The Advocate's Devil (28 page)

“What does Campbell want to do?” Rendi asked.

“He
says
he wants to testify. I’m not sure that’s what he really wants. He wants me to
think
that’s what he wants.”

“Why do you say that?” Rendi asked.

“Because he hasn’t pressed me in the last day or two. He didn’t even want to come to dinner tonight, even though he knows
we’re talking about this. He’s out with some friends.”

“Will he go along with your recommendation?” Justin asked.

“I don’t know. All I can do is give him my best judgment.”

“What is your best judgment?”

“My best judgment at this point is that we probably have it won without Campbell taking the stand, yet it’s far from certain
that we’ve won.”

“Can Campbell help us or hurt us?” Justin asked.

“Yes.”

“What do you mean, ‘yes’?” Justin asked.

“He can help us
and
he can hurt us, and I just don’t know how he’ll do.”

“You’ve been over his story ten times with him.”

“Right. And every time it comes out a bit different. Not the words, but the music. His affect changes all the time, and jurors
look at that kind of thing.”

“What about the ethical problem?” Justin asked.

“The ethical problem has become more of a tactical problem at this point. The ploy we practiced of bringing him right to the
edge and then not asking him the crucial questions would backfire in light of how explicit and direct Jennifer Dowling was.”

“So what’s it going to be, Abe?”

“I’m going to leave it to Campbell. I’ll lay out the options, give him my best assessment of the costs and benefits, and let
him decide.”

“That’s not like you. This is your call. You’re the guy with all the experience.”

“Yeah, except this is not an experience call. Campbell is unique, and this case is unlike any I’ve ever had before. This guy
has a rapport with the jury like I’ve never seen. It’s his life. It’s his call. Try to reach him, Justin. He’s eating at Chef
Chang in Brookline. I told him he might have to cut his dinner short. Tell him to meet us at the office in half an hour.”

The trio rushed through dessert and hurried over to the office. Campbell arrived a few minutes later with Emma in tow. “My
friends got tied up in New York. I called your house. Your daughter answered and was kind enough to join me for dinner. She
told me all your secrets.”

“I don’t tell her any secrets. Not mine and not yours.”

“Your daughter knows a lot about basketball—for a girl.” Campbell smiled teasingly.

“I know a lot even for a boy,” Emma shot back.

“All right, Emma, you got your treat—dinner with an NBA star. Now it’s time for you to skedaddle. We’ve got decisions to make
and you can’t participate in them.” If Abe had any thoughts about Emma having dinner with Campbell, he kept them to himself.

“I hope Joe takes the stand. He’ll be a great witness,” Emma asserted.

“Thank you, F. Lee Ringel, and good night.”

“Good night, Daddy. Good night, Joe. Justin, Rendi, see you around.”

As Emma was leaving, Abe gestured to Joe to sit next to Justin. “Okay, let’s get down to business. It’s decision time. Joe,
it’s your call. To testify or not to testify—that is the question.”

“To testify,” Campbell said matter-of-factly. “Now wasn’t that easy?”

“Wait a minute. It’s not that easy. Even putting aside the ethics issue, Puccio will grill you like you’ve never been grilled
before.”

“No, she won’t.”

“Why not? Have you seduced her, too?”

“She wishes. No, I haven’t seduced her. And you’re right, she would grill me if she could.”

“Well, she can—if you testify.”

“No, she can’t,” Campbell said with a smile, “because I’ve testified already, and I don’t have to take the witness stand.”

“How many Chinese beers did you have for dinner?” Rendi inquired. “Don’t you understand that if you testify, you get cross-examined.
And you haven’t testified yet.”

“Yes, I have,” Campbell replied smugly. “Just before the trial began, Abe told me this story about a guy on trial for murdering
his wife—”

“You mean the corpse-walking-through-the-door story,” Justin broke in. “We’ve all heard that one.”

“Well, I hadn’t. And it gave me a great idea. I’m surprised none of you noticed it.”

“I noticed it,” Abe said.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Justin asked.

“I’ve been testifying throughout the prosecution’s case. I’ve made eye contact with several jurors, especially the scuba-diving
one you were all worried about. She knows what my position is. She knows what I admit and what I deny. And she believes me—without
my ever having said a word.”

“He may be right,” Abe said. “I did see what he was doing. He may already have given his best testimony, without even having
sworn an oath to tell the truth. At least as far as Ms. Scuba Diver is concerned.”

“My God,” Justin said. “You learn something new every day in this game. I’ve never heard of this one before, testifying without
saying a word.”

“Actually, I’ve seen it before,” Abe said. “An entirely different context, but the same principle.”

“What happened there?” Justin asked.

“It was a Mafia case. A former associate of a major crime figure had made a deal with the feds and was testifying against
his former boss. The boss never said a word. He looked the witness right in the eye as if to say ‘You rat on me and your entire
family is dead.’”

“What did the witness do?”

“He freaked. Changed his entire testimony. The mobster got off.”

“That’s what I call confronting the witness,” Justin said.

“That wasn’t the same principle at all,” Rendi said. “The mobster used fear. Joe used lust.”

“Getting back to Campbell,” Abe said, “Henry Pullman tells us we’re in trouble. Most of his shadow jurors, especially the
young feminist and the black woman, believe Jennifer Dowling. Another shadow was very impressed with the doctor, and several
of the other women keep talking about the vaginal abrasion and the size of Campbell’s penis. Right now there’s six for conviction,
only three for acquittal, and three up in the air. The majority seems likely to swing the others to their side. Henry says
we’ve got to put Campbell on.”

“That’s because I haven’t made eye contact with the shadow jurors,” Campbell said. “The shadows haven’t heard—or seen—me testify,
only the real jurors have.”

“What about the abrasion?” Justin asked. “Several of the shadows seem impressed with that and were clearly influenced by Puccio’s
question about your being smaller than average.”

“I’ve taken care of that.” Campbell smiled.

With that comment, every eye in the room turned to Campbell’s gray cashmere trousers, which were unusually tight around the
inner thigh. The outline of his penis was plainly discernible.

“I dress left, and my tailor knows how to bring out the best in me.”

The boast seemed justified as six eyes looked down on what appeared to be a cylindrical bulge in his pants.

“You’re wearing falsies!” Rendi exclaimed with a mixture of admiration for Campbell’s ingenuity and disgust for his duplicity.

“If that’s not his,” Justin said, “we may be participating in a fraud on the court. Don’t we have an obligation, Abe, to check
the evidence?”

“Don’t be silly,” Abe replied. “We don’t know whether it’s true or false, and in the absence of evidence to the contrary,
we have an obligation to believe our client.” He turned to Campbell. “That’s the last time you’re wearing those pants. You’ve
made your point, so to speak. Now, please, back to baggy pants. I don’t want Puccio or the judge seeing what you’re doing.”

“No chance,” Campbell said. “That’s the last place either of them would ever look. Ms. Scuba Diver has had her eyes on me
since the time Puccio asked the question, and when I wore these pants the next day, she gave me a knowing glance as if to
say you’ve proved your case to me.”

As much as Abe hated to admit it, he knew he could trust Campbell’s reading of people—the man had made his reputation on his
ability to read the opposition.

“Well, I guess the decision is easy,” Abe said. “Campbell has certainly convinced me that in light of everything we now know,
the defense should probably rest.”

“And it certainly avoids the ethical issues we were worried about,” Justin added.

“Well, at least it
changes
the ethical issue,” Abe said. “I’m still going to have to tiptoe through a lot of ethical tulips in my closing argument.”

“So it’s decided,” Rendi declared with a sigh of relief. “No defense. We rest.”

“It’s gonna shock the hell out of Puccio,” Justin said with satisfaction. “She’s been preparing for weeks to cross-examine
Campbell and to put on a strong rebuttal case. I heard through the grapevine that she even got the son of one of her friends—a
college basketball player—to act the part of Campbell in a mock cross-examination. What do you think she’ll do?”

“She has no choice. The prosecution has rested. The defense will rest first thing in the morning tomorrow. She had better
be ready with her closing argument. I’m sure as hell not ready for mine yet, but at least she goes first.”

“The defense rests, Your Honor. We’re ready for closing arguments,” Abe announced.

Cheryl Puccio showed her surprise. “Wait a minute, please, Your Honor. Can we meet in chambers?”

“All right, everyone in my chambers.”

As they were walking toward Judge Gambi’s chambers, Puccio whispered to Abe, “You son of a bitch. You really sandbagged me.
I was sure you were going to put Campbell on. And I was ready for him.”

“That’s why I didn’t put him on.” Abe smiled. “My job is to sandbag you.”

“This isn’t a game, Mr. Ringel,” Puccio said angrily. “You’re representing a dangerous rapist, and you know it. That’s why
you’re not putting him on. You would be suborning perjury if you put him on.”

“I’m glad you know so much about my tactics—and my ethics.”

When they entered Judge Gambi’s chambers, Puccio immediately asked for a one-day delay in the trial so she could work on her
closing argument.

“No way, Your Honor,” Abe objected. “My client is entitled to a speedy trial and a speedy verdict. Lawyers are supposed to
be prepared for anything.”

“Mr. Ringel deliberately lulled me into thinking that he was planning to put on a defense.”

“I
was
planning to put on a defense. I prepared Mr. Campbell to testify. Ms. Puccio’s case turned out to be so weak that I don’t
have to put him on.”

“That’s entirely your call,” Judge Gambi said. “And the prosecution should have been ready for it. I certainly wasn’t surprised.
I thought it could go either way. I’m ready with my instructions. As a courtesy, I will give the prosection the morning to
do its homework, but the state’s closing argument begins at one
P.M
. sharp and ends at two forty-five
P.M
. Defense goes from three
P.M
. to five
P.M
. Prosecution gets fifteen minutes for rebuttal. This case is not all that complex. My instructions begin at nine
A.M
. tomorrow. I’ll be done by ten, and the jury will have the case by ten-fifteen. With any luck, we could have a verdict by
tomorrow afternoon.”

That afternoon Puccio’s closing argument, like the woman herself, was direct, no-nonsense, without dramatics. After speaking
for twenty minutes, she came to the heart of her case:

“There is one unusual aspect of this case that I will now touch on. Joe Campbell did not rape in order to get sex. He could
have gotten sex from Jennifer Dowling without raping her. She testified that she was willing, indeed eager, to have a sexual
relationship with him. Then Joe Campbell deliberately said something to her that led her to change her mind. Why he did that
we can only surmise, but that is not part of our burden of proof. We do not have to prove to you
why
Joe Campbell wanted to rape Jennifer Dowling—only that he
did
rape her. Somehow he found out something that he knew would upset Jennifer, and he whispered it to her. We don’t know how
he found out, and that’s not something we have to prove, either. All we have to prove is that Jennifer said no for whatever
reason and that Joe Campbell forced her to have sex with him for whatever reason.

“And you heard her testify that she did say no. Why would she lie about something like that, especially after she acknowledged
that she originally did want to have sex with him?

“Moreover, Ms. Dowling’s testimony is corroborated by physical evidence. Mr. Campbell caused an abrasion that you heard Dr.
Stiller say is consistent with forced sex. Oh, sure, it’s also consistent with consensual sex with a man with a very large
penis. We have heard absolutely no evidence, however, about the size of Joe Campbell’s penis, and there is no reason for you
to assume that it is anything but average.”

Several jurors murmured at the mention of Campbell’s penis size, but a rap from Judge Gambi’s gavel quickly silenced them.

Cheryl Puccio ended her argument with a logical review of all the prosecution’s evidence and a simple request for a verdict
of guilty so that Jennifer Dowling might get on with her life.

Now it was Abe’s turn. His only turn. Puccio would get to rebut Abe’s argument. She would get the last word. He had to make
his argument so convincing that even Puccio’s rebuttal would not change the juror’s minds. He could feel the adrenaline.

“Men and women of the jury, you have heard a truly brilliant presentation by one of the best prosecutors in the county. She
has to be good, because the facts of her case don’t make sense. Think about how many times she admitted to you that she couldn’t
explain what she claimed were facts. Review them in your own minds. She couldn’t explain
why
Joe Campbell supposedly raped Jennifer Dowling if he knew that Jennifer was ready, willing, and eager to have sex with him
voluntarily. She couldn’t explain
how
Joe Campbell supposedly learned about Jennifer’s very private secret, or
why
he would whisper it to her just before they were beginning to have voluntary sex. She had no idea
whether
this six-foot-three-inch man has a penis that would be average for a man who is five feet nine inches or for a man who is
six inches taller than the average man.