“And in your experience, is the absence of tire marks significant?”
Battles wanted to object, but at an Article 32 hearing, only relevance and privilege objections applied. Cho was clearly asking Jensen to speculate. She knew Rivas would also give an expert investigator great leeway at the hearing.
“Normally, in a situation involving an impact, either with another car or, in this instance, a pedestrian, we will find tire marks indicating the driver of the vehicle tried to stop, or swerved. The absence of tire marks can be an indication that the impact was intended. It can be an indication that the driver didn’t see the pedestrian—either because it was dark, the driver was distracted, had fallen asleep, or maybe was under the influence of drugs or alcohol.”
Again, Trejo showed no emotion.
Cho established that the traffic lights at that intersection were working properly and that there was no surveillance videotape of the intersection from any of the businesses. In response to the next question, Jensen said, “Subsequently, we determined there was a traffic camera approximately one hundred yards west of the intersection controlled by the Washington State Department of Transportation, and we obtained a copy of that video.”
“Before we get to that video, what else did you find of significance at the crime scene?”
Jensen discussed the car part found by the patrol officer. Cho signaled to Clark, who handed him the part, sealed in a see-through evidence bag. Cho handed the bag to Jensen, who testified that he took it to the Washington State Patrol Crime Lab, which provided him a serial part number and determined it had come off a Subaru. He also testified to taking it to a Subaru dealership and determining that the vehicle was black in color.
“It was from the front headlight and turn signal, on the passenger side of the vehicle.”
Jensen testified that knowing the type of car, as well as its color, made it easier to go back through the video and locate the Subaru.
Cho set forth the groundwork for having the video played in the courtroom. Since Battles and Rivas had both seen the video, they knew it did not show the impact and would not be disturbing to the gallery. Cho asked Jensen to narrate the video. As he did, Battles heard more muted sobs behind her. Cho asked that the video be stopped when the dark vehicle appeared in the picture frame. He was milking this for all he could.
“The film is in black-and-white,” Jensen said, “but we can see from this angle the light changes from the top light, red, to the bottom light, green, to allow traffic on South Henderson Street to proceed.”
The car continued through the intersection without slowing, the impact with D’Andre Miller hidden by the angle of the camera.
Cho waited a beat. Then he said, “Were you able to determine the speed at which the car in the video was traveling?”
“Yes.”
“Would you explain how you did that?”
“It’s physics. The video is 30 frames a second. We measured the distance between the apartment building on the southeast corner and the closed restaurant on the northeast corner.”
“How far was that?”
“That was 193 feet. It took 75 frames for the car to travel between those two points, or 2.25 seconds. If you divide the feet by the seconds, you determine that the car was traveling 77 feet per second. We know there are 5,280 feet in a mile, and 3,600 seconds in an hour. If you divide the first number by the second number, you get the conversion factor of 1.466 feet per second equaling one mile per hour. To convert 77 feet per second to miles per hour, we divided 77 feet per second by the conversion factor 1.466 and determined the car in that video was traveling at just over 52 miles per hour.”
Cho took his time asking the next question. “Detective, what’s the speed limit on Renton Avenue South at that intersection?”
“It’s 30 miles per hour,” Jensen said.
Cho let that thought linger. Trejo continued to stare at the wall.
Jensen testified about the patrol officers’ discovery of the car in the backyard and his ability to confirm the car using the piece of the headlight cover found in the road.
“Did you impound the vehicle?” Cho asked.
“We did, and I sought a search warrant to search the interior.”
Jensen spent time going through the search of the vehicle, the blood located on the driver’s cloth seat belonging to Trejo, Trejo’s fingerprints, and the DNA evidence. Cho asked that TCI’s report be admitted into evidence, then discussed with Jensen the fact that the vehicle had been wiped down with an antiseptic wipe.
“What deductions, if any, did you make from that information?”
“In my opinion, the only reason someone would wipe clean the air bag and try to clean up the blood would be if they were trying to wipe away DNA evidence that they’d been driving the car when the air bag deployed.”
“Did you find anything else within the car?”
“Yes,” Jensen said. “We found a receipt in the backseat dated the night of the accident. It was for the purchase of two bottles of the energy drink Red Bull from a convenience store in Renton.”
Cho established the date and the time of purchase and went through the steps to authenticate the receipt, sealed in an evidence bag, and introduced it into evidence.
“We ran the license plate and registration, and we were advised that the car had been reported as stolen by the owner the morning after the accident.”
“And in your experience was that significant?”
Jensen grimaced and looked off before readdressing Cho. “It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up a bit—just the coincidence of it.”
“And who was the registered owner of the vehicle?”
Jensen looked at Battles’s side of the courtroom. “Laszlo Trejo.”
CHAPTER 21
Del had received a call on his cell phone early that morning from Mike Melton, who said the Technical and Electronic Support Unit had successfully secured Allie’s e-mails and text messages from her computer and her phone. Because the request for the information had been signed in under Faz’s name, Del called him at home and asked if he’d take a drive with him to the Washington State Crime Lab.
Del picked him up.
“You spoke to Maggie?” Faz asked from the passenger seat of Del’s Impala.
“I did.”
“Is she still doing better?”
“Day by day. She made hamburgers and milk shakes for the boys, which thrilled them, and me. She’s still not eating much, but it’s better.”
“Is she seeing the counselor?”
“Twice a week now.”
“And you told her we got the e-mails and text messages off of Allie’s phone?”
“She knows. She asked to see them when I’m through.”
“She has a right,” Faz said, nodding.
“Yeah, she does,” Del said. “I just hope she can take it. I’m not sure I can.”
A minute passed. KJR Sports Radio filled the silence. Faz said, “Have you seen that prosecutor again?”
Del looked across the car. “Celia McDaniel?”
“Yeah. The good-looking black lady.”
Del smiled. “I just bought her a drink after work to make up for being rude.”