“Livia Cutty.”
“Thanks for meeting with me.”
“Of course. The timing worked out perfectly. I’m in the city until tomorrow, trying to get things organized for next month.”
Sidney knew that Dr. Cutty had recently accepted a position at the famed New York Medical Examiner’s Office, which would start later this summer.
“Raleigh to New York will be quite a change for you.”
“It will. But I’m really enjoying the city. This is my fourth time visiting.”
“Find an apartment?”
“I’m signing the lease later this morning. One more meeting with my soon-to-be boss tomorrow, and then I head back to Raleigh to finish my last three weeks of fellowship.”
“And you start at your new position here . . . when?”
“Officially September first. But I’ll have privileges, so I will be slowly getting my feet wet during the summer. Full-time in September.”
“Allow me to welcome you officially to New York,” Sidney said. “I’ll try not to take too much of your time.”
“I’ve got an hour.” Livia gestured to the table and they both sat down. A waitress appeared and they ordered breakfast and coffee.
“So here’s my pitch,” Sidney said. “I’m making a documentary about Grace Sebold. Remember her story?”
“I do. She was the medical-school student who killed her boyfriend in Jamaica?”
“St. Lucia, but yes. That’s the one.”
“I was a junior in college when that happened. My entiresorority watched it unfold. The indictment, the trial, the conviction. We had viewing parties. It was like the O.J. Simpson trial in the ’90s, but instead of a famous athlete, it was a student just like us. It was, sadly, fascinating.”
“It certainly captured the headlines back then. Grace has maintained her innocence for the past decade, and has also retained a cult following, even if she has fallen out of the mainstream. My documentary is a reexamination of the evidence that convicted her. I need an expert in forensics to help me root through the details.”
“With the idea that she’s innocent?”
“With the idea that there are many unanswered questions. Forensic evidence played a major role in Grace’s conviction. The prosecution argued that a boat oar, actually a paddleboard oar, was used to strike Julian Crist in the head, causing a skull fracture that rendered him unconscious and led to his drowning. Grace insists the oar in question weighed five pounds, perhaps more. And it was seventy-four inches in length, which is longer than she is tall. This was back a decade ago, before the resort upgraded their equipment to graphite and composite plastic. Grace claims it would have been impossible for her to lug that long, weighty oar up the Piton, where Julian was killed, retain the strength and coordination to swing it with enough force to cause Julian’s head injury, then transport it back down the rugged terrain and return it to the sports shed, where it was later discovered by detectives. At trial, there was some back-and-forth about whether the blade of the oar was a forensic match to Julian’s skull fracture, but the defense’s expert—a coroner with little homicide experience—was shredded on cross-examination.”
Livia shrugged. “Sounds interesting. Where do I come in?”
“Would you be willing to review the autopsy findings and discuss your opinions? On camera, of course, as I’ll need footage for the documentary. It’s airing during the prime-time lineup and currently followsEvents,Luke Barrington’s news program, so you can expect decent exposure. If that’s something that interests you.”
Livia nodded. “I’m certainly curious. Especially if you’re suggesting the forensics don’t match the crime.”
“Well, I’m not sure. That’s why I need your help. I can pay you for your time. One hundred fifty an hour. I’m sure you’re worth much more than that, but that’s what I’m budgeted for. Log the hours, and you’ll be paid as an independent contractor.” Sidney pulled a thick file from her bag and pushed it across the table. “I’m gathering more each day, but this is what I have so far. Much of this is public record. Some, what’s on the thumb drive, came from Grace’s defense attorney here in the U.S., who kept not only everything from the trial, but also new information that has come along over the years. Crime scene photos, interviews, trial transcript, and everything from Julian Crist’s autopsy, which is what I’m mostly interested in getting your opinion on. And I wish I could tell you to take all the time you need, but, unfortunately, I’m under a tight deadline. How soon could you look at this?”
Dr. Cutty flipped through the file. “I’ll take a look on my flight. My fellowship in Raleigh is just about finished, so I’ll have time to dig in when I get home. Can I call you next week?”
Sidney nodded. “That would be perfect.”
“When is the documentary set to air?” Dr. Cutty asked.
Sidney smiled. Apparently, Dr. Cutty was not among the slightly more than (and disappointing) 1 million viewers who tuned in for episode one.
CHAPTER 17
Monday, June 5, 2017
THE SEBOLDS LIVED IN A TWO-STORY COLONIAL IN FAYETTEVILLE, NEWYork, just outside of Syracuse. Sidney pulled her car into the driveway as Derrick, her cameraman, grabbed his backpack from the rear seat. Sidney popped the trunk and surveyed the house while Derrick removed his lighting equipment. She noticed a ramp that ran up the front stairs and another that paralleled the steps leading to the back of the house. An obvious addition had been added to the home’s north side, where the aged brick gave way to newer cedar in a single-story supplement.
