“Have you heard from Christina at all about coming to testify? She hasn’t been to The Mamacita Club in the past week and she just called, but the line disconnected,” I say.
“No one’s heard from her, including her mom, who thinks she’s back to her old ways. We really don’t need her to convict Bess, though. Personally, I think she’s playing games and just doesn’t want to come to court,” says Dylan.
“I know. But I don’t want to be the last person to see her alive, too,” I say.
“I know, but let’s focus on getting this trial done. Then we can worry about that,” says Dylan.
There’s nothing more exciting about a trial than when a defendant takes the stand. Bess Sanchez walks with the deputy following close behind her towards the witness stand, where I was just two weeks ago when the trial started. The entire courtroom, packed with attorneys, two media journalists, and Dylan Mack, sounds like it’s humming. Mike Tanner looks at me with wide-open eyes like he’s not ready for this to happen. But I am. Bess is unshackled because the jury is not supposed to know she’s in custody. It’s all a myth. The jury has to expect that a woman who tried to kill her daughter is locked up.
Another one of these legal myths is how Bess gets to dress herself. She’s dressed in a short-sleeved maroon knit sweater. Her striped silk shirt pops out of her sweater near her neckline. A neat bow made of the same silk stripes sits tied around her neck. Her brown three-quarter-length skirt rests below her knees. What a joke. She looks like a schoolteacher. This disgrace of a woman gets to wear whatever she wants to try and make the jury like her and appear that she could have never hurt Laura.
It’s as much of a myth as her presumption of innocence. The jurors are supposed to presume she’s innocent at the start of the trial. But the reality is that she did something to wind up in the defendant’s chair. The more evidence the jurors hear at trial, that presumption slowly gets erased. It’s a BS lie that she’s innocent, but that’s where the presumption starts.
Bess makes her way past the jury box and steps up into the witness stand. “Please remain standing, Mrs. Sanchez, and raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God,” says the courtroom clerk.
“I do,” says Bess.
Of all the legal myths, this is the biggest one of all. I expect Bess Sanchez to lie her way through her entire testimony.
“Mr. Fox, you are free to examine your client,” says Judge Hoffman.
“Mrs. Sanchez, please tell the jury what happened on the night Laura went missing through the following day when you were notified about the crime,” says Fox.
I stand up, wanting to object to this question because it calls for a long narration. But Mike Tanner grabs onto my arm and pulls me back down into my chair.
“Hold on, let’s see what’s happening here,” whispers Tanner.
And then I remember something. It’s extremely rare to see a defense attorney ask such an open-ended question. It happens when either the attorney has no clue what he’s doing or he doesn’t want to suborn perjury. If a defense attorney knows the witness is about to lie, they ethically can’t participate in the questioning. So they’ll ask some open-ended question like Fox just did, then sit back and let the defendant rattle off her lies. It’s another legal myth, because the jury doesn’t know what’s going on. But the judge and the prosecutor know exactly what’s happening.
As if she rehearsed it in the mirror for the past four months while sitting in jail, Bess turns towards the jury and begins to tell them her BS story.
After the fifteen minute break Judge Hoffman gave us after we listened to Bess Sanchez’s ridiculous story of how she had nothing to do with assaulting Laura and that it was all Officer Cruz’s fault, the jury files back into the still packed courtroom and takes their seats.
“The People may now cross-examine the witness,” says Judge Hoffman.
“Ma’am, what do you do for a living?” I say, jumping up from my seat. It’s important for a prosecutor to stand up immediately and ask
something
. It could be anything and it should be a question no one cares about. It catches the witness off-guard, not knowing what to expect next. And it should be a question they will know the answer to. It’s just as important to jump around in topics when you’re cross-examining. It forces them to start thinking about when they need to lie or tell the truth. Designed to intimidate and confuse a witness, these are tactics I learned from one of Mike Tanner’s trainings on “Hostile Witnesses and How to Order Them to Answer.”
“I work with a cleaning service,” says Bess.
“Do you recall hearing testimony from the Custodian of Records from your phone company?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“So you’d agree that five calls were placed from your cell phone to Officer Cruz’s phone the day of the assault. Correct?” I ask.
“Yes, I heard that testimony,” Bess says.
“Yet, you want this jury to believe you had nothing to do with Officer Cruz?” I ask.
Bess stays quiet.
“Ma’am, did you hear my question?”
Bess doesn’t answer.
“I’m going to object. This question is argumentative,” says Fox.
“Overruled. Mrs. Sanchez, I’m ordering you to answer the question,” says Judge Hoffman.
“It’s not how it looks,” says Bess.
“Then maybe you can explain why your daughter says you were her “boss” and that you worked out deals with Clown to pimp her out, you allowed Javier to sleep with her, and you even rented her out to Officer Cruz.”
“I don’t know what you’re taking about” says Bess.
“Ma’am, you went to the motel room to hurt Laura so she would not be able to testify against Javier, didn’t you?” I ask.
“I didn’t go to that motel.”
“Are you certain you never went to that motel?”
“Absolutely. Officer Cruz did this. It’s his fingerprint on the vase, not mine,” says Bess.
This is the most damming evidence against our case and Bess and douchebag Fox haven’t missed an opportunity to remind us. So I change the subject.
“Do you smoke, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
“What brand of cigarettes?”
“Newports.”
“Regular or light?”
“Light.”
“Ma’am, your DNA was found on a cigarette outside the landing near room 333. You’re aware of that, aren’t you?”
“That’s what they said, but I wasn’t there.”
“Do you know what kind of cigarette was found?”
“No.”
“If that was a cigarette
you
were smoking, is it fair to say that you’d expect it to be a Newport Light?”
Bess stays quiet.
“Answer the question, ma’am,” says Judge Hoffman.
“Yes, I suppose.”
“Suppose? What are you supposing?”
“Objection, argumentative, relevance,” says Fox.
“Sustained. Move on, counsel,” says Judge Hoffman.
“Were you Laura’s boss?” I ask.
“Laura was prostituting. When I first found out, I wanted her to stop. Javier and I tried to help her.”
“So then at what point did you decide to join in and make a profit from it?” I ask rhetorically.
“Nevermind answering that,” say. “Where was Javier at the time you were trying to ‘help’ Laura on July sixth?”
“He was locked up. He couldn’t help me.”
“Did Laura upset you by coming forward about Javier’s sexual abuse?”
“That was a concern at the time, but that’s not why I did it.”
“That’s not why you did
what
?” I ask, loving it when defendants don’t think before they speak.
“This had nothing to do with Javier.”
“Ma’am, what is your waist size?”
“Ten.”
“And in belts?”
“The same, ten.”
“What waist size is Laura?”
“I think a two. The same in belt size.”
“Showing you People’s Exhibit number twenty, do you see this white belt with black stones on it in this clear plastic bag?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Whose belt is that?”
Bess stays quiet.
“Please answer the question,” says Judge Hoffman.
“I told the police it was mine,” says Bess.
“If it was yours, what size should it be?”
“Well, I’m a ten.”
“Do you know what size this belt is that I’m holding?”
Bess stays quiet.
“Ma’am, I’m going to order you to answer the question. If you don’t know the answer, please let us know. But you need to answer the question,” says Judge Hoffman.
“It’s my belt, so it’s probably a ten,” says Bess.
“Your Honor, may I publish the size of this belt?” I ask.
“Sure, and just for the record, what size is it?” asks Judge Hoffman.
“It’s a two,” I say, smiling at Hoffman.
“I guess if the belt doesn’t fit, you must convict,” I say, triggering laughter throughout the courtroom.
“Ms. Ruiz, please save your commentary for closing argument,” says Judge Hoffman.
“I apologize, Your Honor. Mrs. Sanchez, you tied Laura up with her own belt, didn’t you?”
Bess stays quiet and looks down.
“You ransacked the room and make it look like it was a random sex assault, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t.”
“I’m showing you what’s been marked as People’s Exhibit forty,” I say, putting a news article dated July seventh on the projection screen.
“Can you read the news heading for the jury, please?”
“
Girl’s body found in motel room
.”
“Now please read the second line of the article.”
“Objection, hearsay. The article speaks for itself,” says Fox.
“Overruled. Mrs. Sanchez, please read it.”
“
When she was found, ‘her hands were tied with a belt, her underwear was around her ankles, and the whole room was ransacked,’ said Bess Sanchez, the mother of the seventeen-year-old girl
.”
“Did you tell the reporter that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what happened.”
“When did you speak to the reporter?”
“In the late afternoon the day Laura was found.”
“Did you ever see the motel room?”
“No.”
“Then
who
told you the room had been ransacked,
her underwear was around her ankles,
and she was found tied with a belt?”
Bess stays quiet.
“Answer the question, ma’am,” says Judge Hoffman.
Bess looks down.
“You can’t answer that question because police never told you these things. You only knew those things because you did them.”
“I didn’t.”
“You were the one who tied her up.
“Stop.”
“You ransacked the room to make it look like a random assault.”
“That’s not true.”
“You tried to murder your daughter the morning she was supposed to testify against Javier.”
“I didn’t.”
“She wasn’t supposed to tell, was she? You tried to murder your daughter because she wanted out of your prostitution ring, isn’t that true?”
“Objection, argumentative,” says Fox.
“Overruled. Answer the question, ma’am,” says Judge Hoffman.
“I just wanted my problems to go away.”
“Did you ever tell Javier what you were going to do?”
“No, I didn’t tell him anything.”
“What nickname did Javier call you?” I ask.
“B-B.”
“What did you call him?”
“Javi.”
“Your Honor, at this time I would like to play a jail call of a conversation between this witness and Javier Sanchez.”
“Go ahead,” says Judge Hoffman.
I hit the play button on the recorder and hear a man’s voice.
“Hey B-B, it’s Javi,” says Javier.
“Hey Javi. I’m glad you called me. I can’t talk right now, but I’m gonna carry out that mission tomorrow morning. Don’t worry, I’ll get it done,” says Bess.
I stop the recorder.
“
Ma’am, is that your voice?”
“I don’t know,” says Bess.
“Would it refresh your memory to see a copy of the phone log showing the number Javier called?”
“No.”
“Your Honor, for the record, the call was made to the same number this witness testified was hers.”
“So noted,” says Judge Hoffman, smiling at me.
“Mrs. Sanchez, it is still your testimony that you never went to the motel room?”
“Yes.”
“I’m showing you a report from the Crime Lab that indicates the type of cigarette inspected, People’s Exhibit number nineteen. Have you seen that before?”