Try Fear - By James Scott Bell Page 0,87
not part of the service. If it happens, it is considered optional with each one of us.”
I had to be up front with the jury. “Some people would call you a hooker or a prostitute, isn’t that correct?”
“I’ve been called a lot of things.”
“In fact,” I said, “by testifying here today, you are putting yourself in legal jeopardy, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
The foundation was set. It’s powerful evidence of credibility when what you say in court could hurt you. The jury was ready to listen.
“On January thirty of this year, were your services retained by the defendant, Eric Richess?”
“Yes.”
“Please tell the jury when and where you arranged to meet.”
Like a seasoned pro, Leilana turned toward the jury. “He wanted to meet me in Long Beach, so I gave him a price for the time. He wanted me to select a location. Our escort service has a database of acceptable places. I chose one and had him meet me there.”
So far, so good. She sounded certain and credible and somewhat humble. No chip on the shoulder. The jury would like that. Some of them, anyway.
“What time did he meet you?” I said.
“Approximately eight-thirty.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because we went to a bar and had a drink, and got back to the motel around nine o’clock. That’s when I paid for the room.”
“You paid for the room?”
“Yes.”
“Is that a common practice?”
“Sometimes, if the client wishes to remain anonymous.”
I went to the counsel table and got the receipt Leilana had given me. “Showing you now what has been marked Defense Exhibit Four for identification, can you tell me what that is?” I put it on the rail of the witness box.
She picked it up, looked at it, put it down. “It’s the motel receipt.”
“What time does it say on the receipt?”
“9:02 p.m.”
“Did you secure a room?”
“Yes.”
“Without going into any detail, how long were you with Mr. Richess?”
“I was with him until eleven p.m.”
“How can you be sure?”
“That’s the time he paid for. He paid me for two hours. Then he left.”
“And what did you do after he left?”
“I watched TV. I watched the Tonight Show. I like Jay Leno.”
A little laughter broke out in the courtroom. Most of the jury laughed, too. They were warming to her. There is something about witnesses completely open about what they do that juries appreciate. A witness who tries to hide things is the one you don’t trust.
“After the Jay Leno show, what did you do?”
“I checked out and went home.”
“Ms. Salgado, is there any doubt whatsoever in your mind that you were with the defendant, Eric Richess, from approximately eight-thirty p.m. to a little after eleven p.m. on the night of January thirty?”
“No doubt whatsoever.”
“Why didn’t you agree to testify earlier?”
“I was scared. When you do what I do, you don’t exactly want to be spreading the news in court.”
“And why have you decided to come forward?”
She looked at Eric. There was warmth in her eyes. “He was nice. He was one of the nicer men I’ve been with. I just couldn’t let him be convicted of something he didn’t do.”
I paused. “Ms. Salgado. Have you contacted, or been contacted by, any tabloid newspaper, book publisher, Internet site, or any other media outlet whatsoever, in connection with your testimony here today?”
“No, I have not.”
“Have you received any money, or the promise of any money, for your testimony?”
“No.”
“Thank you.” I turned to Radavich. “Your witness.”
141
TOM RADAVICH WASTED no time. He stood up, buttoned his suit coat and, without notes, tore into the witness.
“You’re a hooker, is that what you said?” he said.
Leilana’s eyes darkened. “I said I am an escort. I don’t walk the streets.”
“You have sex for money, don’t you?”
“Sex is optional.”
“Please, madam, you don’t expect anyone in this courtroom to believe in a legal fiction, do you?”
I objected. “I object to the use of the term madam. It’s argumentative and Mr. Radavich is just using loaded language for the jury.”
Judge Hughes looked at me. “I’ve allowed your witness to take the stand, Mr. Buchanan. I’m going to allow the prosecutor wide latitude in his cross-examination. You may continue, Mr. Radavich.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. You have sex with the men you escort, don’t you, madam?”
“Sometimes.”
“Always.”
“Not always.”
“And that’s because, for one reason or another, you call off the whole deal, isn’t it?”
“That sometimes happens.”
“Meaning you don’t get paid for your time.”
“Sometimes.”
“Let me put it this way. Every time you get paid to escort someone, you have sex with him, isn’t that right?”
“No. Sometimes the client opts not to.”
“Oh, that