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Yesterday was a short day. The only testimony came from yet another Crime Scene Unit detective, Charles Reiss, who took 63 photos of Sean Bell’s Altima at the NYPD garage after it had been towed there for evidence preservation, and photos of two gates in front of a building on Liverpool Street that appeared to have been impacted by the Altima. Because this set of Altima photos was taken once it had been removed from the scene, we could see its entire front including the point of impact with the unmarked police minivan. The whole front bumper was off and the right front passenger-side wheel was turned awkwardly in, “dramatically” so, Reiss said. The front driver’s side tire was flat. The passenger windows were missing. In examining the glass recovered from those windows, Reiss said they didn’t seem to be tinted, which one can determine by the way the glass breaks.

There was some, but not as much, damage to the car’s rear: the point where the trunk meets the body of the car was askew, the trunk was ajar, there was a bullet hole in the trunk lid, the back bumper was damaged, and the rear deck inside the car was covered with glass.

Reiss took several hair and fiber samples and serological (body fluid) swabs from inside the car and sent them to the lab, and he, too, documented the car’s ballistic damage. He went through all the bullet holes and bullets recovered in the car, most of which went through the passenger side of the car. Reiss tried but was unable to collect any latent fingerprints from inside or on the car.

In examining the scene, Reiss saw glass splattered on the ground in front of two gates covering pedestrian and vehicular entrances to a building on Liverpool Street located diagonally behind the Altima, as well as a damaged lock to the pedestrian gate, chipped painting on the adjacent vehicular red gate, and chipped red paint on the Altima’s rear bumper. He concluded from all of this evidence that the Altima may have crashed into the gates. He therefore obtained paint samples from the rear of the Altima and both gates and sent them to the lab for analysis. When asked whether there was any doubt in his mind that the Altima had been involved in multiple collisions that morning, sustaining damage to front and back, Reiss said “no.”

Reiss’s testimony about the two collisions is important because it contradicts earlier eyewitness testimony by exotic dancer Marseilles Payne. Ms. Payne had said she saw the unmarked police minivan crash once into the Altima, followed immediately by shooting. She said the Altima never backed up into the building and came forward again crashing into the minivan, which is the defense contention.

And that concludes weeks three of the trial.

It’s kind of weird how the trial is a big deal on one hand, and on another, it’s not. There’s a fairly large media presence, though some days more than others. N.J. Burkett from News Channel 7 was back from Albany yesterday; he breezed in halfway through the testimony. There’s a total of four sketch artists — all of whom seem quite taken with Detective Oliver; from where I’m sitting I can usually see the progressing drawings of two to three of them and one day all three had nothing on their canvasses but his profile. He is rather charismatic and is located the closest to them, but still, I wanted to laugh when I saw three paintings of exactly the same thing. Earlier in the week when the judge briefly recessed the case to hear another item on his docket and the defendants had to leave the front area, one sketch artist actually followed Oliver around the room. He looked up at her and smiled kind of self-consiously. He looks at ease with all the attention — not like he is eating it up but not uncomfortable either. Detective Isnora on the other hand usually sits slightly hunched over and head slightly down. And Detective Cooper, charged with the least serious of the offenses, kind of sits off to the side, on the fringe. Still, I wanted to stand up and applaud when one of the artists actually began a drawing of Detective Cooper yesterday.

As for the families: the Bell family is always present, especially Sean’s mother, father, and Nicole, his fiance. There’s a large man who always sits next to the father, who I suspect is Sean’s brother. And Nicole’s row of friends are always there for support. Her lawyer is often present, and Sharpton shows up about once a week and for brief periods of time. On the defense side, the second and third rows are equally packed with police officers. I don’t know the detectives’ families, but I suspect some are there. There was a cherubic-faced but worried-looking woman who looked just like Detective Isnora but white-Hispanic, not black, talking to him the other day during brief recess.

And as for the spectators: the courtroom is often fairly full by late morning but the regulars are becoming fewer and fewer. We all sit in the same seats and are kind of getting to know each other, if mainly by sight. There’s an older man with a limp and a thicket of white curly hair who sits diagonally behind me and I honestly worried about him after not seeing him for two days in a row. Thursday I met a woman who always sits near me. She told me she’s a police officer and her son’s currently studying at John Jay College of Criminal Justice. “That could have been my son,” she said referring to Bell. “I know police procedure. I’m here because we need answers.”

I’ve been asked a few times why I’m there. I think I am just about the only white regular who’s not official press and not associated with the police so it is probably curious. The guards outside keep trying to send me to jury duty. They have police barricades set up outside the courthouse separating the main entrance from a side entrance which leads to a narrow hallway, thronged by police guards, reporters, and a large TV camera, then on to the main courtroom. Every morning I start to walk up the courthouse steps around the barricade and toward the side door but am stopped and directed around the other way, behind the jurors. I simply say “Sean Bell” and they say, “oh,” and let me continue on my way. Thursday when I was walking along to the proper door and heard a guard call out “miss, miss,” then another say, “naw, she’s here for Sean Bell,” I considered it a minor victory.

The above was said by my favorite attorney, defense counsel Anthony Ricco, when he asked the prosecution’s last witness of the day, on cross, whether she was relieved when the police arrived at her house to ensure she was okay and to search for an errant bullet that pierced her living room window during the shooting. The witness, Maria Rodrigues, nodded almost instinctually, then looked out into the crowd of spectators and realized the context. “Yeah, yeah,” she continued, under her breath. I personally feel better when the police arrive after I’ve called 911 (which has only happened twice in my life — once in college and once over something that happened not long ago here), but then I’ve always lived in largely white, middle-class areas where the police are almost always a positive presence…

Today’s spectators included a group of local high-school students from a school specializing in criminal justice, and their two very enthusiastic teachers. Sweet. And it turned out to be a good day for them to attend because Al Sharpton made a rare appearance (this is the only third time I’ve seen him here); he stayed for the morning testimony then gave a press conference at lunchtime outside and was gone by the afternoon.

Anyway, all of today’s testimony consisted of eyewitness accounts of people who lived on Liverpool Street, where the shooting occurred. Well, almost all. First on was Detective Christopher Florio from the crime scene unit who responded to North Shore Hospital to photograph the officers involved and their injuries. So, full length photos of the five plainclothes officers who fired weapons that night were shown, followed by a photo of the cut thumb of Detective Carey (not charged here), and another picture of Detective Isnora’s smallish shin abrasion sustained when Bell’s car hit him. We also saw photos Florio took of all five guns and ammo recovered. There was a small amount of dried blood near the front of Detective Isnora’s Glock. Update: I hadn’t thought much of this evidence (the small amount of blood on the gun) when it was presented in court because I thought it could have come from a number of places, but according to news reports here and here and here, apparently some, like Al Sharpton, calling the “bloody gun” a “smoking gun”, are surmising that it meant Detective Isnora was shooting from very close range, enabling him to see the men in Bell’s car were weaponless. I think we’ll have to wait for other evidence, though, including tests indicating whose blood was on that gun, to derive any meaning from it).

Next was Detective Thomas Forte, also from CSU, who examined ballistic damage to the Green Ford Explorer parked on the side of the street. Because the car was never examined by the original CSU detective, Detective Rivera, the car’s owner Bernardino Dossantos (who would testify next) brought it to the Task Force’s garage, leaving Forte to examine it two weeks after the shooting. Forte found on it two bullet impact marks (meaning the bullet hit the area but didn’t pierce it and make an actual hole): one on the front passenger quarterpanel and one on the rear passenger-side door. Both impact marks tested positive for lead (bullet) presence.

Dossantos, the owner of the Explorer who lived around the corner from Liverpool, testified next. From Portugal, he could probably have used an interpretor; he had some real trouble understanding complicated, nuanced questions, particularly those posed by the defense. Nevertheless, he was pretty funny. Speaking in his thick accent, he was one of those charmingly authentic, no nonsense people. He literally came from his job as a construction worker, covered in dust, sweat, and yellow safety vest, and he made it clear up front he was missing some valuable work time here. The attorneys were good humored and promised they would hurry.

Dossantos was sleeping at 4:15 a.m. on 11/25/06, when his wife heard shots and woke him. He then heard about 8-10 shots himself, coming from Liverpool. He dressed and walked out onto that street, where he saw Lieutenant Napoli’s Toyota Camry. Three men were behind it — two standing above a black man, Bennefield, who was lying on the ground, bleeding from the head. As emergency workers helped him into an ambulance, Bennefield said, “watch my legs, watch my legs.”

Dossantos’s wife told him there was some damage to his Explorer, which was parked in front of his house on the side of the street. He claimed he left the Explorer in that position the whole day, only moving it the following morning, which contradicts Rivera’s earlier testimony that he couldn’t examine the Explorer on the day of the shooting because it had been moved from within the crime scene tape before he could get to it. In any event, Dossantos brought the truck down to the NYPD Task Force’s garage two weeks after the shooting. “Of course I bring it, I want pay!” he said, all seriousness. Everyone laughed. He looked out at us like we were nuts, before assuring us the NYPD did indeed compensate him for the damage. When asked if he had walked around his house to examine it for any damage, he frowned and said, “No, no, not my house, I rent, I don’t care to look,” as if it was a crazy question.

In the afternoon, the court heard from Robert Hernandez, who lived in the house at the corner of Liverpool and 95th Avenue and whose aluminum-filled chain link fence sustained two bullet holes. At 4:14 a.m. on 11/25/06, he was in his living room trying to find the remote control to shut off his TV when he heard shouting followed by a gunshot. He couldn’t make out the contents of the shouts, but heard two male voices. He then heard a gunshot, a 3/4 of a second pause, then a barrage of gunfire. He looked out his living room window to see Napoli’s Camry with its headlights on and the front doors open and a light-skinned man wearing a blue sweater and jeans crouching behind one of the doors. The man suddenly turned and ran down the street.

Hernandez looked down the street and saw a man holding a silver gun leaning against a black Honda parked on the side of the street. He then saw two dark-skinned men standing next to his fence and above another man, Bennefield, who was lying on the ground complaining that his legs hurt.

One of the standing men said to Bennefield, “Why you runnin’?”

Bennefield said, “I didn’t do nothing.”

Standing man said, “If you didn’t do nothing then why you running?”

Hernandez then heard someone else say “The cops are coming,” before hearing sirens.

Hernandez ran upstairs to get a better view. From there he saw Bell’s Altima collided with the police minivan.

About five minutes later Hernandez saw several uniformed officers in the area, including one who was inspecting his backyard with a flashlight. Later that morning, Hernandez went downstairs to survey the damage. He saw a bullethole on both sides of his corner fence — the Liverpool side and the side bordering 95th Avenue, which intersected with Liverpool. He saw Dossantos’s Explorer across the street bearing a dent and a neighbor’s minivan parked down the street with a shattered window.

Hernandez’s wife, whom Hernandez directed to call 911, heard a car screeching away. Her 911 call was played in court. She sounded very meek and frightened, saying, “people are yelling, cars are screeching, there are many shots.”

Significantly, at the time he witnessed the events, Hernandez hadn’t known any of the men he saw — the man leaning on the Honda, the man crouching behind the Camry door, or the two men standing over Bennefied — were police officers. He thought the whole thing was a “gang situation.” “Most of the guys who go into Kalua Club are thugs,” he said.

Before the final witness for today, Justice Cooperman held a short recess so that he could briefly take care of another matter on his docket, which he sometimes does. I had to run to the bathroom, and, by the time I returned, they were already in the middle of the matter, but it sounded like Cooperman and the lawyers were trying to schedule a man’s sentencing date. After they agreed on a day, the man, black, was taken, in handcuffs, out of the room by officers. As he went he looked out at us, at the ridiculously large, packed courtroom. Something tells me his trial wasn’t quite so well attended. A woman sitting down the row from me stood up and waved out to him. He looked at her and for the split second they had, locked eyes. As soon as he was taken from the room, she sat briefly, looking forlorn, then quickly rose and, excusing herself, passed by me. I felt so horrible for her, as I always feel for the women — the wives and mothers of the defendants.

But more, this man, who had obviously been held for his sentencing date in Rikers, scruffy, hair unwashed, and in torn clothes, was such a contrast to the three defendant detectives in this case, all of them dressed in expensive-looking suits — particularly Detective Oliver — clean, polished, well cared for. I’ve often seen the detectives leaving the nice Italian restaurant down the street from the courthouse with their lawyers and /or a large group of men from the Police Detectives Endowment Association, all of whom are present for support in the courtroom as well. I realize there are reasons why some defendants are remanded to Rikers to await trial and sentencing and others are not — some are considered serious flight risks or a danger to the community or can’t make bail — but it’s still sad there’s such a sharp disparity of treatment.

Last was the aformentioned Maria Rodrigues, who lived in the house on Liverpool whose living room window was pierced by a bullet. At 4:15 on that morning she was sleeping in her bedroom, located at the back of the house, when she heard a noise. Her husband woke too and told her he thought they were gunshots. Soon she heard the sound of breaking glass, which she knew was coming from her living room. She called out to her teenage children to stay in bed, in their rooms. She thought she heard about 10-12 shots in all, and after they were finished, she heard someone yell out, “get down” or “stay down.”

Minutes later, she heard a knock at her door. A voice identified itself as that of a police officer, who’d come to make sure the family was all right. She opened the door, told the officers she was okay, and they searched for a bullet, not finding anything. She saw her window was broken. Later that day another detective came by, finding the bullet in a lampshade near the window.

Outside, she saw that her husband’s car, a blue Mitsubishi parked in front of the house, had a partially shattered windshield, and it looked as if a bullet had entered through the back driver’s side door, passed through the front seat’s headrest, and exited through the front window.

Yesterday’s testimony consisted of two Port Authority officers staffing the Air Train station struck by a bullet from the shooting, and the Crime Scene Unit detective who examined that scene and photographed clothing of Sean Bell and Joseph Guzman, and Detective Isnora’s injuries.

First on was Port Authority Officer John Cea who was on routine patrol on the elevated subway platform of the Air Train, which ran north of Liverpool Street, where the shooting occurred. With him was his partner, Officer Brian Donnelly, who testified after him, a “Red Coat” staffer helping to direct passengers, a Transportation Security Administrator standing near the informational screens, and three civilians.

Around 4:13 a.m. they heard gunfire outside the terminal consisting of a few slow “pop pops” then a rapid round of succession. Cea immediately ran for cover behind a steel wall but Donnelly approached the Southern window to see what was going on. Right then, a bullet went through that window, shattering the glass, some of which lodged in Donnelly’s forehead and face. Donnelly then ran and Cea yelled out at the civilian passengers to “get down.” A man abandoned his suitcase and ran and two women ducked down behind a central informational stand. The Red Coat ran as well, but the TSA officer just stood there, then slowly ducked. A train pulled up and let a couple of customers off. Cea and Donnelly shouted out at them, but couldn’t remember exactly what they said.

After the gunfire, which lasted about 20-30 seconds, ended, Cea and Donnelly got everyone out of the terminal and down to street level, walked down to the street below to see if the officers who’d arrived needed help, then went back to the Air Train station and looked for ballistics evidence. They found a bullet on the floor and a copper bullet smudge on the north side of the platform across from the broken window. Cea put an informational pamphlet over the bullet to preserve it as evidence.

Cea sustained sprains to his left shoulder and wrist, likely when he hit the ground for cover, and was treated at Mary Immaculate Hospital. Donnelly sustained a torn rotator cuff and a sprained lumbar for which he received rehabilitation and surgery and was out of work for a year and four days.

Three surveillance cameras captured the scene. After about an hour-long side-bar, during which the courtroom was cleared and we stood outside in the lobby (likely so the attorneys and judge could decide which bits of the tape would be received into evidence), they showed the tapes on the monitors in court. The second one, showing the south side of the platform, was the most graphic. “Damn!” someone yelled as Donnelly was sprayed by a burst of blown window glass.

In the afternoon, Detective Greg Anzalone from the Crime Scene Unit testified. He recovered the bullet in the hall of the platform that Cea had found, and took measurements of a bullet hole in the window and a copper impact marking on the opposite wall.

His testimony about where he found everything ended up providing the comic relief of the day, which I think we all needed after that insanely long recess. In days of yore they used to have a diagram or photo set up in the courtroom and the witness would walk up to it and mark an X, or a “B” for bullet and “M” for marking or whatever they wanted. With this new technology, everyone — meaning, the witness, judge, each prosecutor, each defense attorney and each defendant — has a computer-generated image on their own computer screen. The witness is supposed to take a stylus and “mark” the area on their little computer screen where they found whatever they found. The marking then shows up on everyone else’s screens and on the large monitors on the wall above the judge for spectators (and I guess for jurors if there were any) to see. So far everyone’s making a little dot so small I don’t see how anyone can see it; I’m sitting in the middle of the courtroom and I certainly can’t. I have to wait for the prosecutor, or whoever is asking the questions, to read into the record where the witness has made the miniscule dot and the judge to okay it, so I know where in the world it is. But I guess the problem is, if the witness points too hard, a big red arrow shines out, and then if it’s not exactly where they intended it and they try it again, or if they accidentally touch the screen again, another big arrow shows and the screen becomes filled with all these crazy arrows and it’s confusing what is where. And one arrow or mark can’t be erased without the whole screen being cleared so, at points, the whole thing has had to be redone before being printed and entered into evidence because of too many confusing markings. Also, I guess it’s hard to make any kind of image other than a dot with the stylus because no one is being told to write anything other than a dot.

Well, Anzalone apparently wasn’t told the rules or how the stylus worked. When told to draw a line and point to the area where he found the bullet hole, he applied so much force he ended up with about four lines, three arrows and a bit dot. Very interesting stick figure. “Oops,” he said. The prosecutor asked him which line he intended to draw, but when that became too confusing, had the screen cleared so he could start again. Same thing happened. People snickered. He looked embarrassed. Immediately after the screen was cleared again, a big bright red arrow showed up on the bottom left corner of the the screen, completely outside of the picture.

“I don’t know, it must be my ring,” he laughed nervously.

“What did you have for lunch today,” Justice Cooperman said with uncharacteristic levity — with an uncharacteristic voice, actually — albeit still completely deadpanned. Everyone laughed including Anzalone. A lot of people, by the way (listen to March 7 “update”) are annoyed the judge isn’t showing more emotion or in some way indicating his thoughts, but this is how judges are supposed to act, like they’re completely objective and simply taking everything in. Unfortunately many don’t but that’s another story…

Anyway, finally Anzalone was able to draw only one line, but then when asked what the measurements were, marked them onto the screen, evidencing just how badly the stylus writes. His numbers looked like that which a two-year-old might make. The judge let them stand. Then, when asked to mark the area where he found the bullet, then the copper marking, he made big loopy red circles, which also resembled something drawn by the average pre-schooler. I really appreciated it though because I could finally see clearly what he was marking. But poor guy — he had no idea what we were all giggling at.

Anyway, Anzalone also examined the two police vehicles involved in the shooting: the Toyota Camry which carried Lieut. Napoli, and the ‘prisoner’ minivan which impacted with Bell’s Altima. From the Camry he recovered two shell casings (discharged when a bullet is fired), one from under the front passenger seat, and one from the rear passenger-side floor. From the prisoner van he recovered two shell casings at the base of the windshield wipers and one in the upper right area of the engine. He had no idea how that shell casing ended up all the way under the engine. Also, in the Camry, he didn’t see a police bubble light, which Napoli had testified he was bent down trying to find when the shots began.

Anzalone was also sent to Mary Immaculate and Jamaica Hospitals to photograph clothing recovered from Joseph Guzman and Sean Bell. The photos were shown on the monitors in court. Bell’s clothing was mostly dark-colored, so the only blood that was visible was on the waistband of his boxer shorts. Anzalone testified that the clothing — a golf shirt, t-shirt, thermal underwear, jeans and leather jacket — all bore ballistics damage and were severly cut by EMS personnel administering emergency care. Mrs. Bell (the mother) briefly left the courtroom at this point.

Guzman’s white t-shirt, light grey overshirt, and jeans did contain visible blood; there were a few large splotches on the right side of both shirts and a few smaller speckles on the left, and there was blood around the waistline and on the left leg of his jeans. His clothing was also severly cut by emergency medical workers. There were about five markers on the middle of the jacket’s right side but it was confusing as to exactly how many potential bullet holes those markers indicated, since some were surrounding a single hole. Somehow, though his vest was made of ordinary fabric, one bullet was caught in the jacket’s right-side collarband and one in the right-side bottom seamline.

Anzalone also took a couple of pictures of Detective Isnora’s right leg, on which there was a red, horizontal abrasion, on his shin area. Isnora had his pants leg rolled up to show the abrasion, but was also pointing to something on the pants, which Anzalone surmised was a marking corresponding with the abrasion. He didn’t examine or photograph the pants, though, so wasn’t sure.

The above was overheard in the ladies room, and was spoken by a woman on her cell phone describing Sean Bell’s car after the shooting. I also thought the car looked like some kind of mechanical intruder attacked by arrowheads, but will get to that in a moment.

It was a L O N G, S L O W day. Only witness — who didn’t even finish his direct testimony — was Detective David Rivera, of the Crime Scene Unit. He arrived on the scene at 6:30 a.m. — so a little over two hours after the shooting — and took approximately 1,987 photos. No, there were really only 80, but it felt like far more because of course Det. Rivera went through each in great detail having his fellow Assistant D.A. zoom in, pan out, etc., in order to show exactly where he found each and every item he saw…

Of course some of the pictures were very disturbing. Most of the ones of Mr. Bell’s car were taken from the passenger side, since that’s where the vast majority of bullets were fired into. Blood covered the front passenger seat. It’s a miracle Joseph Guzman survived (that’s where he was sitting). I really don’t know how he did. There was blood on the driver’s side as well. In the courtroom, the first two rows are reserved for the press, the second two rows for family and friends of Bell and the defendants, and the last several rows are for the general public. Sean’s mother and father sit in the third row and his fiance, Nicole, behind them. When the bloody pictures were shown on the screen, practically the entire first two rows turned around to look at the mother and Nicole. They kept it together though; Mrs. Bell, the mother, sat with her head in her hands, as she often does.

The passenger window of Bell’s Nissan Altima was blown out, glass was all over the front and back seat floors, and the passenger-side door bore a great deal of bullet holes. By the way, the photographs and other pictorial exhibits (diagrams, maps, etc.) are projected onto two large screens hanging on each side of the wall above the judge, for everyone in the courtroom to see. Each defendant, each prosecutor, the judge, and the witness on the witness stand, all have monitors at their desks so that they have an up-close view.

Anyway, one of the things Rivera does in reconstructing a crime scene is to place trajectory markers (which appeared from the picture to be arrows about a foot long) into the bullet holes in the direction from which the shots were fired, which he can determine by the shape of the hole. When he showed a picture he took of the car with all arrows in place, the onslaught of gunfire into it was really driven home. Gasps spread across the courtroom. There were a few arrows in the back of the car, I think one in the driver’s side (where Bell was sitting), and the passenger side looked like a porcupine.

There was also one exit bullet hole in the back driver’s side door. Rivera said it could either have been fired through the passenger side of the car and come through to the other side, or it could have come from being fired within the car. There was damage to the front bumper, inside door panel, trunk, and back bumper of the Altima. There was little damage to the police prisoner van.

There was also ballistic (bullet) damage to a nearby house, as well as to two cars parked in front of it. A bullet had gone through the house’s living room window, located next to a couch, ricocheted around a lamp and ended up in its shade. Regarding the parked cars: a bullet had pierced the rear window of one, passed through a headrest, and exited through its front window. Rivera also found a deformed (fired) bullet near the steering wheel and a bullet fragment on the car’s floor. The other parked car’s rear cargo window had been blown out and a deformed bullet found in its cargo area.

Rivera gave detailed measurements of everything from the lengths and widths of the streets, the distance of the cars from the sides and ends of the streets, and the exact locations of found items. Among those items were a holster and magazine (Detective Isnora’s) near the sidewalk on the passenger side of Bell’s car. Keys, a cell phone, and three baseball caps were recovered from inside the Bell car. Trent Bennefield’s removed clothing was recovered from a grassy area on the sidewalk. From his jacket pockets were an interim driver’s license and a gold mouthpiece. A pendant and chain were found near the clothes as well. Rivera also recovered blood swabs from blood on the ground.

Interestingly, a large plastic bag filled with smaller ziploc bags containing “a green leafy substance” and another smaller plastic bag containing the same were found near a vehicle parked on the side of the street. We’ll find out Monday, according to the D.A. how that relates to the case and what was in the bags.

I didn’t get the exact count, but a great many shell casings (which are discharged when a weapon is fired and a bullet ejected), bullet fragments, and deformed bullets were found on the scene, in or near Bell’s car. I’m sure we’ll get detailed info on which bullets and shell casings came from which gun next week.

The above quote is from Detective Cooper’s attorney, Paul Martin, during cross examination of a witness. (To see all of my posts on this trial, go here, and start at the bottom; for a graphic overview, go here). I call attention to the quote because I find the way I am seeing some of the press cover this trial disturbing. Reporters are not staying around to hear cross examination. They are leaving after direct and running out into the waiting area and calling their offices to report what was said on direct as the testimony from that witness. Often inconsistencies are brought out, problems with the witness’s recollection come to light, the fuller story emerges only on cross.

In this instance, the witness was Sergeant Donald Kipp, who had interviewed officers involved in the shooting at the scene. He’d testified on direct that Det. Cooper told him he didn’t know whether he fired his gun. On cross examination, counselor Martin asked him if he was sure that was what Cooper had told him on the scene, and began taking out some paperwork. Kipp looked down, and said, oh wait, “I’m wrong; Cooper told me he did fire his weapon.” Not an enormous deal, but it does kind of look like the officer’s being evasive if he said he didn’t know whether he fired. At lunch, though, I heard a journalist phoning in to her boss, reading from her notes. Regarding Cooper she said, “Cooper said he didn’t know whether he fired his gun.” And there was no later correction. I see these reporters flying out the doors all the time when direct is over, cell phones in one hand, notes in the other; that’s what she must’ve done. This is why some of the reports are only giving the public half of the picture. In sum, larger point here: what comes out on cross and re-direct and re-cross examination is all part of the trial evidence, press people!!!

Anyway, today’s testimony wasn’t anything tremendously eye-opening, so this post will be much shorter than the last. Officer James Bauman was first on the stand. He arrived at the scene around 4:15 a.m. on 11/25/06. He helped put up crime scene tape and assisted his partner in keeping the scene preserved from a rowdy crowd of about 20 trying to make their way down to where the cars had collided. He accompanied the ambulance that took Guzman to Mary Immaculate Hospital, riding up front. He never heard Guzman say anything. He didn’t know at the time that police were responsible for the shootings and didn’t tell Guzman such. At the hospital, he heard Trent Bennefield yelling while being treated, but couldn’t hear what he was saying.

Next Officer Robert Maloney, the first to arrive on the scene, testified. On his way toward the collision, he passed two officers, who he couldn’t describe, but remembered both wearing police shields. Pursuant to what one told him, he radioed, “2 perps shot” and asked for an ambulance. He escorted the ambulance carrying Sean Bell to Jamaica Hospital where emergency room staff, after removing Bell’s clothes, gave them to him, along with Bell’s wallet and other belongings, which he vouchered (packaged with identifying tags) for safekeeping, later giving them to the crime scene unit. He also vouchered some of Guzman’s clothing that had been removed at the scene.

Sergeant Fred Fisher was called to North Shore Hospital around 5:00 on the morning of the 25th to recover a weapon from an officer who’d been taken there for treatment. At the hospital, he interviewed Officer Carey (who’d been involved in the shooting but wasn’t charged). Carey told Fisher he believed he’d fired three shots. Fisher inspected Carey’s weapon, a Sig Sauer capable of holding 16 rounds, which now held 13 rounds. (According to police procedure, officers’ weapons are fully loaded at the beginning of the tour of duty.) Fisher thus concluded that Carey had indeed fired 3 rounds. Fisher also found Carey fit for duty. The weapon he recovered from Carey was shown to the judge and introduced into evidence.

Next Sergeant Donald Kipp testified that he interviewed, and recovered weapons from, the other officers at the scene. Detective Headley (not charged) told Kipp he didn’t know whether he fired his Smith & Wesson, capable of holding 16 rounds. The weapon now held 15 rounds, so, one shot had been fired from it.

Defendant Detective Oliver told Kipp he fired his Sig Sauer (contradicting what Wheeler had said yesterday) and gave him two empty magazines (each of which can hold 16 bullets). Kipp concluded that Oliver’s weapon had fired 31 rounds. He remembered Oliver wearing his police shield and complaining of ringing in his ears.

Kipp remembered Defendant Detective Isnora telling him he didn’t know whether he fired (also contradicting Wheeler yesterday). His weapon, a Glock 26 off-duty firearm capable of holding 11 rounds, was empty, containing no magazine. Kipp later found an empty magazine on the street, matched it with Isnora’s gun, and concluded that all 11 rounds had been fired. It would have been improper for Isnora to have retrieved the magazine himself from the street, Kipp said, as that would have tainted the crime scene. As far as he could tell, Isnora (allegedly hit by Bell’s car) was able to walk fine.

Regarding defendant Detective Cooper: as I said above, on direct examination, Kipp said Cooper had told him he didn’t know whether he fired his weapon, a Glock 19 capable of holding 16 rounds, 12 of which remained; four fired. On cross, he admitted he’d made a mistake on direct and that Cooper had told him he fired. All weapons went into evidence.

Two weeks earlier, Kipp said, there was a shooting at Kalua Cabaret.

Final witness for today was Detective Ellen Friedman who testified that around 5:30 p.m. on 11/25, she inspected Sean Bell’s car, looking for “traps,” or places in or on the car where items like guns, drugs and money could be hidden. She found no such traps, and no guns. She did see two spent rounds (bullets) — one on the front driver’s seat, the other between the driver’s bottom seat cushion and the center console.