The Victim (24 page)

“
Sorry.”

“
It’s okay, Daniella,” Sylvia assured. “Just make sure you speak loudly, difficult as this situation must be for you. The court reporter, seated all the way over here,” she pointed, “has to take down every word you say.”

“
Okay.”

Sylvia walked her through the rote preliminary questions. Anton jotted down her answers, not knowing what was true and what was a lie. He knew the bulk of her testimony would be perjurious.

Satisfied that she’d established who Daniella was and her relationship to Bryan Avery, she paused, steepled her fingers, and stepped away from the podium.

“
Daniella, can you tell the court about the events that led us here today?”

Daniella pulled a wad of tissue from her purse and dabbed each eye. How she could cry on command, how she could position her body to appear meek. Every detail meticulously planned and carried out with perfection. From the way she hesitantly set her jaw to the folding of her hands in her lap. With no jury present, Anton could go on the attack. But with a jury he would have to be delicate, almost validating her lies while at the same time looking for holes in her testimony.

Unless, of course, he simply came clean.

He cast the idea from his mind, resumed taking notes on her testimony.

“
Sure,” she said, her voice muffled from speaking too closely to the microphone. “I sent Bryan a text asking him if he wanted to go meet for a drink. We had recently separated and I dunno, um, I guess I just wanted to see if there was a chance. I mean, um, he’s my husband.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You want it to work, right?”

“
And do you see the defendant, Bryan Avery, in court today?”

“
Yes I do.”

“
Can you please point to him and identify him by a piece of his clothing.”

She turned toward the jury box and extended her left hand. “He’s the man seated over there. He’s got a beard and he’s wearing an orange outfit, like a jail outfit.”

“
Let the record reflect that the witness has identified the defendant.”

Judge Morales nodded. “The record will so reflect. Please continue, Ms. Kaplan.”

Sylvia took her through the events of the night. Her questions were short and to the point, not at all meant to highlight seemingly irrelevant details. Those would come out during trial. Sylvia knew how to win in front of Morales. She had the sympathetic victim. Now she just needed to nail down the elements of the crimes.

“
Daniella, what happened after you and the defendant got off the elevator once you were back at the Templeton?”

A flood of tears filled Daniella’s eyes, pouring down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the tissues clutched in her hand. “He walked me to the door. I thought that was it. I say goodnight and he leans in to kiss me. I kinda lean back and hold up my hand, you know, like putting the brakes on. He grabbed my arms and tried to pull me in. I pushed him away. I grabbed my keys from my purse and was able to get the key in the lock. He was still all hands, trying to kiss me. He wasn’t acting right.”

Probably because you drugged him
, Anton wanted to say.

Sylvia nodded solemnly, her eyes narrowed with concern. “What happened next?”

She sniffled. “I open the door just enough to squeeze in.”

“
Why did you do that?”

“’
Cause I thought if I opened the door too wide he would just come right in. I was trying to make it pretty clear that I didn’t want him to come in.”

“
But he didn’t get that message, did he?”

Anton half-stood, bracing his palms on the edge of the defense table. “Objection. The prosecutor’s testifying, Your Honor.”

“
Sustained.”

Sylvia rolled her eyes. “I’ll rephrase. Did the defendant make an attempt to come into your apartment without your consent?”

“
Yes.”

“
What happened?”

Daniella reiterated, nearly word for word, the same story she had given when she first came into Anton’s office.

“
Was the defendant invited into your apartment?”

“
No.”

“
At no time did you give him permission to come in?”

“
Of course not.”

Sylvia took an exaggerated breath, playing it up for Judge Morales. Anton could tell by the look on Morales’s face that Sylvia’s theatrics weren’t necessary. Morales was ready to forgo the trial and sentence Bryan to life on the spot.

“
Daniella…what happened after you entered your apartment?”

Her lips quivered as she forced out her words amid the tears coursing down her cheeks.

“
He…he barged in, like hurling his body into the door. Knocked me back. He undoes his belt…and then he…” She demonstrated with her hands. “He loops the belt through the buckle and makes…well, it’s like a noose. And he grabs me by the shoulder with one hand and puts the belt around my neck with the other.” She sniffled, blotted her eyes with the tissue. “And he tugs it so hard I fall to the kitchen floor. I’m on my knees.”

“
Could you breathe?”

“
No.”

Sylvia glared at Bryan, hate burning in her eyes. “And did the defendant say anything to you while he was strangling you with his belt?”

Daniella took a moment to gain composure. Judge Morales nodded to Diego, who brought her a paper cup full of water. She sipped the water and mumbled a “thanks.”

“
He said that I was nothing. He said that he wouldn’t let me live without him. He said that he’d rather see me dead than living on my own without him.”

Sylvia stepped away from the podium and retrieved her stack of 8x11 photos and had them pre-marked by the clerk.

“
May I approach, Your Honor?”

“
You may.”

“
Showing defense counsel state’s 1-A, Your Honor.” Sylvia showed Anton the photos as was customary. Anton flipped through the prints. They were nothing he hadn’t already seen. Anton nodded that he’d been given the chance to inspect the exhibit. Sylvia stepped over to the witness stand, laying the photos on the table in front of her in a spread. “Daniella, I’m showing you a composite of photographs that’s been pre-marked as state’s 1-A for identification purposes. Do you recognize these photos?”

She studied them with her hand over her open mouth. “Yes I do.”

“
What do these photographs depict?”

“
The injuries to my neck.”

“
When were these injuries present on your neck?”

“
The night that Bryan was arrested.”

“
Were these the injuries that the defendant caused on the night he was arrested?”

“
Yes.”

“
Do these photographs fairly and accurately depict your injuries as they were on the night these photos were taken?”

“
Yes.”

Sylvia gathered up the photos and assembled them into a neat stack. She handed them to the clerk. “Your Honor, state moves 1-A into evidence.”

Judge Morales looked at Anton. “Any objection, Mr. Mackey?”

Morally the answer was yes but legally the answer was no. Sylvia had laid the proper predicate for their admission.

“
No objection, Your Honor.”

“
So moved. State’s 1-A will become state’s exhibit 1.”

Sylvia retrieved the photos from the clerk after she wrote the designation on the small evidence card, stapled to the back of one of the photos.

“
Permission to publish to the court?”

“
Granted.”

Sylvia handed the photos to Judge Morales. She adjusted her glasses and thoroughly studied each one. Anton wondered if she realized she was wincing and shaking her head in disgust.

Sylvia knelt down and fished through some items stashed inside the podium. She pulled out a small CD player and plugged it into an outlet panel in the floor.

She handed the 911 CD to the clerk to be pre-marked and held it up for Anton to see. She approached Daniella and laid the required foundation for the admission of the 911 tape. Without objection, Judge Morales permitted Sylvia to play it. Sylvia inserted the CD and pressed
play
. There was a crackling silence before the recording began.

The terror in her voice filled the courtroom. Judge Morales sat with her mouth agape, her eyes wide with disbelief. Daniella listened to herself from the witness stand, nervously pulling and twisting the fabric of her skirt, making obvious attempts to keep from losing it.

Even knowing that the tape was all an act, Anton still felt goose pimples popping on his arms.

What would a jury think?

He tried to contain his guilt. Bryan was seated in full restraints only feet away, looking at life in prison for something that he hadn’t done.

Daniella lost it. Tears rolled down her cheeks like raindrops on a window, falling onto her sweater. Her mouth opened without sound, like a child trying to register pain. Snot bubbled from her nose. She buried her face in her folded arms, shrieking, her back and shoulders shuddering.

Sylvia stopped the tape, exchanging a glance with Judge Morales.

“
Ms. Avery,” Judge Morales said in that preschool tone Sylvia had used earlier. “Do you need to take a break?”

Daniella looked up from her folded arms, her eyes wet and veined red. She forced out the word through her hyperventilation to whisper, “Yes.”

“
Diego,” Judge Morales instructed, “please take Ms. Avery outside and show her to the ladies’ room. We’ll be in recess for five minutes.”

Diego carefully assisted Daniella off the witness stand, gently cupping her elbow and escorting her out of the courtroom. She moved in delicate steps, reaching with her free hand to brace herself on the railing, trying to control her rapid wheezing breaths.

Judge Morales stepped off the bench and disappeared through the door that led to her chambers. Sylvia cast a stare at Anton, the slick defense attorney who was representing that piece of shit.

“
What the fuck?” Bryan shouted in a whisper. He motioned to Anton with his head. “What the fuck was that? She’s gonna crucify me.”

Anton leaned over the rail into the jury box. “Just relax, okay? I haven’t gotten a chance to cross her yet. I’ll trip her up, test her on her details.”

“
Be aggressive, man.” The panic in Bryan’s voice had caused it to rise an octave. “You saw the look on that judge’s face. She’s ready to hang me.”

Anton felt his phone vibrating on his belt. He stepped away from his client, turning his body to shield the touchscreen from view. It was a text message.

From Daniella.

You can stop this at anytime.

CHAPTER 26

The witness had regained composure. She sipped from the paper cup of water the bailiff had poured for her, taking deep, therapeutic breaths.

Judge Morales turned to Anton. “Any cross, Mr. Mackey?”

She looked at him, approaching the podium, gripping the edges until his knuckles turned white. She took another sip from her water cup, trying to conceal the smile that was spreading across her lips.

“
Ms. Avery,
you
invited Bryan out for drinks, right?”

She set her cup down and folded her hands on the table. “Yes, I did.”