The Verdict, page 30
“What about dealing?” I asked.
“I never did.”
“It sounds like you knew some of her clientele, right?”
She shrugged. “Yes, I knew some of them, I guess.”
“Did you keep the business running?”
“No! I wasn’t dealing.”
“Have the police asked you to identify her buyers?”
“No, they haven’t.”
“Did Athena mention if any of them were dealing too? You know, was she acting like a middleman?”
“No, she never said anything about that.”
This was clearly another lie.
Judge Ziegler looked surprised that the police hadn’t asked her. He glanced at Gary Gibson. I would’ve glanced too, but Gary Gibson wasn’t my target.
She was.
Hopefully, Gary felt like he’d made a mistake by not trying to track down the people Athena Hutton had been dealing to.
“You know a lot of them, right?”
“I don’t know names, but I might know faces.” It must have finally occurred to her how this was looking because she quickly added, “I’m not supergood with faces; like, I probably wouldn’t remember them.”
Lindsay was looking very uncomfortable.
It seemed a good time to jump into the meat of the matter.
“How long have you known Taylor Goodwin?”
I held my breath without looking over at the judge or Gary. This was not the first time I’d tried to bring Taylor Goodwin into the trial, but this was my most direct approach. I’d been stopped in my tracks every other time and figured Gary might find something to object to here as well.
Gary could object, saying it wasn’t relevant. He probably would if he knew who Goodwin was.
Lindsay looked startled, but only for a moment, and then she shook her head.
“I’m sorry. Who?”
I let out a long breath, glad I’d gotten the question onto the record.
“Taylor Goodwin.” I didn’t blink. “You know him, right?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Lindsay said, still very uncomfortable.
I was on the right track.
Winston and I had looked for a connection between Lindsay Bruton and Taylor Goodwin, but we’d never found anything. I only had a copy of the report the police had filed, documenting what she’d told them. I’d been through it many times. Each time I’d read it, I’d been convinced there might be a connection but had no evidence.
She’d just confirmed my suspicion.
It was now time to prove it.
“That’s who came after Vince Cruz, right? He was the second guy at the door?”
“I don’t think so,” Lindsay said slowly.
Gary stirred uneasily in his chair now that he knew where this was going.
“Are you sure you don’t know anybody named Taylor Goodwin?”
“Yes, positive.”
I nodded, wishing I had evidence that proved otherwise. I wouldn’t let it stop me from pushing forward. “I’d like to ask about your earlier testimony. You mentioned you went to the hallway, peeked out, and noticed my client, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“It also seemed you knew quite a bit about what happened afterward. Were you still watching from your spot around the corner?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
I frowned. “And nobody noticed you spying on their drug deal?”
“No.”
“Most people are cautious when they break the law. Are you sure you weren’t seen?”
“There’s a plant. My head was covered by the leaves. I don’t think anybody would have noticed me.”
I nodded as I let the jury consider this response. Judge Ziegler wasn’t buying it. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be as favorable toward the prosecution as he had been.
“And even after the first gunshot, you still watched long enough to see my client get hit?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you hide when the gun came out?”
There was a long pause. “I was worried about my friend Athena.”
I could have smiled but didn’t.
“If you were so worried, why not call 911?”
“I didn’t think of it.”
“But you’re so worried… so you just watched?”
“It happened fast, okay?”
I’d just scored another point, at least with the judge.
“After the shooter fled, did you call the police?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I think… I was in shock.”
Nobody bought it.
“Did you try to help your friend?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I asked with an exasperated tone.
“I worried the other guy—Vince—would harm me.”
“Can you describe this knife you supposedly saw?”
She shrugged. “It was a knife.”
“Was it a folding knife?”
A very long pause. “I don’t remember.”
“Did you see what happened to it?”
“No.”
“So you don’t remember if he set it down on the floor when he was trying to save your friend Athena Hutton?”
“No.”
“But Vince did try to save Athena Hutton’s life?”
“I don’t know if I’d say that.”
“Did he try to stop the bleeding?”
A very long pause. “I don’t know.”
I waited to see if she’d add anything more, but she didn’t.
I hadn’t gotten as much as I’d wanted out of this line of questioning, but if the judge had concerns, surely some on the jury would too. It might not be enough to deliver me an acquittal, but I was making progress.
I no longer regretted keeping this case.
“Weren’t you dealing drugs with Athena?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Wasn’t this a partnership?”
“No.”
“Isn’t that why you were keeping such a close eye on the transaction instead of calling the cops?”
“No,” Lindsay said, forcing a laugh while glancing over the jury. “Nothing like that ever happened, I can assure you.”
“Earlier, you testified that my client looked like an addict. Is that because you’ve had lots of experience selling to them?”
“No.”
The look on her face said it all.
“So you’re just a user, not a dealer?”
“I’m neither, Mr. Turner,” Lindsay said.
“You know what?” I said, leaning forward. “I don’t believe that. I also think you had a hidden camera in there that the police somehow missed. I think you were watching from the safety of a screen. That’s why you didn’t turn and hide when the gun came out. You were already safe! The police never thought to examine your tablet, did they? They never examined the ceiling, did they?”
This was pure conjecture, but I was hitting close to the mark.
“None of that’s true!”
Her answer was too weak to be believable.
“And you’re sure you didn’t hear the word ‘smack’ when Taylor Goodwin came to the door, right? You’re positive he didn’t show up asking for ‘smack,’ right?”
“No, he certainly didn’t.” A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she paled. “And it wasn’t Taylor Goodwin at the door.”
I smiled. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know. I’d never seen him before in my life.”
“If you have a video of this, why didn’t you give it to the police?”
“I don’t have a video!”
I kept expecting Gary Gibson to object since I was becoming more belligerent by the moment. I refused to glance over to see how he was responding, not wanting to interrupt my flow.
“If you’ve ‘never seen him before in your life,’ how did you know it wasn’t Taylor Goodwin?”
She growled. “I don’t know who it was. You’re twisting my words. I guess it could have been him.”
“I have a picture of Taylor Goodwin. Would you mind looking at it?”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Gary Gibson said, standing slowly to his feet with a bemused expression. “He’s badgering the witness.”
“Your Honor,” I said, feeling reckless but thinking I could get away with it, “it’s clear this witness is lying.”
“May we approach?” Gibson asked a moment later, giving me an inscrutable look.
The judge waved us forward.
“Your Honor,” I said, starting immediately without giving Gibson a chance to take the initiative. I needed to take control. “I haven’t asked anything but appropriate questions. He’s only objecting because his witness is getting uncomfortable. She’s lying under oath! You know it. I’m digging the truth out of her bit by bit. We’re getting close to exposing the full truth. I should be allowed to continue to ask my questions.” I paused, remembering the question I’d been on when Gibson had finally objected. “I should also be able to show a picture of Taylor Goodwin for a positive identification.”
The judge, for once, didn’t immediately rule on what I’d said, but looked instead at Mr. Gibson. “What do you think, Counselor?”
“I think, Your Honor, we should let Mr. Turner ask his questions,” Gibson said slowly and deliberately. It looked painful for him to admit this.
I was glad I’d kept my face passive because I couldn’t have been more surprised.
He had been belated in his objection.
Was he finally seeing the truth?
Gary Gibson looked troubled. “Perhaps there might be some truth to Mr. Turner’s words. I certainly want the jury to see if my witness holds up to scrutiny, but I don’t like Mr. Turner’s tone.”
Maybe my suggestion there was a video had made him unsure. The last thing he wanted was for a video to come out that contradicted his narrative.
It would make him look foolish.
He should have been fighting tooth and nail to keep me from asking these questions. Maybe it was time to change my assessment of him.
“We’ll let you continue, Mr. Turner, but please be careful with your questions. I don’t like to see witnesses mistreated in my courtroom.”
“Will do, Your Honor,” I said, surprised at the bit of luck I’d just had. I’d come to this meeting prepared to fight for my client’s rights, only to find my two adversaries reconsidering their positions.
It was probably incorrect to say I’d lost faith in the justice system after Barbara’s conviction, but if I had, this was helping to restore it.
There was a place for truth in the courtroom, even if it was uncomfortable.
Is there any other kind? I wondered.
I studied Gibson’s concerned face. It wasn’t just my imagination. He was now doubting his witness.
It was time for a total shift in my strategy. I could sense an opportunity even though I couldn’t fully express my plan to take advantage of it.
I was no longer playing to the jury.
I was now playing to Gary Gibson. I had the distinct impression that if I did this right, Gibson might take a hard look at the facts of his case, and if he did, he might conclude they’d made a mistake and charged the wrong person with felony murder.
I walked back to the stand, looked at my notes, and then stared at Lindsay Bruton.
“Lindsay,” I said, “it’s essential you tell us the truth about everything. Did you use drugs? I don’t think you’ll be charged if you admit you were a user. In fact, I’m sure the prosecution will make a deal with you.”
This was a risky ploy, especially after my win with Gibson, but it felt right, so I didn’t hesitate.
I glanced over at Gary Gibson.
This was a test to see if he’d object to me putting words in his mouth. He was studying Lindsay so closely it appeared he hadn’t been paying attention to what I’d said.
One of his associates whispered in his ear.
Gibson stood. “Your Honor,” he said, “I object. I request that the defense not put words into my mouth. We have made no deals with this witness for her testimony. If we need a deal, we’ll take it out of court.”
“Of course,” I said quickly before Judge Ziegler could respond. He had a wry smile on his face but said nothing, giving me an opportunity to go on. “My apologies. I misspoke.”
I was sure my analysis was correct.
Their case against my client was falling apart because Gary Gibson had his doubts.
I had to feed those doubts.
I badly wanted to dig into whether there was a video of the incident and if that was how Lindsay had been viewing the whole thing, but I didn’t want it to blow up in my face if the police went back to examine Athena Hutton’s house and found nothing to indicate there had been a surveillance camera.
It was best I stick to the one thing I knew for sure would fly.
Lindsay was a user and most likely a dealer. Getting an admission on that was all I needed to impeach her.
“So, Lindsay, if you could tell us again, why were you spending so much time with Athena Hutton when she was regularly using and dealing in your presence if you weren’t using and dealing too?”
Lindsay looked worried. “I was trying to help her out,” she said slowly. “I was concerned she was on a bad path. I was trying to help her get off that path.”
It wasn’t a bad play, but if this was her motive, she should have said this at first, not after the fact, not now that we’d returned to it again.
It looked like she’d made this up.
“A noble impulse, to be sure, but wouldn’t it have been better if you’d have stepped out while she was using? You know, made some sort of point that you disapproved of what she was doing instead of staying there, inhaling the secondhand smoke?”
“Perhaps the smoke didn’t bother me all that much.”
I loved this answer.
She was trying it out, scrutinizing the jury and Gary Gibson to see if they believed her.
I don’t know what she saw because I kept my focus on her.
“I see,” I said, “but you did inhale the smoke, secondhand, of course, right?”
“Sure,” she said.
I glanced at Gary Gibson. He was no longer buying that she was just a secondhand user.
I was getting close.
“Now, as you recall, I said I had a picture I’d like to show you.” I reached into my binder and pulled it out. “Permission to approach the witness, Your Honor?” I asked, half expecting Gary to come to his senses and object.
Gibson stayed in his seat, even when one of his associates leaned over. The judge studied him before turning to me.
“Go ahead, Counselor,”
There was a change in the judge’s tone.
I couldn’t explain Judge Ziegler’s initial bias against my client and me. Perhaps it was just that I was an out-of-town attorney, coming into his courtroom, acting like I knew what I was doing. Maybe I’d rubbed him the wrong way during our previous hearings or at the beginning of the trial. Perhaps he just didn’t like Vince Cruz.
That sort of thing happened.
Whatever it was, it appeared I’d somehow gotten through.
Maybe it was just because Judge Ziegler and Gary Gibson were experienced enough to know that I’d been making headway with this witness.
Even though I couldn’t explain it, I was glad for it and intended to take advantage of it. I strode forward, keeping the picture close to my chest, while Lindsay stared with uncertain eyes.
She was nervous.
She was afraid I’d somehow trip her up again. Perhaps she thought I had evidence she and Taylor Goodwin had met or somehow knew each other.
I carefully watched her eyes and stepped to the side to make sure Gary Gibson had a clear shot of her face as I flipped the picture over and showed her a picture of Taylor Goodwin. “You’ve never seen this guy before in your life?”
“Maybe I have,” she finally said. “Only I didn’t know his name.”
“When did you see him?”
“He was there that night. That’s the man who killed Athena Hutton.”
This was exactly what my client would say when he took the stand.
And she knew it.
Lindsay Bruton was trying to cut her losses and salvage what she could.
She studied me and then glanced over at the jury. It was clear she was thinking about how this looked to them. She also had to be wondering what I knew. Most importantly, she knew she needed to explain this.
She licked her lips.
“If you would’ve shown me this picture first, I could’ve told you he is the killer. I don’t know who that Tyler Goodman fellow is, though.”
Her attempt to get Taylor’s name wrong was garbled.
I didn’t buy it.
I doubted anybody else bought it.
“So you’re sure this is the person who killed your friend?”
There was a long pause before she looked up. “Yes.”
It was barely audible.
“I’m not sure I heard you.”
“Yes. He’s the killer.”
I was tempted to stop right there, but I wasn’t done yet.
“Do you know who called the police?”
This was a difficult question for her to answer, but she finally did. “I believe it was Vince Cruz.”
“Why would he call the police if he was in cahoots with Taylor Goodwin?”
“I don’t know.”
I normally would have expected an objection from the prosecution with a question like that, but Gary Gibson stayed in his seat.
I kept my smile from showing as I turned and studied Gibson. Lindsay Bruton had told us a lot of lies, but she was now telling the truth.
Gary Gibson was convinced; he had to be.
He’d just seen the shift in Lindsay Bruton’s strategy. She’d gone from denying knowledge about Taylor Goodwin to flipping, thinking she needed to save her own skin because she was afraid I’d trot out evidence against her.
Where there’s smoke, I thought.
Perhaps my suggestion she might work out a deal with the prosecution was now foremost on her mind.
“I have no further questions for this witness,” I said, returning to my chair.
82
The judge dismissed us for lunch.
