L. DIANA DAVIS put her hands on both sides of the lectern and wiggled it until it was centered on the jury box. Then she looked up at the jurors, said, “Good morning. I want to thank the prosecution for giving my opening statement for me.
“Saved us all a lot of time.”
Davis warmed to the laughter in the gallery and was glad to see that a few of the jurors had joined in. She put one hand on her hip, smiled, and went on.
“Remember the advertising slogan? ‘Where’s the beef?’ That’s what I want to know, and you’re going to want to know it, too. As the People just told you, ladies and gentlemen, this is a noncase. If the young man in question weren’t a celebrity, I doubt the DA would have the nerve to bring this case to trial.
“Ms. Castellano is right when she says no body, no crime.
“Not only is there no body, there’s no weapon, and in this day of advanced forensic science, there isn’t even a microscopic trace of evidence at the so-called crime scene. Oh, yes,” Davis said as if it were an aside. “After an
“An expert witness will talk about this syndrome of false confessions, a sign of emotional battery, which is what happened to Ms. Moon. And Ms. Moon will tell you about the night of January twenty-first herself. All the prosecution has to present to you is the retracted confession of a terrified young woman who was intimidated by the interrogation of an aggressive, motivated team of homicide inspectors who had an agenda: to hang the disappearance of the governor’s son on
“They picked Junie Moon.
“Over the next few days, you will hear the preposterous case against her. There will be no DNA evidence, and Henry Lee won’t be coming here with photos of blood spatter to tell you how this so-called crime went down.
“Even Ricardo Malcolm, Ms. Moon’s former boyfriend, won’t be called to testify for the prosecution, because he told the police that Junie never
“So what did happen to Michael Campion?
“We know – everyone in the free world knew – Michael Campion had a serious, congenital, and potentially fatal heart condition, and that he was living on borrowed time. After he left his house on the night of January twenty-first,
“When you’ve heard this case in its entirety, the prosecution will ask you to find Ms. Moon guilty beyond reasonable doubt. And common sense will tell you that Ms. Moon is
“And as sure as I’m standing in front of you, Junie Moon is
Chapter 36
THE BAILIFF CALLED MY NAME and I got up from the bench in the hallway, stiff-armed the double doors of the vestibule to the courtroom, and strode up the aisle. Heads turned as I approached the witness stand. And I was reminded again that the case against Junie Moon would hang in large part on my testimony. And that L. Diana Davis was going to do her best to crush me.
I swore to tell the truth and took my seat, and my good friend Yuki asked me preliminary questions, setting up my time and grade as a police officer.
Then she asked, “Sergeant Boxer, did you interview the defendant on April nineteenth?”
“Yes. Inspector Richard Conklin and I first interviewed her in her house, and then later at the southern division of the SFPD, on the third floor of this building.
“Did she seem afraid or anxious or intimidated?”
“Actually, no. She seemed quite comfortable. In fact, she agreed to come to the Hall for questioning.”
“At that time, did you ask her about Michael Campion?”
“We did.”
“And what was her response?” Yuki asked.
“At first she told us that she had never met Michael Campion. Approximately two hours later, she asked us to shut off the video camera.”
“And what happened after that?”
In answer to Yuki’s questions, I told the jury what Junie had told me and Conklin – how the victim had expired, that she had called Ricky Malcolm, and what the two of them had done with Michael Campion’s body.
“Did you have any reason to doubt this story?” Yuki asked.
“No. I found her quite credible.”
“Did you interview the defendant at any other time?”
“Yes. We met with Ms. Moon a few days later at the women’s jail. We hoped Ms. Moon might remember the name of the town where she and her boyfriend disposed of Mr. Campion’s remains.”
“And did she remember?”
“Yes. The town of Jackson, about three and a half hours northeast, in Amador County.”
“So to be clear, this was a second interview?”
“Correct.”
“Was the defendant under duress?”
“
“Sustained,” Judge Bendinger snapped.
“I’ll rephrase,” Yuki said. “Did you threaten the defendant? Deny her food or water or sleep?”
“No.”
“She gave you this information of her own volition?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” Yuki said to me. “I have no further questions.”
And then L. Diana Davis was in my face.
Chapter 37
TO MY SURPRISE, L. Diana Davis was petite, maybe five three, and I guessed that her close-up shots on the small screen and her reputation had made her seem larger than life.
“Sergeant Boxer,” Davis said. “You’ve been a homicide inspector for over ten years. You’ve investigated countless homicides. You’ve interrogated innumerable suspects, and you knew that eventually you’d be sitting in a courtroom telling us what happened in the case against Junie Moon. Isn’t that true?”
“Yes.”
“So how did you get the defendant to confess, Sergeant? Tell her that accidents happen? That she wasn’t culpable?”
I knew damned well to keep my answers short and blunt, but looking at Davis ’s expression, half kindly grandma, half bulldog, I felt a need to let my mouth do the talking.
“I may have said things like that. Interrogations aren’t one size fits all. Sometimes you’ve got to raise your voice. Sometimes you’ve got to be sympathetic. And sometimes you’ve got to lie to a subject,” I said. “There are legal boundaries for interrogations, and my partner and I stayed within those boundaries.”
Davis smiled, turned, and walked toward the jury, turned back to face me.
“Is that so?” she said. “Now, you’ve testified that the defendant asked you to turn off the tape during your interrogation at the police station.”
