Larry Witt just wasn't involved in any of this, or if he was there's no evidence of it.'
'He called Crane amp; Crane.'
'About this? Did he talk to Crane himself, or Bachman? And if so, about what? Is there any telling?' She shook her head. 'I'm sorry, Mr. Hardy, I really am. I can see you are trying your damnedest, as you should, but I'm not going to admit unsubstantiated theories, and that's what this is.'
She was moving him with her toward the door. 'And now, please excuse me. I've got two hours of brief I've got to wade through in” – she looked at her watch – 'forty minutes.'
48
Evidently, a lot of people in the courtroom had read the morning paper, or seen the news on television. When Hardy called Nancy to the stand, the reaction was audible.
She was sitting in the first gallery row, next to Dr. Lightner, directly behind Hardy and Jennifer, and she stood stiffly, the way a person would be expected to stand with taped and broken ribs. She still had the bandage over her nose, her eyes black and swollen.
Reporters were snapping photos as she inched painfully toward the center aisle. Villars was not having this – she had allowed cameras inside the courtroom up to this time, so long as their use was unobtrusive, but this action crossed her line.
She rapped her gavel. 'That's enough pictures. All of you sit down. As of this moment I'm forbidding cameras in this courtroom. Anybody who's got one can leave now. Bailiffs, make sure that they do.'
The bailiffs moved up to the rail. In the ensuing hubbub, as reporters either left with their own cameras or gave them to assistants to remove, Nancy DiStephano made it through the rail, stopping at the defense table. Jennifer reached over and the two women held hands briefly, wordlessly. Her mother straightened up and forced herself to the front of the courtroom to be sworn in.
Hardy assumed his position about ten feet in front of the witness box. 'Mrs. DiStephano, what is your relationship to the defendant?'
'I'm her mother.'
Apparently not everyone had known what the earlier commotion surrounding this witness was about because this admission caused another ripple of sound across the back of the courtroom. Villars didn't act so Hardy had to wait for it to subside.
'Mrs. DiStephano, may I call you Nancy?'
'Sure.'
Hardy reasoned that his best odds were to face it head-on. 'For the jury's benefit, Nancy, I wonder if you could tell us about your injuries?'
Powell jumped up. 'Objection, Your Honor. Irrelevant.'
Amazingly, Villars asked for an argument before her ruling. 'Mr. Hardy?'
'Your Honor, Mrs. Witt grew up in her mother's home. The person she has become was formed there. The jury should be aware of this environment.'
Villars said she would allow the line of questioning. Hardy thanked her.
It seemed to him that he and the judge had – perhaps by osmosis – reached some accord. It might be the more relaxed rule governing admissibility in this phase of the trial, but he sensed it was something more.
Hardy approached the witness stand. 'Nancy, you've recently been released from the hospital, is that right?'
'Yes.'
'Would you tell us the extent of your injuries?'
Nancy described the broken ribs, broken nose, the kidney damage that caused her to urinate blood, the bruises on her breasts, torso, thighs.
'And how did you sustain these injuries?'
'My husband beat me up.'
The courtroom was rapt, silent.
'Your husband, Phil DiStephano, the natural father of the defendant?'
'Yes.'
'And was this the first time he'd beaten you?'
Talking about it, Nancy was starting to withdraw, to hunch her shoulders, the way her daughter did. Or was it more the other way around? She shook her head and Villars leaned over, speaking quietly. 'You'll have to answer with words, please.'
'No,' Nancy said, 'it wasn't the first time.'
To give her a moment, Hardy stepped toward the jury box, turned to look at his client – Jennifer was frowning, not liking this. Hardy came back to Nancy. 'Did your husband beat you often?'
The witness shook her head, then, remembering, said, 'yes.'
'How long has it been since your daughter, the defendant, moved out of the house?'
'About ten years.'
'And before she moved out, did you suffer these beatings at the hands of her father?'
'Yes… it's always been there. Phil would drink too much and get mad about something and hit me.'
'And did this ever happen in Jennifer's sight?'
'Yes.'
'Did he ever hit your daughter?'
She shook her head. 'No. He threatened a couple of times but I wouldn't let him. I got between them. He loved her.' Tears had begun to show on her cheeks. 'He just lost control.'
'He just lost control,' Hardy repeated. Taking a few steps again toward the jury, he continued: 'In your opinion, Nancy, did this pattern of your husband beating you have any obvious effect on Jennifer's behavior?'
Nancy was toughing it out, letting the tears come. But, as Jennifer did, she spoke clearly through them. 'We didn't talk about it afterward.'
This wasn't the answer to the question, but it moved toward it. 'You didn't talk about what?'
'They just happened and then they went away and everything went back to being the same.'
'You denied that this was happening? The family denied it?'
'Yes. We just pretended.'
'And Jennifer?'
'She got more and more quiet. And then she moved out.'
'You'd say she became withdrawn, moody, mistrustful?' This was leading her all over the meadow, but he was allowed to do it in this phase and it would, he hoped, go a long way to explain to the jury Jennifer's apparent callousness in the face of the authority of the court.
'Yes.' Nancy looked over at her daughter. 'She was such a sweet little girl. She was my baby girl…'
Although she was maintaining her composure, Nancy's emotion lay over her like a blanket – her face was blotching with tears. Villars leaned over again. 'Mrs. DiStephano? Would you like to take break?'
They were moving on.
'Nancy, did your daughter ever talk about how she felt about Matt?'
'Matt was her life.'
'Matt was her life.' He took in the jury, then went back to the witness. 'She loved her son?'
'Completely. Oh, God, yes.'
'Did you ever see any sign at all that she ever mistreated him, abused him, anything like that?'
'No, nothing. If anything, I thought she was a little overprotective. Maybe she spoiled him more than I would have. But I understand where that came from.'
'And where was that?'
