She faced Rabbi Bloom at the defense table. “I’m so sorry, Neil, that this will hurt you, but you were adopted right after you were born and were never told about your birth parents.”
“Was there anything else?” the D.A. prompted. “Please address your answers to me and the jury, and not to your nephew.”
“Yes, there was an identical twin brother born together with Neil. They were separated at birth, without anyone ever telling either of them that they had a twin brother. Both were given up for adoption to different families when they were just a few days old.”
“Why did your brother and sister-in-law swear you to secrecy about this?”
“They were afraid if Neil knew the truth he would seek out his birth mother and leave his adoptive parents. Neil’s adoptive mother died of lung cancer when she was only forty-eight.”
“How well do you know your nephew, Neil Robert Bloom?”
“Very well. My family not only goes to all his services, but Neil also helps out in my tea shop almost every weekend,” replied Mrs. Anderson.
“I was under the impression that he goes golfing most weekends with three other friends.”
“He does, but as soon as he’s finished playing on most Sundays, he comes right over and helps me keep up with customers, who sometimes don’t appreciate waiting too long to be served.”
“Mrs. Anderson, since his father was your brother, you were intimately involved with his adoptive parents, correct?”
“Yes, but as far as Neil knows, they were his biological parents.”
“Have you ever met the adoptive parents of his twin brother?”
“No, I have not.”
“Why not?” inquired the D.A.
“Because his brother was adopted by another family, and those records were sealed by a Court Order. I had told my dearest friend at the time about the twins. She had worked for the court and was able to obtain information she thought would be helpful to me. She had learned the boy shared the same birth date, time of birth and hospital as my nephew, which confirmed to me that he must be Neil’s twin. She had done some of her own research and found the twin had an especially tough time in his early life. When he was about seven or eight years old, his adoptive parents died in a tragic auto accident. His adoptive parents had no next of kin willing to take the little boy. After that he became a ward of the state and went to different foster homes, none of which I was ever told about. The state could not legally release their names, nor the boy’s name. This friend of mine was not willing to give me his name or the names of the foster parents out of fear that she might have been discovered revealing the sealed documents. My friend died six years ago of a stroke.”
“Mrs. Anderson, have you ever noticed a birthmark on your nephew the Rabbi?”
“No, he has no birthmarks on his body, and I would know since I changed his diapers for a year and a half and then have spent a great deal of time with him from his early childhood years until today.”
“No further questions for Mrs. Anderson.”
The judge asked, “Does the defense wish to cross examine the witness?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” said Jaxson.
“Mrs. Anderson, how do you know that the Rabbi is not already aware that he is adopted and that he has a twin brother?” asked the defendant’s attorney.
“Because I am his closest relative next to my brother, his adoptive father, who is still alive but has dementia, and he has never mentioned it to me or any other family member.”
“How do you know that he hasn’t mentioned it to the three other men in his golf foursome?”
Lorraine answered, “I don’t, but I would think...”
The defense attorney quickly interrupted. “Objection, Your Honor, irrelevant. There was no question for her to answer about what she thinks.”
“Sustained. Mrs. Anderson, please do not continue with your response.”
“No further questions,” said Jaxson.
Straub glared at District Attorney Stanford with a look that said, get the picture, bitch?
“Do the people wish to redirect?”
“No, Your Honor,” said Stanford.
“Mrs. Anderson, you are excused from any further proceedings today. However, you may be called upon by either side in the future to give further testimony. Thank you for your cooperation,” said Judge Garnett.
“Does the state have any other witnesses?” asked the judge.
“We do, Your Honor. The people call Mrs. Carol Jacobson to the stand.”
Carol walked into the court and the clerk directed her to the witness stand, swore her in, and told her “You may be seated.”
D.A. Stanford asked, “May I approach the witness, Your Honor?”
“You may.”
“Mrs. Jacobson, is it true that you and Rabbi Bloom have been having an affair?” asked the D.A.
Fear of telling the truth and what effect it would have on her marriage to Jules was not as great as her fear of perjury should they already have proof of the answer. “Yes,” she replied quietly, “we have been having an affair.”
A loud gasp went through the courtroom from the gallery filled with mostly congregants of the synagogue.
“And how long have you been having sexual relations with Neil Bloom?”
“About a year and a half.”
The D.A. asked sarcastically, but with non-prurient intent, “Have you both been completely undressed when you had these sexual relations?”
“I would say almost always,” Carol replied, deeply embarrassed.
“Therefore, you must have seen your lover completely naked, isn’t that correct?” asked Stanford.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Have you ever noticed a birthmark on him?”
Carol’s facial expression was perplexed, as if thinking, What the hell is she talking about? “No, I have not. Why is that important?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Jacobson, but I don’t answer questions except those asked of me by His Honor. No further questions for this witness at this time.
“Does the defense wish to examine this witness?” asked the judge.
The jury chuckled at that question of this incredibly attractive woman. One male juror was
