Andrew Wamsley's defense rested about an hour ago at his murder trial in Fort Worth. (For those too busy to click the link, Wamsley's accused of shooting and stabbing his parents shortly before Christmas in 2003, so he could collect their $1.65 million estate. Chelsea Richardon has been convicted of capital murder for her role in the crime and sentenced to death; her best friend, Susana Toledano, confessed and testified against Chelsea and Andrew, in exchange for a life sentence.) As far as I can tell, Wamsley's defense team called a grand total of six witnesses. They'll be relying heavily on the testimony of Celia Richardson, Chelsea's mother, who provided a watery alibi for Wamsley on December 11, 2003.
Celia was working two jobs at the time: for the federal government in the General Services Administration and as a checker at the local Brookshire's grocery store. She was also taking a Wednesday-night accounting class, hoping to get a promotion at the GSA.
Celia testified yesterday that after she finished her accounting final on December 10, 2003, she got home around 8 p.m. and went to bed at 12:30 a.m. At the time, Andrew was staying at the Richardsons' home, to be with his girlfriend Chelsea. The Wamsleys were murdered around 3:23 a.m. Celia claims she never awoke to hear Wamsley's car leave or return that night, and she never heard their creaky front door open or close. When she awoke around 6:45 a.m. to get ready for work, she says Chelsea was asleep in the living room. She "thought [she] saw another body" that could have been Andrew, but she's not sure now. The defense will have to hope beyond hope that the jury believes Celia is in fact a light sleeper and would have heard Andrew leave the house to kill his folks.
Closing arguments are scheduled for 1 p.m. today, then the jury's off to deliberate. —Andrea Grimes
Get the This Week's Top Stories Newsletter
Every week we collect the latest news, music and arts stories — along with film and food reviews and the best things to do this week — so that you'll never miss Observer's biggest stories.