said.
"It's all right," Lorna said.
"No," Ford replied. "I was just upset, and I shouldn't have left you in the lurch."
"What were you so upset about?"
"It's silly," Ford said, shaking his head. "Just something I was going to ask you."
"Well," Lorna said, sliding into the tub, a teasing look in her eye. "Why don't you ask me now?"
"I, uh, I can't. I don't, um, have everything I need."
"So go get it," Lorna suggested.
"I can't," Ford said. "It's gone."
"What do you mean it's..." Lorna started to say, and then realization crept across her face. "Is that what was making so much noise in the..."
Ford nodded.
"D'oh!" Lorna said, smacking her forehead and sliding under the water.
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