by the Khmer Rouge; the disappearance of Chou's brother and two sisters; the desperate flight through Vietnam of Meng and Chou—pregnant with Thuy Sen—and their three-year-old daughter, Kim; their harrowing voyage to Thailand on a boat which smuggled refugees in return for what little money the Sens had left; Thuy's birth in a refugee camp; their dream of reaching safety in America. The next minutes were spent recalling the sweetness and docility of the victim, helping the jury to see her. And then, through questions Mauriani found difficult to ask, and Chou Sen harder to answer, they evoked the two agonizing days between Thuy Sen's disappearance and the moment her parents next saw her—a bloated corpse viewed through a window—and learned how she had died.
Mauriani had an eye for swing jurors, and he had picked out three to watch—the businesslike accountant whom he guessed would become the foreman; the Latina waitress with the expressive eyes and placid manner; and the no-nonsense black day-care worker. His questioning completed, Mauriani glanced at them as he returned to the prosecution table.
The accountant, Henry Feldt, was intently watching Yancey James approach the witness. Anna Velez gazed at Meng Sen, sitting with his head bowed in mute anguish. But the day-care worker, Candace Bender, was studying the defendants.
He followed her gaze. Payton Price showed little emotion—only a narrowing of his eyes, a stiffness in the way he sat, betrayed his tension. Rennell was different. Sitting back in his chair with folded arms, he appeared either to be asleep, or to be dismissing Chou Sen and her heartache as unworthy of his attention.
As his clients' instructor in decorum, Mauriani thought, Yancey James left something to be desired. Dressing them in suit and tie would not be enough to overcome a demeanor like Rennell's—when Mauriani looked back at Candace Bender, she was staring at Rennell Price with her lips pressed tight.
James, it seemed at once, would be no help to his clients. After introducing himself to the witness, he asked bluntly, 'Your daughter left school alone that day, didn't she?'
Chou Sen nodded her head in sorrow. 'Yes.'
Even this one-word answer seemed to drain her. In James's position, Mauriani thought, he would get her off the stand as quickly as he could, then go after the other, less sympathetic witnesses, who had actual evidence to offer. Mauriani had already accomplished his mission in leading with Chou Sen—creating sympathy while bringing Thuy Sen to life—and Clarence Darrow reincarnate could not undo the damage.
But James seemed not to know this. His only concession to this woman's tragedy was to mute his accustomed grandiloquence, as though this might disguise the offensiveness of his questions. 'And why,' he prodded, 'was Thuy alone?'
Chou Sen clasped her hands together. 'She stayed after school. For extra help from the teacher. Her sister, Kim, didn't wait.'
'Did you tell Kim to wait?'
'No.' Briefly Chou's eyes closed. 'I thought she knew.'
Could it be, Mauriani wondered in astonishment, that James would actually try to impugn the victim's family? 'But when Kim came home alone,' James continued, 'you knew Thuy also would be walking alone. Did you go to the school?'
'No.'
'Why not?'
Chou hesitated. 'I eat bad fish the night before. Bad stomach.'
In fact, Mauriani knew, Chou had suffered vomiting and diarrhea so debilitating that she could hardly get out of bed. He had not brought this out on direct; he had not imagined where James was going now.
Briefly, the lawyer dabbed his nose. 'Bad stomach,' he repeated skeptically. 'Did you send Kim back to look for her?'
'No. Didn't want her to go back alone.'
'Or your husband?'
Chou glanced toward Meng. 'Not home.'
'So you decided to let your nine-year-old daughter walk home by herself.'
'Yes.' Chou's voice was soft with misery. 'Alone.'
'How many blocks is it from school to home?'
Chou shook her head. 'Don't know.'
'Sixteen blocks, Mrs. Sen. Do you know what goes on in sixteen blocks in the Bayview District?'
Out of compassion for Chou Sen, Mauriani considered objecting, then decided not to disrupt her antagonist's suicide-in-progress. 'What you mean?' she asked.
'Do you know that some young girls in the Bayview start trading sex for cocaine?'
Chou swallowed. 'Don't know.'
'You don't know? You live in the Bayview for seven years, and claim not to know of the dangers Thuy Sen might fall prey to?'
'Don't know,' Chou repeated stubbornly.
James moved closer. 'So you don't know,' he asked with insinuating quiet, 'whether Thuy decided to visit with some young men, maybe listen to music.'
Mauriani experienced an emotion close to awe: James's miscalculation was attaining a grandeur all its own. The accountant, Henry Feldt, watched the lawyer with a grimness that betrayed his anger.
'Thuy not like that,' her mother insisted.
