Try Fear - By James Scott Bell Page 0,88
must happen all the time, right? I mean, that’s why men use these escort services, just so they can enjoy some intellectual conversation.”
“Objection,” I said.
“Sustained.”
“Let me rephrase the question,” Radavich said. “You are, to use an old English word, a whore.”
“Objection!”
The judge looked at Radavich. “Sustained.”
Radavich didn’t miss a beat. “How many men have you had sexual relations with in the last year?”
“I object,” I said. “A witness’s sexual history is inadmissible.”
Judge Hughes shook his head. “This falls under 782 of the Evidence Code, and she is not a complaining witness. This goes to credibility. The witness has testified about her services, and Mr. Radavich may cross-examine her on it. Overruled. Answer the question, Ms. Salgado.”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Too many to count?” Radavich said.
Leilana flipped her hair back. “I don’t count.”
“How about more than ten? Is it more than ten?”
“I suppose.”
“We don’t want any supposing here, madam.”
Radavich was going to back her up into a dark, dank corner. And there was nothing I could do. The judge was going to allow everything short of Radavich slapping her around. I could keep objecting, but the jury gets annoyed with that, once they know the judge is not going to sustain you. I’d have to wait for an objection I could win.
“Mr. Buchanan asked if you have received any offers regarding your story. You denied that, and denied seeking any offers, is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“Of course nothing can stop you from shopping this around after you’re finished, right?”
“I don’t know. I’m not interested.”
“Are you telling us today that you will not sell your story, in any form whatsoever?”
“Yes.”
“And do you, madam, expect anyone here to believe you?”
She flashed anger. “I don’t care what anybody believes.”
“Exactly,” Radavich said. “I have no further questions.”
142
ON RE-DIRECT, I had to rehab my witness but fast. I didn’t know if I could do it.
Then it turned out my wit did it for me.
“Ms. Salgado,” I said, “the prosecutor was pretty rough on you just now.”
“It’s all right,” she said quietly.
“When Mr. Radavich called you a whore, how did that make you feel?”
She looked at Tom Radavich, then back at me. Her breathing got labored. Then tears pooled in her eyes. She fought them back. She opened her mouth to speak, and couldn’t.
“Do we need to take a short break?” Judge Hughes said.
Leilana shook her head. “I’m sorry. No. I can answer.”
The clerk brought her a box of tissues. Leilana took one and touched her eyes. Then she said, “He didn’t say anything I haven’t heard before. Since I was twelve, that’s what I’ve been told I was. By my father, then my stepfather, then my brothers. You get to believe it after a while. And you hang on to anything that’ll keep you from killing yourself. Like this.”
“This?” I said.
“This trial. To tell the truth. To help somebody. Because that’s what you’re supposed to do. That’s all.”
And then she was in tears again.
For a moment the courtroom was silent. Then I said, “No more questions.”
The judge said, “Anything further of this witness, Mr. Radavich?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Ms. Salgado, you are excused,” Hughes said. “But you are subject to recall if the prosecution so wishes. Do you understand that?”
Leilana nodded. She left the witness box and crossed the courtroom, head down, moving quickly. As she did, Hughes said, “You may call your next witness, Mr. Buchanan.”
I paused until Leilana was out the courtroom doors.
And had a sudden inspiration, the kind trial lawyers learn to trust. I decided not to put on my forensics guy. You can overtry a case, the way the prosecutors in O.J. did. I didn’t want the jury to think of the science any more than they already had. The whole thing was going to be about the alibi.
I turned to the judge and said, “The defense rests.”
143
NOW RADAVICH WAS the one thrown off his game. It was 11:54 when I wrapped it up, and the judge wanted to know if Radavich would present anything on rebuttal. Radavich moaned and whined and said he would need the weekend and the judge gave it to him.
After talking to Kate, and assuring her that things went about as well as they could, I told her to try to get some rest. She asked about Sister Mary and I told her I would see her in a little while.
“Tell her God is being merciful to me,” Kate said. “I feel, for the first time, that I might possibly get my son back. The one son I have left.”