with a trial. If there was any room within the sentencing guidelines, she always went to the max, whether it was prison or probation. It had gotten her a telling sobriquet among the defense pros who worked the Van Nuys courthouse. They called her Judge Fullbite.
“Mr. Haller,” she said, “are you planning to reserve your statement?”
“No, Your Honor, but I believe I am going to be pretty quick.”
“Very good,” she said. “Then we’ll hear from you and then we’ll take lunch.”
The truth was I didn’t know how long I would be. Minton had been about forty minutes and I knew I would take close to that. But I had told the judge I’d be quick simply because I didn’t like the idea of the jury going to lunch with only the prosecutor’s side of the story to think about as they chewed their hamburgers and tuna salads.
I got up and went to the lectern located between the prosecution and defense tables. The courtroom was one of the recently rehabbed spaces in the old courthouse. It had twin jury boxes on either side of the bench. Everything was done in a blond wood, including the rear wall behind the bench. The door to the judge’s chambers was almost hidden in the wall, its lines camouflaged in the lines and grain of the wood. The doorknob was the only giveaway.
Fullbright ran her trials like a federal judge. Attorneys were not allowed to approach witnesses without permission and never allowed to approach the jury box. They were required to speak from the lectern only.
Standing now at the lectern, the jury was in the box to my right and closer to the prosecution table than to the defense’s. This was fine with me. I didn’t want them to get too close a look at Roulet. I wanted him to be a bit of a mystery to them.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” I began, “my name is Michael Haller and I am representing Mr. Roulet during this trial. I am happy to tell you that this trial will most likely be a quick one. Just a few more days of your time will be taken. In the long run you will probably see that it took us longer to pick all of you than it will take to present both sides of the case. The prosecutor, Mr. Minton, seemed to spend his time this morning telling you about what he thinks all the evidence means and who Mr. Roulet really is. I would advise you to simply sit back, listen to the evidence and let your common sense tell you what it all means and who Mr. Roulet is.”
I kept my eyes moving from juror to juror. I rarely looked down at the pad I had placed on the lectern. I wanted them to think I was shooting the breeze with them, talking off the top of my head.
“Usually, what I like to do is reserve my opening statement. In a criminal trial the defense always has the option of giving an opener at the start of the trial, just as Mr. Minton did, or right before presenting the defense’s case. Normally, I would take the second option. I would wait and make my statement before trotting out all the defense’s witnesses and evidence. But this case is different. It’s different because the prosecution’s case is also going to be the defense’s case. You’ll certainly hear from some defense witnesses, but the heart and soul of this case is going to be the prosecution’s evidence and witnesses and how you decide to interpret them. I guarantee you that a version of the events and evidence far different from what Mr. Minton just outlined is going to emerge in this courtroom. And when it comes time to present the defense’s case, it probably won’t even be necessary.”
I checked the scorekeeper and saw her pencil moving across the page of her notebook.
“I think that what you are going to find here this week is that this whole case will come down to the actions and motivations of one person. A prostitute who saw a man with outward signs of wealth and chose to target him. The evidence will show this clearly and it will be shown by the prosecution’s own witnesses.”
Minton stood up and objected, saying I was going out of bounds in trying to impeach the state’s main witness with unsubstantiated accusations. There was no legal basis for the objection. It was just an amateurish attempt to send a message to the jury. The judge responded by inviting us to a sidebar.
We walked to the side of the bench and the judge flipped on a sound neutralizer which sent white noise from a speaker on the bench toward the jury and prevented them from hearing what was whispered in the sidebar. The judge was quick with Minton, like an assassin.
“Mr. Minton, I know you are new to felony trial work, so I see I will have to school you as we go. But don’t you ever object during an opening statement in my courtroom. This isn’t evidence he’s presenting. I don’t care if he says your own mother is the defendant’s alibi witness, you don’t object in front of my jury.”
“Your Hon-”
“That’s it. Go back.”
She rolled her seat back to the center of the bench and flicked off the white noise. Minton and I returned to our positions without further word.
“Objection overruled,” the judge said. “Continue, Mr. Haller, and let me remind you that you said you would be quick.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. That is still my plan.”
I referred to my notes and then looked back at the jury. Knowing that Minton would have been intimidated to silence by the judge, I decided to raise the rhetoric up a notch, go off notes and get directly to the windup.
“Ladies and gentlemen, in essence, what you will be deciding here is who the real predator was in this case. Mr. Roulet, a successful businessman with a spotless record, or an admitted prostitute with a successful business in taking money from men in exchange for sex. You will hear testimony that the alleged victim in this case was engaged in an act of prostitution with another man just moments before this supposed attack occurred. And you will hear testimony that within days of this supposedly life-threatening assault, she was back in business once again, trading sex for money.”
I glanced at Minton and saw he was doing a slow burn. He had his eyes downcast on the table in front of him and he was slowly shaking his head. I looked up at the judge.
“Your Honor, could you instruct the prosecutor to refrain from demonstrating in front of the jury? I did not object or in any way try to distract the jury during his opening statement.”
“Mr. Minton,” the judge intoned, “please sit still and extend the courtesy to the defense that was extended to you.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Minton said meekly.
The jury had now seen the prosecutor slapped down twice and we weren’t even past openers. I took this as a good sign and it fed my momentum. I looked back at the jury and noticed that the scorekeeper was still writing.
“Finally, you will receive testimony from many of the state’s own witnesses that will provide a perfectly acceptable explanation for much of the physical evidence in this case. I am talking about the blood and about the knife Mr. Minton mentioned. Taken individually or as a whole, the prosecution’s own case will provide you with more than reasonable doubt about the guilt of my client. You can mark it down in your notebooks. I guarantee you will find that you have only one choice at the end of this case. And that is to find Mr. Roulet not guilty of these charges. Thank you.”
As I walked back to my seat I winked at Lorna Taylor. She nodded at me as if to say I had done well. My attention was then drawn to the two figures sitting two rows behind her. Lankford and Sobel. They had slipped in after I had first surveyed the gallery.
I took my seat and ignored the thumbs-up gesture given me by my client. My mind was on the two Glendale detectives, wondering what they were doing in the courtroom. Watching me? Waiting for me?
The judge dismissed the jury for lunch and everyone stood while the scorekeeper and her colleagues filed out. After they were gone Minton asked the judge for another sidebar. He wanted to try to explain his objection and repair the damage but not in open court. The judge said no.
“I’m hungry, Mr. Minton, and we’re past that now. Go to lunch.”
She left the bench, and the courtroom that had been so silent except for the voices of lawyers then erupted in chatter from the gallery and the court workers. I put my pad in my briefcase.
“That was really good,” Roulet said. “I think we’re already ahead of the game.”
I looked at him with dead eyes.
“It’s no game.”
“I know that. It’s just an expression. Listen, I am having lunch with Cecil and my mother. We would like you to join us.”
I shook my head.
“I have to defend you, Louis, but I don’t have to eat with you.”
I took my checkbook out of my briefcase and left him there. I walked around the table to the clerk’s station so that I could write out a check for five hundred dollars. The money didn’t hurt as much as I knew the bar review that
