'So why would he waste it over my ex-wife?'
'Because you put him on national TV and tell the world he's a dealer for a Mexican cartel, his employer is liable to use him for fish bait.'
FORTY-SIX
On the third day of trial, Scott Fenney stood and called Benito Estrada to the witness stand. Benito wore a white silk suit, crisp white shirt, and a white tie to court. He glowed under the fluorescent lights.
'Mr. Estrada, I understand that you are a distributor of pharmaceutical products, is that correct?'
'Pharmaceutical products?' A little smile. 'Uh, yes, that is correct. I am a distributor of pharmaceutical products.'
The jurors smiled, too. They might possess only high school educations, but they weren't stupid.
'And did you have occasion to sell pharmaceutical products to Trey Rawlins?'
'Yes, I did have that occasion.'
'And did you allow Mr. Rawlins to purchase your products on credit?'
'Yes, I did.'
'At the time of his death, how much did Mr. Rawlins owe you for products he had purchased from you?'
'Five hundred thousand dollars.'
'And did he refuse to repay that sum?'
'Yes.'
'Why?'
'He disputed delivery.'
'He claimed he had not received the products?'
'That is correct.'
'But you did make delivery, did you not?'
'I did make delivery. To his residence.'
'And, subsequent to his death, did you learn that you were both correct?'
Benito sighed. 'Yes.'
'Why is that?'
'The products were stolen from his residence before he took possession.'
'Mr. Estrada, what did you do about Mr. Rawlins' outstanding debt?'
'I referred him to our collections department.'
'And where is your collections department located?'
'Nuevo Laredo.'
'Mexico. So yours is an international operation?'
'Yes, very much so.'
'And do you know if your collections department was able to secure payment of Mr. Rawlins' outstanding debt?'
'I do not know.'
'Would you say that your collections department is aggressive in its collection efforts?'
'Aggressive? Yes. Very.'
'Nonpayment is not an option?'
'No, it is not.'
A common defense strategy is to preempt the prosecution. Rather than wait for the prosecution to present bad evidence about the defendant, a savvy defense lawyer will present it first, to lessen its impact on the jury. Of course, that strategy works only if the defendant has told the truth-at least to her lawyer.
'Mr. Estrada, have you ever met the defendant?'
Benito looked to Rebecca and smiled. 'Yes, we have met.'
'Did she recently come to your place of business?'
'Yes.'
'And did she purchase pharmaceutical products from you?'
'Yes.'
'And did she pay for those products by giving you her jewelry?'
Benito frowned, and Scott knew the strategy had backfired.
'Jewelry? What jewelry?'
'Thank you, Mr. Estrada. No further questions.'
The D.A.'s head had been down during most of Benito's testimony. Scott now sat at the defense table, hoping the D.A. had missed the importance of Benito's last answer-but he knew Rex Truitt didn't miss anything.
The D.A. stood. 'Mr. Estrada, do you know who killed Trey Rawlins?'
'No.'
'No further questions.'
The judge declared a short recess. After the courtroom had emptied, Scott turned to Rebecca. 'You said you paid Benito with your jewelry. He doesn't know anything about any jewelry. Rebecca, if Rex had followed up on that, he could've shown the jury we lied to them. We said you had no money. But you paid Benito in cash. You have that mob money, don't you?'
'No!'
Scott needed to calm down, he needed to find Benito, and he needed to use the men's room. So he stood and went out into the corridor. Gabe and his goon were leaning against the windows. Renee sat in her booth; Scott walked over to her.
'Did you see Benito?'
She covered her microphone with her hand and whispered. 'He left. Fast.'
Scott continued down the hall to the men's room. He was standing at a urinal and thinking about Rebecca's latest lie when he zipped up and turned around and came face to face with Gabe's goon. And he realized that Louis hadn't followed him out of the courtroom.
'I guess I didn't make myself clear on the beach.' The goon grabbed Scott by his shirt. 'The Vegas boys don't want Gabe to testify.'
A toilet flushed.
A stall door swung open, and Louis's massive body filled the opening. He stepped out and loomed large over Gabe's goon-and blocked his path to the door. The goon released Scott's shirt.
'Sorry, Mr. Fenney, nature called. Would you excuse us?'
Scott smiled at the goon and slipped past Louis and out the door. He walked back down the corridor to the courtroom. Gabe saw him and looked for his goon. But it was Louis walking down the corridor. Scott waited for him; they entered the courtroom together.
'Louis, I didn't see the goon leave.'
'He left, Mr. Fenney. Through the window.'
'But we're on the fourth floor.'
'Yes, sir, we sure are.'
'Mr. Petrocelli, what line of business are you in?'
Gabe wore a plaid sports coat over a knit shirt. 'I own a bar on the Strand.'
'Do you make book?'
'I make martinis.'
'Did you know Trey Rawlins?'
'Yeah, I knew him.'
'Were you aware of a debt Mr. Rawlins owed the Las Vegas casinos?'
'I heard of such a debt.'
'And did you hear that that debt was fifteen million dollars?'
