"Yes, sir."
"Are officers trained in constitutional limitations on stops and searches?"
"Yes, sir. Annual training."
"Thank you."
Caldwell returned to his seat. He seemed satisfied: the answers were clean and rehearsed. That was the problem.
Grace Holliday stood. She straightened her jacket, picked up a single sheet of paper, and walked to the podium with the unhurried confidence of someone holding a winning hand.
"Sergeant Wells, you said your department follows standard operating procedures for traffic stops, is that correct?"
"That's correct."
"And those procedures require documented probable cause before conducting a vehicle search?"
"Yes."
"And they require a stated reason for initiating the stop?"
"Yes."
"I'd like to direct your attention to the incident of March 14th involving James Patterson." She placed a document on the overhead projector. "This is the department's own incident report. Can you read the stated reason for the stop?"
Wells looked at the screen, swallowed. "'Driving erratically.'"
"Mr. Patterson's dashcam footage, which we'll play now, shows him driving 38 miles per hour in a 35 zone, in a straight line, for six uninterrupted minutes before the stop." She pressed play. The courtroom watched twelve seconds of the most unremarkable driving ever filmed. "Does that look erratic to you, Sergeant?"
"I wasn't the officer on that stop."
"No, but you were the supervising sergeant who signed off on the report. Your signature is at the bottom." She pointed. "Right there."
Wells said nothing.
"Let me ask you a broader question, Sergeant: in the last twelve months, how many traffic stops has your department conducted on this stretch of I-16 between the hours of 10:00 p.m. and 2:00 a.m.?"