The Murder of Sara Barton (Atlanta Murder Squad Book 1) Lance McMillian (ereader with android .txt) 📖

pictures overall pass through the hands of each juror. I assess each reaction as they contemplate Sara Barton’s lifeless body. The slowness of the process allows the images to marinate and sink in. The main goal, of course, is to inflame.

But more than cynicism lies behind my efforts. Murder is serious business. What’s happening in this courtroom is not some mock trial with fake facts and imaginary stakes. If the jurors have not felt the awesomeness of their responsibility up to this point, they will feel it now. Unlike the antiseptic autopsy photos, the pool of red blood around Sara’s body pops visually—the stark color repulsing with guttural impact. These photographs portray the reality that Sara Barton was a living, breathing woman until someone shot her dead. Once the photos make their rounds, I continue with the examination.

“Who was Sam Wilkins?”

“Mrs. Barton’s divorce lawyer. He discovered her body and called 911.”

I then show Scott the divorce complaint Sam provided to the police the night of the murder. I move to introduce it into evidence. Millwood stands up, and we both approach the bench for a sidebar with the judge.

“The defense objects to the admission of the complaint on the grounds of hearsay. The complaint is an out-of-court statement that makes factual allegations that cannot be substantiated. It is squarely inadmissible.”

“Response?”

“The complaint is not offered into evidence to prove the truth or falsity of the allegations therein. Rather, the fact that the victim stood ready to make these allegations public—allegations that are very damaging to the defendant’s reputation—supplies a motive for the defendant to murder his wife, regardless of whether the statements in the complaint are true or not. The existence of the allegations themselves, not their truth, is at the heart of this case.”

That’s only half-true. The mere existence of the allegations matters, but Millwood knows as well as I do that the jurors will be hard-pressed not to view the allegations as credible under the circumstances. The close timing of the murder and the planned filing of the complaint combine to create an inference that the two things go together. The complaint represents Sara Barton’s last words to the world, and those words have great weight. They are Sara telling the jury who killed her from beyond the grave.

Woodcomb mulls it over for a few seconds and says, “I’ll allow it, but I’m going to give a limiting instruction.” Millwood and I return to our places. The judge addresses the jurors:

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you are going to hear allegations contained in a draft of a divorce complaint that the State contends Sara Barton intended to file. The allegations assert certain facts, but they are just allegations. You are not to consider a fact true simply because an allegation in the complaint says so. You may draw other inferences from the existence of the allegations, but you cannot assume the truth of the allegations based solely on the allegations themselves.”

The judge can say it, but the jurors don’t have to follow it. I resume the questioning and ask Scott, “Were these divorce papers ever filed?”

“No. The victim was murdered before they could be.”

“Objection. The witness lacks knowledge as to whether the complaint could’ve been filed prior to the murder.”

“Sustained. The jury will disregard that last answer.”

“Is the divorce complaint dated, Detective Moore?”

“Yes. It is dated the day after the murder.”

“What does that suggest to you?”

“That Sara Barton intended the complaint to be filed on that date.”

Millwood holds his powder this time. Scott’s answer is still speculation, but at least it’s informed speculation. Besides, everyone knows what the date on the complaint means. Someone murdered Sara Barton the day before she intended to seek a divorce from the defendant.

“Detective Moore, will you please read paragraph 21 of the complaint?”

“‘In a jealous rage, Defendant Bernard Barton beat his wife, Plaintiff Sara Barton, and left large bruises on her back. Plaintiff Sara Barton escaped to the couple’s bedroom and locked the door.’”

To Sam’s credit, he wrote the complaint for maximum impact—“rage,” “beat,” “escaped.” The inflammatory language read by Scott is just a taste of the overall flavor. The reading of the paragraph provides the perfect transition to get the 911 call in front of the jury.

“Did your investigation uncover the existence of such an incident?”

“Yes. The victim made a 911 call.”

I then play the recording for the jury:

“Fulton County 911. May I have your name and the nature of emergency, please?”

“Sara Barton. My husband is trying to kill me!”

[Loud banging on a door.]

“Where is your husband now?”

“I’m locked in my bedroom! He’s trying to get in!”

[More banging on the door. Muffled voices, yelling. Crying.]

“He has already hit me! Please hurry!”

Sara gives her address, and the call from her end abruptly stops. The 911 dispatcher asks, “Hello? Hello? Are you still there?” I wait along with the jurors for an answer that never comes, all of us caught up in the intensity of the moment. Receiving no response, the 911 dispatcher hangs up, a resounding “click” that resonates like a gunshot in the stillness of the courtroom. The finality of it all feels like a funeral. I feel happy inside.

One female juror shoots a disgusted side glance at a sullen-looking Barton. He shrivels in his chair, looking suddenly small, obviously guilty. I turn my attention back to Scott.

“What role did this recording play in your investigation?”

“It certainly got my attention. A husband beats his wife, and the wife turns up murdered shortly thereafter—the husband is going to be a suspect. But I kept an open mind and went about the process of working the case, making sure to give all possibilities a hard look.”

We then take a deep dive into Barton’s financial history. As of the date of Sara’s murder, Bernard Barton owed three different casinos a total of nearly $800,000. Testimony about the $5 million insurance policy on Sara’s life follows thereafter. I don’t need a billboard to advertise the obvious inference. That kind of money covers a lot of