“Fairly tall, definitely taller than Captain Pintado. Kind of muscular, big shoulders. And he was black.”
“Would you recognize that man if you saw him again?” asked Jack.
“Yes, absolutely.”
Jack returned to his table, and Sofia handed him a photograph. Jack had the clerk mark it as a defense exhibit, handed copies to the prosecutor and to the judge, and then approached the witness. “Private Castillo, I have here a group photograph of U.S. Coast Guard officers stationed at Guantanamo and several other locations within the Coast Guard’s Seventh District. It was taken near the end of last year. I ask you to take a good look at the photograph and tell me this, please: Does the man you saw entering the residence of Captain Pintado on the seventeenth of June also appear in this photograph?”
Torres was on his feet. “I want to object, Judge. We’ve already heard testimony that the man is black. Handing the witness a photograph of mostly white officers and then asking him to pick out the black guy is a joke.”
Jack said, “Your Honor, there are fifty-two black men in this photograph. If the witness can pick out the man he saw from among the fifty-two pictured, that’s more reliable than most police lineups.”
“Overruled. The jury shall decide for itself what weight to attach to any identification, or misidentification, as the case may be.”
The witness seemed somewhat confused with all the translations, but then he focused. Jack said, “Sir, please examine the photograph and tell me if you see the man who entered the Pintado residence on the morning of June seventeenth.”
His gaze roamed back and forth, taking in row after row. Then it moved up and down, as if he were examining the many faces from another angle. The whole process was taking much longer than Jack had expected.
“Private Castillo?” the judge said. “Is the man in that photograph, or isn’t he?”
The translator put the question to him again, and he didn’t react. Jack didn’t show it, but he was beginning to sweat.
“Private Castillo?” the judge repeated.
“Do you see him?” said Jack.
The witness looked up from the photograph. “This is him.”
Jack stepped forward, saw where he was pointing. “Let the record reflect that the witness selected the man in the third row, fifth from the left. Lieutenant Damont Johnson.”
For an instant, the name seemed to take on a life of its own as members of the media scribbled it down simultaneously. Jack quietly breathed a sigh of relief. The witness had placed someone else at the scene of the crime near the time of the murder. Lindsey had reasonable doubt.
If the jury believed it.
The judge said, “Any further questions for this witness, Mr. Swyteck?”
Jack was tempted to end on the high note, but it would have been worse for the illicit sex to come out on cross-examination. Besides, he had a new angle on the so-called extramarital affair-the one that Lindsey had confided to Sofia, the one she’d been too embarrassed to share directly with Jack.
“One final line of questioning,” said Jack. “Private Castillo, did you happen to see Lieutenant Johnson at Captain Pintado’s house on any occasions other than the morning of June seventeenth?”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
“Many times.”
The next question stuck in Jack’s throat. Even though the prosecutor had already convinced the jury that Lindsey was a cheating spouse, graphic testimony from an eyewitness was bound to change the whole tenor of the trial. But Jack had to get through it.
If Sofia was right, this was their only way to explain what really went on in that bedroom.
“Sir, can you tell me who Lieutenant Johnson was with on those other occasions?”
“I saw him with Captain Pintado’s wife.”
A rumble worked its way through the crowd, and it seemed to crawl right up Jack’s spine like a big, fat, collective, What did he say?
“Where were they?”
“In the bedroom.”
The rumble turned to outright chatter. The judge banged his gavel. “Order!”
Jack couldn’t bring himself to look at the jury, but he could almost feel their scowls. “What…were they doing?”
God, please, he thought. Let him say anything but “Going at it like a couple of porn stars.”
“They were having sexual relations.”
Suddenly it was as if the courtroom were a cocktail party, and the host had walked in naked. It seemed that everyone was talking, some mortified and indignant, others giddy and excited by this new wrinkle in the case.
Again the judge gaveled them down to silence. “This courtroom will come to order!”
Jack waited for the noise to subside, then continued. He was having second thoughts about this new strategy they’d developed, but there was no turning back now. Sex was in the case, and Jack had to put the defense’s spin on it.
“Private Castillo, can you tell me if Lieutenant Johnson and Lindsey Hart were alone in the bedroom on those occasions you saw them together?”
“Objection,” said the prosecutor.
“On what grounds?” said the judge.
Torres struggled, and it was clear that he couldn’t quite put his finger on any strict legal theory. He just didn’t like the feel of things. Then he found something. “Judge, I believe the witness’s testimony should be limited to what he saw.”
“Can you rephrase your question, Mr. Swyteck?”
“Certainly. Private Castillo, did you see anyone in the bedroom other than Lieutenant Johnson and Lindsey Hart?”
“You mean while…”
“Yes,” said Jack, the clarification somewhat painful, “while they were engaged in sexual activity.”
The witness considered the question, then said, “No. I can’t say that I saw anyone else in the room.”
Jack glanced back toward Sofia. She had enough of a poker face not to show her disappointment, but her theory wasn’t playing out as they’d hoped. Jack took a few steps back, simply buying time, regrouping his thoughts. Then he took another shot. “Private Castillo, do you know what kind of vehicle Captain Pintado drove?”
“Yes. A red Chevy pickup, older model.”
“I want you to think hard now, all right? Did you happen to notice Captain Pintado’s pickup parked in the driveway on any of the occasions when you observed Lieutenant Johnson and the defendant in the bedroom together?”
“You mean while…”
“Yes,” said Jack, again dreading the clarification, “while they were having sex.”
The witness was silent for a moment, then the answer seemed to come to him. “Yes, it was there.”
Pay dirt! “One time? Two times?”
“No. Every time. Every time I can remember.”
Jack tried not to smile, but he was glowing on the inside. “Let me make sure I understand. Every time you observed the defendant having sex with Lieutenant Johnson in the Pintado bedroom, Captain Pintado’s vehicle was parked in the driveway. Is that your testimony?”
“Objection,” said the prosecutor. He finally seemed to realize that Jack was giving this love triangle some interesting new angles.
“Overruled,” said the judge. “The witness may answer.”
“Yes, that’s correct. I didn’t really think of it before. But now that you ask the question, I’m sure of it. I saw it. There were always two vehicles. Captain Pintado’s pickup and Lieutenant Johnson’s car.”
“Thank you. No further questions.” Jack returned to his seat.
“Mr. Torres, cross-examination?” said the judge.
“Oh, absolutely,” he said as he approached the witness. He stopped a few feet away from him, saying nothing, simply allowing the witness to feel the presence of the United States government. Then he turned his back on him,
