“Five fingerprints.”
“Anyone else’s?”
“No.”
Brady’s questioning went on for another hour. Around ten thirty, the assistant district attorney said, “No further questions.”
Judge Varney said, “Ms. Cross, you can choose to proceed with cross-examination of Detective Frost now or finish with Sharon Lawrence.”
Sharon Lawrence’s mother stabbed at her daughter’s thigh with her index finger. Sharon Lawrence jerked, looked up from her cell phone in disgust.
Naomi looked back at me. I nodded.
She said, “The defense will start with Detective Frost.”
Chapter
90
As Naomi came out from behind the defense table, she glanced at me again, and I shot her an encouraging smile.
“She got something?” Nana Mama whispered to me.
“Maybe,” I said, and gave her hand a squeeze.
“Detective Frost,” Naomi began. “At what time did you arrive at my client’s apartment the morning after the victim’s body was discovered?”
“Nine? Nine fifteen?”
“How was Mr. Tate dressed?”
“Gray sweatpants, blue hoodie.”
“His hair was wet?”
“Correct,” Frost said. “Mr. Tate stated that he’d just gotten out of the shower when we knocked.”
“Was the shower drain searched?” Naomi asked.
“It was.”
“Any of Rashawn Turnbull’s blood found in that drain?”
“No.”
“Any blood evidence found in that drain?”
“Mr. Tate’s.”
“Did Mr. Tate tell you that he has a history of nosebleeds? That they often occur when he’s exposed to hot water?”
Frost shifted, said, “He said that.”
Naomi returned to the defense table, picked up a document, said, “The defense would like to introduce our exhibit A: medical records dating back to Mr. Tate’s childhood that reflect this ongoing problem with nosebleeds.”
Judge Varney took the documents and nodded.
If the fact that my cousin suffered nosebleeds in any way contradicted the people’s case, neither Delilah Strong, Matt Brady, nor Detective Frost showed it.