Every Reasonable Doubt (25 page)

W
hen we returned to court the next morning, Julie was decked out for victory. Her beige tailored suit was complemented by a girly, light pink blouse with ruffles at the neck and wrists. Her hair was in a youthful ponytail now, accented with pearl barrettes that matched a larger pearl lapel pin. She was wearing a sweet-smelling perfume, probably musk oil. Whatever it was, she had used too much of it.

The morning started with Neddy and Julie squaring off over what we viewed as the prosecution’s last-minute sabotage attempt.

“I understand that we have a motion to address before bringing the jury in,” Judge Graciano said, staring down at us from her perch.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Neddy began. “The defense opposes the prosecution’s motion to amend its witness list. Ms. Killabrew failed to notify us of this witness in a timely manner. This unfair surprise will be extremely prejudicial to my client as we’ve had no time to prepare for the cross-examination of Mr. Bryson.”

The judge turned to Julie. “This is quite late, Ms. Killabrew,” she said. “Are you telling me you just discovered this gentleman’s existence?”

This was the first time I saw panic on Julie’s face. So she was human. “No, Your Honor, we knew of Mr. Bryson’s existence and the fact that he might have relevant information, but we did not know of his whereabouts. Frankly, Your Honor, I think he was trying to dodge our subpoena, and he managed to do so for quite a while. But his testimony is very important. It goes directly to the defendant’s motive.”

The judge paused to mull over the predicament.

Julie was probably lying but we had no way of proving it. This was a premeditated tactic to end her case with a bang. Testimony from a surprise witness at the end of her case was Julie’s
modus operandi
.

Judge Graciano usually didn’t need a lot of time to make a decision. She also liked to err in favor of the defendant. It looked as if she were leaning toward excluding Bryson’s testimony.

Julie must have realized this. “Your Honor,” she said sweetly, “I have a suggestion that might remedy this problem. “Even though the defense team had all last night to prepare for the cross of Mr. Bryson, I wouldn’t object to taking a recess to give them more time to gear up for his examination.”

I knew Neddy was saying a silent prayer. We needed the judge to exclude Bryson’s testimony. A recess wouldn’t do us any good. Tina had already told us everything we needed to know about Mr. Gigolo. We’d been up all night working on his cross.

The judge finally made her decision. “I’m going to allow Mr. Bryson to testify,” she said warily. She turned to Neddy. “Would the defense team like to take a recess to prepare for the cross?”

“Just a second, Your Honor,” Neddy said, hurrying over to huddle with David and me. “What do you think,” she whispered, “should we take the time?”

“The jury’s already getting antsy,” I said. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“I agree,” David said.

Tina looked as if she wanted a voice in the matter, but Neddy didn’t ask for her opinion.

Neddy turned back to Judge Graciano. “No, Your Honor, we won’t need a break. Let’s just proceed.”

After the bailiff herded the jury into its wooden box and allowed the spectators back in, Julie took the floor.

“The People call Garrett James Bryson,” she said commandingly.

When Garrett Bryson strutted into the courtroom, a loud, sustained murmur swept through the place like a tornado. Julie had leaked the identity of the prosecution’s surprise witness to the media right after delivering the motion to us, so everyone in the room was hyped to hear what he had to say. Bryson was an attractive man, tall and lanky, with smooth chocolate skin. His cool stride, expensive pinstripped suit, and monogrammed cuff links gave him a snobbish air. I was a good five feet away from the center aisle, but I could smell the strong lemony scent of his cologne when he passed us on the way to the witness box.

Julie’s direct examination of Bryson was both titillating and damaging. She quickly had Bryson recount his yearlong sexual liaison with Tina, which had ended abruptly. Bryson claimed he had simply tired of her. Julie then moved on to the testimony she needed to seal her case—Tina’s motive for murder.

“Mr. Bryson, did the defendant ever talk to you about her husband?”

“Yes, very often,” he answered, quite full of himself.

“Did she tell you she loved her husband?”

“Yes, very much.”

“If she loved her husband, why was she having an affair with you?”

Neddy was on her feet. “Objection, calls for speculation.”

Julie gingerly raised her hand before the judge could rule on the objection.

“I’ll rephrase the question, Your Honor,” she said. “Mr. Bryson, did the defendant ever tell you why she decided to have an affair with you?”

“Yes.” Bryson smiled. He crossed his legs like he was lounging on his living room sofa. “Well, there were two reasons. First and foremost, I’m a pretty charming guy,” he chuckled, but he was the only one in the room who seemed amused. “And second, she was with me because her husband was cheating on her and she wanted to get back at him.”

“That didn’t bother you?” Julie asked, in feigned surprise.

“No, not really,” he said. “I had my needs, she had hers. It was all about sex.”

I saw Juror No. 7, the African-American woman, fold her arms. She definitely wasn’t feeling Mr. Bryson.

“Did you ever witness the defendant express any hatred toward her husband?” Julie was now walking closer to the jury box, grandstanding.

“Yeah, she told me—”

“Objection,” Neddy said hurriedly. There was nothing inappropriate about the question. I assumed Neddy was just trying to wreck Julie’s rhythm.

The judge shot Neddy a chiding look.

“Your Honor, the witness was asked if he ever ‘witnessed’ my client express any hatred toward her husband,” Neddy said defensively. “Recounting what she told him is not ‘witnessing’ anything.”

“Overruled,” the judge said. “I think the witness can recount what he witnessed as well as what the defendant might’ve told him, counselor.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Julie said. She was certainly smiling a lot today. “Go ahead, Mr. Bryson, tell me about the hatred the defendant expressed toward her husband.”

Bryson went into a detailed discussion of how Tina would call him after a screaming match with Max and tell him how much she despised her husband. Other times, when she suspected that he was out fooling around, she would come running to Bryson and he would comfort her, mostly with sex.

“Mr. Bryson, why do you think the defendant stayed with her husband?”

“Because she—”

“Objection, irrelevant, calls for speculation,” Neddy said with confidence this time.

“Sustained,” the judge said.

“l’ll rephrase, counselor,” Julie said, eyeing Neddy. “Mr. Bryson, did the defendant ever tell you why she didn’t leave her husband?”

“Yeah,” Bryson began. He answered every question as if he were reading from a script. “She wasn’t about to give up the millions, the fabulous house, and the prestige she got from being Mrs. Max Montgomery. She grew up in North Philly with next to nothing. And now, for the first time in her life, she was somebody. But it was all a farce. Everybody in town knew Max had more women than Wilt Chamberlain.”

A couple of the jurors frowned in disgust, including Juror No. 7, who was quickly becoming my favorite. I only hoped they were feeling sorry for Tina.

“One last question, Mr. Bryson,” Julie said, walking back toward the prosecution table. “Did the defendant ever express any interest in harming her husband?”

Neddy stirred as if she wanted to object, but restrained herself since there was no valid objection she could make.

“Yeah, all the time.” Bryson paused for dramatic effect, knowing his next words would be played and replayed on every newscast in L.A. “She said she wanted him to die and she wanted to be the one to kill him.”

The jurors responded with a collective gasp. Neddy slid her note pad my way, scribbled
we’re screwed!
on it, then scratched out the words, before Tina could see them.

Julie walked over to the prosecution table and opened a file, acting as if she was searching for something. Silence hung heavy in the courtroom with all eyes focused on her. I knew exactly what she was doing. She didn’t have another question, but wanted Bryson’s final words to linger in the minds of the jurors.

“I have no more questions, Your Honor,” she said finally, and glanced over at Neddy. “Your witness.”

The judge turned to Neddy. “Counselor, you may inquire now.”

Neddy posed her first question from her seat. “Mr. Bryson, how would you describe your current relationship with Mrs. Montgomery?” There was a twinge of suspicion in her tone.

“I’d say we were friends,” he bragged. “We don’t really see each other anymore, but there’re no hard feelings between us.”

Neddy slowly rose from her seat and walked toward the witness box. “Really? You weren’t upset about her not agreeing to loan you fifty thousand dollars?”

The prosecution obviously hadn’t prepared him for that question. For a few seconds, he lost his cool demeanor. “No, I wasn’t,” he said, finally.

“You didn’t hang up the phone on her the fifth time she told you she wouldn’t loan you fifty thousand dollars?”

He knew that the longer he delayed answering the question, the more he would look like a liar. But his brain apparently wasn’t fast enough to come up with a credible lie. He pretended to pick a piece of lint from his pants leg. “I don’t remember.”

“How many women have you dated this year, Mr. Bryson?”

“Objection, irrelevant,” Julie said.

Neddy turned to the judge. “Your Honor, may we approach?”

I could not hear what was being said as Neddy and Julie spoke in whispers to the judge, but I knew that Neddy was probably explaining that she needed to establish that Bryson had a history of dating rich women and using them for their money. This would go directly to his credibility. In her closing argument, Neddy planned to ask the jury to disregard Bryson’s testimony as the false accusations of a spurned gigolo.

When Neddy and Julie left their huddle with the judge, the sour look on Julie’s face told me that Neddy had prevailed.

“Please answer the question, Mr. Bryson,” the judge ordered.

He gave Judge Graciano a surly look, then turned to Neddy. “I’m sorry, what was your question?”

“My question was, how many women have you dated this year?”

He again paused way too long and he knew it. “I’m not sure.”

“Would twenty be about right?” Neddy goaded.

“Perhaps. There’s a shortage of good brothers out there,” he said jokingly, turning to the jury for a laugh. None of them gave him one.

“And how many of them did you borrow money from?”

“None,” he said proudly.

Neddy walked over to the defense table and picked up a file and appeared to be reading from it. “Mr. Bryson, didn’t you borrow money from Mrs. Alma Dawson?”

His face registered panic. “Well, uh, yes.”

“Ten thousand dollars, correct?”

“Yeah,” he said, barely moving his lips.

“And Mrs. Lucille Jenerette. How much did you borrow from her?”

His upper lip began to twitch. “I don’t remember.”

“Does five thousand dollars sound about right?”

“I don’t know. I don’t exactly recall.” He was sitting straight up in the chair now.

“And what about Mrs.—” Neddy paused. It looked as if she were reviewing a very long list. She moved her finger up and down the page, silently mouthing names. But there were no other names. The two women she had already mentioned were the only ones Tina had found out about after her affair with Bryson ended.

Neddy looked up and said, “Before I go on, we need to backtrack for a moment, Mr. Bryson. When I asked you a few seconds ago how many women you borrowed money from, you said none. That was a lie, wasn’t it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” he snapped. “I just didn’t remember.”

“Well, let’s test your memory with this next question. How many of the women did you pay back?”

He shifted in his seat. “I don’t know. Some of them were gifts, not loans.”

“Would it be correct to say that you didn’t pay any of them back?”

That twitch had now moved from his upper lip to his left eye. “Maybe.”

“You make your living by romancing rich, lonely, married women, don’t you, Mr. Bryson?”

He chuckled and titled his head sideways. It was easy to see how he wooed women. “No, counselor, that’s not how I make my living. I make my living in real estate.”

“Really,” Neddy said. “How many real estate deals have you closed this year?”

He fidgeted with the button on his shirt, but Neddy did not wait for his answer. “Would zero be correct?”

His lips tightened. “I’m not exactly sure.”

“You’d still be seeing Mrs. Montgomery if she’d loaned you that fifty thousand dollars you wanted, wouldn’t you?”

“Probably not,” he spat back. “I don’t date murderers.”

Neddy lost it. “Objection, Your Honor!” she shouted, waving her hand in the air. “Move to strike. Mr. Bryson’s defamatory statement was highly inappropriate!”

“Mr. Bryson,” the judge said sternly. “I’m not having that in my courtroom. Nobody here’s been convicted of anything.” She turned toward the jury box. “The jury is directed to disregard Mr. Bryson’s last statement.”

Julie clasped her hands and smiled. The damage had been done.

T
he fact that it was Friday and we didn’t have to return to court the following morning was the best thing that could be said about today’s session. After Bryson’s testimony, we definitely needed a couple of days to regroup.

As soon as the bailiff announced “court’s in recess,” Detective Smith rushed Tina past the army of reporters who shoved microphones in her face on a daily basis. David, looking beat from the long hours, said he was off to meet some friends for a drink. We all agreed to reconvene Saturday afternoon for another strategy session. By the time the courtroom had cleared out, Neddy and I were the only ones left in the empty hallway.

We made our way to the underground parking structure behind the courthouse. Neddy was unusually silent. I wanted to console her, but decided that now was not the time. She loaded a box of documents into the trunk of her car, which was parked just a few feet from mine, and motioned me over.

“We need to talk,” she whispered, “but not here.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you tonight. Let’s meet at Harold and Belle’s at eight.”

I went home and was relieved to find that Jefferson wasn’t there. I couldn’t face another guilt trip over the disappearing act I’d been pulling since the start of the trial. I took a hot bath and left for the restaurant.

When I arrived, Neddy was nursing a drink at the bar.

“You look refreshed,” I said.

“Looks can be deceiving,” she replied.

“You’re not still bummed out about today, are you?”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“No, you shouldn’t.” I climbed onto the stool next to her. “It’s not your fault that Tina lied to us.”

“I know,” she said, exhaling. “But it’s not really what happened in court today that’s got me down. I need to share something with you. But let’s wait until we get seated.”

It seemed to take forever before the hostess led us to a table. Neddy turned down the first table offered to us because it wasn’t secluded enough. I could barely contain myself, I was so anxious to hear what she had to tell me. Fifteen minutes later a small table for two near an emergency door at the back of the restaurant became available.

“Okay, what’s going on?” I asked, after we had received our menus. “You’ve really got me worried.”

“You won’t believe it,” she said, pulling a folder from her purse and handing it to me. “Take a look at this.”

I opened the folder and pulled out a three-page document. “What’s this?”

“It’s a report I asked Detective Smith to prepare after Kinga told us about Tina’s shouting match with Max. I figured since Tina had failed to mention that, she’d also probably neglected to tell us a few other things. And I was right.”

The first page summarized Tina’s relationship with Bryson. “Were there any other men besides Bryson?”

“Yep. Two of them. Just keep reading,” she said.

“Detective Smith is incredible,” I said, as I skimmed the report. “How’d he pull this together so fast?”

“I have no idea. But he’s definitely good at what he does.”

After finishing the first page, I didn’t spot anything significant about Bryson that we didn’t already know. I skipped ahead to page two. Ken Harris was a lover from Tina’s past who had resurfaced after her marriage. Their relationship lasted only a few months.”

“What’s that saying?” I asked, as I continued to read. “What happens in the dark will eventually come to the light? Tina should’ve just left Max. As much money as he made, she’d have been set for life. There was no reason for her to stay with him and put up with his crap.”

“Easy for us to say. We weren’t wearing her shoes,” Neddy said. “But I think Bryson was right. It was all about the prestige of being Mrs. Max Montgomery. That’s why she got so angry when he couldn’t make that fundraising dinner with her. The only thing she wanted was to have him on her arm that night and he refused.”

“This is some interesting stuff,” I said, “but I don’t see how it makes things any worse than they already are. With a husband like Max, I think she had a right to get her needs met any way she pleased.”

“You haven’t gotten to the third man she was seeing,” Neddy said with a deadpan look on her face.

I turned to the last page, then spotted a name that caused a chill to run through my body. “Please tell me the name listed here is not who I think it is?”

Neddy stared at me, then reached for her water glass.

“Tina was seeing Lawton?
Your
Lawton?” I said.

“You got it.”

I quickly read the four-paragraph summary and looked up at Neddy.

The expression on her face confirmed that we were on the same page. “Do you think Tina may’ve had something to do with Lawton’s murder?” I asked, not sure I wanted to hear her answer.

“I don’t know,” Neddy said. “Anything’s possible.”

We both sat there staring at each other until the waiter showed up and took our orders.

“Wait a minute,” I said, after the waiter had walked away. “I thought you said the police think Lawton was killed over a gambling debt?”

“That’s only a theory.”

“But Tina was already a suspect in her husband’s murder when Lawton was killed. There’s no way she’d be bold enough to run out and kill somebody when she was already under the microscope for one murder.”

Neddy’s lips turned into a menacing smile. “It would be the perfect cover, wouldn’t it? How many proper, upstanding citizens do you know who go out and kill while they’re already a possible suspect in one murder? Nobody would’ve ever suspected her.”

“Who else knows about this?”

Neddy breathed deeply. “Just Detective Smith.”

“Do you think Julie has looked into Tina’s background?” I asked.

“I don’t think so. The investigators at the D.A.’s office talk a lot, at least the lousy ones do. And Detective Smith hasn’t heard a thing from any of his contacts. Anyway, it would go against the prosecution’s theory. They’re trying to prove Tina killed Max Montgomery because he was a womanizer. Julie doesn’t want any evidence that Tina was out there getting her freak on. The only reason she called Bryson to testify was to prove that Tina talked about killing Max for cheating on her. Besides, Bryson was the prosecution’s last witness. Julie’s closed her case-in-chief, remember?”

“I can’t believe this,” I said. “Assuming she is responsible for Lawton’s death, what do you think was the motive?”

“Unlike Max, Lawton always lied to his women. If she were seeing him, I guarantee you he didn’t tell her he was married. With everything she was going through with Max, finding out that her new lover was cheating on her, too, had to be a major blow.”

“Maybe she found out and just snapped.”

Neddy toyed with her cloth napkin. “Lawton was killed the day
after
I told you and Tina about my nasty fight with him at his lawyer’s office. If she did kill him, that’s not snapping, that’s premeditated murder.”

I didn’t know what to say. “Are you going to confront Tina with this information?” I asked.

Neddy unfolded her napkin, then refolded it again. “I don’t know,” she said.

I slid the report back into the folder. “First the stuff about Kinga, now this. Do we have a legal obligation to report this to the police?”

“Nope,” she said shaking her head. “In fact, I contacted the anonymous ethics hotline at the State Bar just to make sure. We’d only have an obligation to go to the police if we had evidence that Tina was about to commit a crime. The fact that in the course of our defense we discovered information that leads us to believe she may’ve committed a different crime is protected by the attorney-client privilege.”

I propped my elbow on the table and massaged my temples with my thumb and forefinger. “Sometimes what we do sucks,” I said.

“No lie there,” Neddy replied.

Our waiter set a big bowl of gumbo in front of Neddy and a plate of crab scampi on my side of the table. Neddy began enjoying her food. I was too sick to my stomach to eat.

“How do you feel?” I asked. “Are you still okay defending Tina?”

Neddy looked down at the table for a minute. “Yeah, of course,” she said, dishing her spoon into the gumbo. She paused again, then looked me dead in the eye. “If Tina did kill Lawton, she basically did me a favor.”