Court of Killers, page 26
In the gallery, he spotted Garrett raising his head.
“I feel strongly about those shelters,” Culpepper continued. “I should. They saved my only sister’s life. She couldn’t make herself quit this brute she was with. We were raised by a staunch conservative father who taught us that you stick with your husband, preserve the family—no matter what. And sticking to that credo almost killed her.”
Maybe he imagined it, but he thought he saw a flicker behind Garrett’s eyes.
“I got her to a shelter and that saved her life. I wanted to provide that same life-saving benefit to others. Mayor Pérez helped me create more facilities to make that happen. Eventually we had a split about the equal rights amendment, but until then, we got some good work done. I’d introduced Nick to Benji at some party. She got him on in their office, and eventually I heard he’d gone out with the mayor. If I’d had any notion, I would’ve warned her off.”
“Do you know anything about the time they spent together?”
She gave the jury a knowing look. “Only that Camila was a lot smarter than I was. She cut it off after one date.”
“And when you say she cut him off...”
“Well, I don’t mean she decided to shake-and-bake him to death. She’s a politician, for heaven’s sake. She’s much too savvy to attempt something that risky. Or pointless. And yes, she has a temper that flares on occasion, but there’s a huge difference between venting once in a while, which is healthy, and coldly calculating an incredibly cruel murder.”
“Objection,” Jazlyn said. “Non-responsive.”
The judge smiled. “The witness does appear to have wandered off-topic a bit. Please just answer the questions, miss.”
Culpepper raised an eyebrow. “Miss? I’ve been married four times.”
Judge Hayes clearly did not like being corrected. “You will not address the court directly. If you have comments to relay to the court, do it through counsel.”
“Would you say that if I were a man?”
At counsel table, Maria drew a slashing thumb across her throat. He hoped Culpepper got the message. This was not the time to call the judge on his chauvinism.
Judge Hayes drew himself up. “I do not permit disrespect to be shown to the court by anyone. Counsel, you need to have a talk with your witness. Or I will not permit her testimony.”
Before he could reply, Culpepper jumped in. “No need. I’ll be a good girl. Let’s get on with it.”
He hoped that would placate the judge. “There have been allegations that my client has a temper. Do you know anything about that?’”
“I know Camila chewed people out from time to time. So what? Men do that crap and they’re called strong and decisive. Women do it and they’re called strident and bitchy. That’s the world we live in.”
No one had objected, so he continued. “Are you suggesting these charges are sexist?”
“I know they are. No one in their right mind would believe the mayor of the city baked four men in an oven in a building she owned. Unless you characterize her as a crazy woman, because we all know how crazy women get, especially if there’s some hunky guy involved.” She shook her head. “I’m surprised no one has suggested she was having PMS.”
He could see Jazlyn wavering, but she remained seated. Maybe she was even considering what Culpepper said. “Could you describe your work with the mayor in more detail, please?”
“What I’m proudest of is the fourteen women’s shelters that didn’t exist before.”
“Has this initiative ended?”
“Not at all. A lot of what we started is still in progress. Problem was, our funds ran dry. That’s the key to the bakery acquisition.”
He saw the jurors sit up. Now she was talking about something that interested them. “How so?”
“Camila didn’t buy that place because she had a hankering to get into the pastry market. She planned to convert it to another women’s shelter. That’s why the demolition was scheduled. Didn’t have anything to do with bodies in the oven. She was building another shelter—this time using her own funds to do it. And—I hope you don’t mind my saying this, Camila—but she is not a rich woman. She’s given her life to public service, not private profit. Nonetheless, she put a huge sum of money, some of it borrowed, into that shelter. It would be the first in that part of town, and it was needed. That’s the kind of woman Camila Pérez is. All this talk about bakery and boyfriends is a sexist distraction. This is a person who genuinely cares about other people, who does more than just talk. She makes things happen. We need more like her. That’s why certain people in this community are so determined to bring her down.”
He knew he was never going to get a better finish than that. “Thank you. No more questions.”
Jazlyn rose, but once again, she took her time before questioning. “You’ve been a big supporter of women’s rights, correct?”
“You know it is.”
“And a strong advocate of women in politics.”
“And every other aspect of American life. I’ve been an advocate of equality. I want a nation where all people are treated equally and all people have equal rights, not just whatever subsidiary rights the men in power find it convenient to give us.”
“Do you think it’s possible that your... perspective has created some bias?”
“What kind of bias?”
“A tendency to sympathize with women. Regardless of the facts.”
“Well, I’m not feeling particularly sympathetic toward you at the moment.”
He saw Judge Hayes cover his mouth, eyes sparkling.
“Motion to strike,” Jazlyn said. “Ms. Culpepper, I think the truth is you give yourself a lot of credit for fighting for equality, but what you are actually advocating is a world in which women cannot be challenged.”
Culpepper leaned forward, pointing a finger. “Let me explain to you what I’ve been fighting for, Ms. Prentice. I was on the front line forty years ago, before you were born, during a time when not only were you not in the district attorney’s office, there were no women in the district attorney’s office. I’m the reason you exist.”
“We’re all aware of your efforts—”
“I’m not sure you are. We have all this talk these days about the MeToo movement and Time’sUp, but you know what? Time was up a long time ago. We all stand on the shoulders of those who came before us, and this movement only works because other pioneers fought for equal rights forty years ago. For that matter, there were strong women before my generation who fought hard and laid the foundation for my work.”
Jazlyn held up her hands. “We don’t need a history lesson.”
“I think maybe you do.”
“My point is that you are a biased witness, and you’re proving my point.”
“There is a difference between bias and gratitude.”
“Are you suggesting we should allow murderers to go free if they’ve done good work in the past?”
“No. I’m suggesting that calling our mayor a murderer is ludicrous, and I don’t think you’re so biased you can’t see that.”
He wasn’t even sure what was happening. This was more like a town hall debate than a cross-examination. But Culpepper seemed to be making her point and giving the jury something serious to think about, so he kept his mouth shut.
“I can assure you that I would not have brought these charges unless—”
“Except you didn’t make that decision, did you?”
Jazlyn was taken aback. “I filed the charges in—”
“But the decision to prosecute was made by your boss, right? Your white male boss? The district attorney?”
Jazlyn’s lips twitched, but she didn’t answer.
Culpepper continued. “And we have no idea who’s pulling his strings, do we?”
“I hardly think—”
“The democratically elected mayor is thrown in jail and who takes her place? A man. Who I saw outside the courtroom today giving a press conference, deploring this sad state of affairs, but basically drawing attention to himself. Gearing up for the next election. He’s not the only one monitoring this trial. Here’s your reality—someone up top wants this mayor put down before she becomes more powerful than she already is. And that’s the real reason we’re here today.”
Chapter 46
Gloria Culpepper’s testimony not only proved helpful, Dan realized, but perfectly set the stage for Camila to take the stand and speak for herself. Culpepper had all but canonized her, plus planted the idea that this prosecution was politically motivated. That had been Maria’s trial strategy from the start, but Culpepper had driven it home more effectively in two minutes than he had done during the entire preceding trial.
He could see that Camila was nervous. Who could blame her? Sure, she’d given a million interviews and speeches and press conferences, but this was the first time she sat before a handful of citizens pleading for her life. Urging them to accept her version of the events rather than the one they’d heard for so long.
He didn’t waste much time introducing her. Everyone already knew who she was. His plan was to keep this as short and focused as possible. Let her do what she needed to do and then get her off the stand as quickly as possible.
After the introductory questions, he took her to the night of the murders. “Were you on the premises on the day in question?”
“I was at the pedestrian mall,” Camila answered.
“Did you go to the bakery?”
“Yes, I stood outside the bakery for a time. I owned the place and I was preparing to raze it and erect a women’s shelter.”
Let’s get to the point. “Did you kill those men in the oven?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you know men were being killed inside the bakery?”
“No. I did not see or hear anything.”
“Do you know who killed them?”
“No. I cannot believe anyone I know could commit such a cruel act.”
“Were you having the building destroyed to destroy evidence of the crime?”
“No. I didn’t know the crime existed. I’ve dedicated my whole life to helping people. And that most certainly didn’t include burning them in an oven.”
Okay then. The jury had heard it from the lion’s mouth, so to speak. Time to dig into the details. “You did know Nick Mansfield though, correct?”
“Yes. He worked briefly in my office. After his work for us ended—and only after he was no longer my employee—we dated.”
“How long did that last?”
“One date. Not a great success, obviously.”
“What was the problem?”
She thought for a moment. “He was going through a rough patch. He’d lost his job at a bank. He had a drug addiction. And he was on the rebound.”
“From his relationship with Gloria Culpepper?”
“I assume. I never asked him. Didn’t feel it was any of my business. But he was definitely damaged. Which does not make for the best boyfriend, especially for someone in the public eye. I ended it before it became something toxic.”
“Did you threaten him?”
“No. Never.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Not that I recall. We both got on with our lives. Unfortunately, his ended prematurely. Gloria Culpeper was right about at least one thing—this is only an issue because I’m a woman. When a man in the public eye is seen stepping out with women, that’s cool and shows how macho and sexually attractive he is. But when a woman is seen with a man, she’s a trollop.”
He thought that was okay. Not too pushy, but definitely something to think about. This whole examination was about persuading the jury to rethink their presumptions. “What about Sean Callahan? The plumber?”
“That’s an entirely different situation. Contrary to what Mr. Esposito said, we never dated. No hand-holding, nothing. He may have heard Callahan asking me out to dinner. I declined.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew almost nothing about him, and what little I knew, I didn’t like. Why would I date him? Because he was somewhat handsome? That’s more sexual stereotyping based upon prejudice, not fact. When I turned him down, he became agitated and started spewing the racist filth Benji has already described. Was I supposed to take that lightly because I’m a woman? No man would. I told him what I thought in no uncertain terms. That’s what you heard in that video.”
“You said that he would be sorry.”
“And I meant it. The world has had enough of this racist and sexist—” She cut herself off, then looked at the jury with genuine embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I do have a mouth on me. I get that from my beloved father. He raised me to be a straight shooter, and I am. The days when it was ok to make racist jokes—while insisting that you’re not really racist—are over. Racist jokes are not acceptable. Racist slurs are not funny. Zero tolerance. That’s the way racism ends. I took steps to make sure Callahan never again worked in city government and I have no regrets. Actions have consequences in this world. When people agree that this kind of behavior is unacceptable, racism ends.”
Way beyond the scope of the question, but Jazlyn didn’t seem to mind. Jazlyn had been subdued ever since Gloria Culpepper testified. Was it possible she was having second thoughts about this prosecution?
“And then there is the third victim. Dr. Jonathan Primo.”
“A sloppy historian. An embarrassment to his university.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Benji explained this, and she knows more about it than I do. Benji got the records from Mr. Esposito’s partner, a man named Hendrick, and Primo got them from her, violating about a million ethical rules. Just to prove how sloppy Primo’s work was, he got the flow of money completely reversed. Thought he found money being received from Southside Imports when in fact it was funds going to Southside Imports, a short-term loan eventually repaid.”
“Did you...have a grudge against Primo?”
“Well, I didn’t love him to death.” She actually winked toward the jury. And it seemed to work. She was regaining some of her natural charisma, re-becoming the Camila Pérez people saw on their television screens. He could be wrong, but he thought she was winning them over. Maybe.
She continued. “But I wasn’t out to get him. And I certainly wouldn’t have killed him. The truth would have come out eventually, probably during the investigation filed by the district attorney’s office. His sloppy scholarship would have been exposed and I’d like to think he would’ve lost tenure and been kicked out of his university. There was no need for me to get my hands dirty.”
“We’ve heard testimony indicating that you were in a program for anger management. True?”
“Very true. Actually, I did it twice.”
“Why twice?”
“Because it didn’t entirely take the first time. I was too young. I will admit it—I have the stereotypical Latin temper—which is not true for all Latinx, but it is true for me. Got that from my father, too. Sometimes it gets the best of me. Not for long, but still. I needed to get that under control, so I attended a week-long retreat in Phoenix. Call it immersion therapy or whatever you want, but I think it has made me a calmer, better person.”
“And yet, we all witnessed what looked like an explosion of temper in that video.”
She raised a finger. “That’s where I disagree with you. That was not temper. That was me defending my people, my office, and myself. What is wrong with that? Would it have been better if I’d let the racist pig trample over me? If I’d cried instead of shouting? We need to redefine our gender-based expectations. If you had seen the entire video—the unedited video—you would agree with me.”
All good so far, and the jury appeared to be buying it. Keep moving... “Your chief of staff also said you’d been arrested.”
“That is true. But it was many years ago, when I was still a teenager. I was a handful.” She glanced at the jury. “Maybe some of you were as well.”
He caught a few smiles on juror faces.
“But this is no laughing matter. I got in a fight with my younger sister. Over a boy who probably cared nothing about either of us. She tripped on a curb, twisted her ankle. I grabbed for her but she fell hard on her right arm. Broke it. She was in a cast for three months. My parents were worried about my supposedly violent tendencies so they sent me to a hospital briefly, then to a live-in clinic to be examined. I think it was an overreaction, but I understand the need for parents to be careful. I have not been blessed with children yet—as many of you have—but I know I would love them with all my heart and would do anything to protect them. The doctors found nothing wrong with me and released me. The records of that and the arrest were sealed and subsequently expunged, but if they can be found, I have authorized my attorney to release them to the public. I want to be completely up front about this. No secrets.”
He marveled at how well she explained even the most problematic details. He could only imagine how far that could take her—if this trial didn’t end her career in one hideous fell swoop. “Do you have any idea who the fourth man in the oven was?”
“No. How could I?
“It does seem coincidental that you knew three of the victims.”
“Why? I am the mayor. I have shaken half the hands in this city. I hope I have shaken them all before my term ends. I get around and I meet people. That is part of my job. Sadly, in today’s world, that makes you a target.” She twisted around so she could face the jury. “You’ve seen what they’re saying about me on the internet?”
No one nodded, but there were some guarded smiles.
She pointed a finger at the jurors. “I know you cannot admit it, but you have. Why wouldn’t you? You must be curious. You want to know what is really going on. Well, let me tell you something. While this hateful slander has increased since the murder charges were filed—it has been a part of my life since I entered the political forum.”
“How have you dealt with it?”
“Not with anger, not most of the time. With patience, as much as humanly possible. This is what it is to be a public figure in today’s world, where no one has privacy, and politicians have even less, and people can post lies on the internet to such an extent that the truth barely matters any more. One man calls me names. Another makes false accusations about campaign funds. This is my daily life. Barely enough to capture my attention. Certainly not enough to inspire me to do something so stupid as murdering four men in such a contrived and gruesome manner.”
“I feel strongly about those shelters,” Culpepper continued. “I should. They saved my only sister’s life. She couldn’t make herself quit this brute she was with. We were raised by a staunch conservative father who taught us that you stick with your husband, preserve the family—no matter what. And sticking to that credo almost killed her.”
Maybe he imagined it, but he thought he saw a flicker behind Garrett’s eyes.
“I got her to a shelter and that saved her life. I wanted to provide that same life-saving benefit to others. Mayor Pérez helped me create more facilities to make that happen. Eventually we had a split about the equal rights amendment, but until then, we got some good work done. I’d introduced Nick to Benji at some party. She got him on in their office, and eventually I heard he’d gone out with the mayor. If I’d had any notion, I would’ve warned her off.”
“Do you know anything about the time they spent together?”
She gave the jury a knowing look. “Only that Camila was a lot smarter than I was. She cut it off after one date.”
“And when you say she cut him off...”
“Well, I don’t mean she decided to shake-and-bake him to death. She’s a politician, for heaven’s sake. She’s much too savvy to attempt something that risky. Or pointless. And yes, she has a temper that flares on occasion, but there’s a huge difference between venting once in a while, which is healthy, and coldly calculating an incredibly cruel murder.”
“Objection,” Jazlyn said. “Non-responsive.”
The judge smiled. “The witness does appear to have wandered off-topic a bit. Please just answer the questions, miss.”
Culpepper raised an eyebrow. “Miss? I’ve been married four times.”
Judge Hayes clearly did not like being corrected. “You will not address the court directly. If you have comments to relay to the court, do it through counsel.”
“Would you say that if I were a man?”
At counsel table, Maria drew a slashing thumb across her throat. He hoped Culpepper got the message. This was not the time to call the judge on his chauvinism.
Judge Hayes drew himself up. “I do not permit disrespect to be shown to the court by anyone. Counsel, you need to have a talk with your witness. Or I will not permit her testimony.”
Before he could reply, Culpepper jumped in. “No need. I’ll be a good girl. Let’s get on with it.”
He hoped that would placate the judge. “There have been allegations that my client has a temper. Do you know anything about that?’”
“I know Camila chewed people out from time to time. So what? Men do that crap and they’re called strong and decisive. Women do it and they’re called strident and bitchy. That’s the world we live in.”
No one had objected, so he continued. “Are you suggesting these charges are sexist?”
“I know they are. No one in their right mind would believe the mayor of the city baked four men in an oven in a building she owned. Unless you characterize her as a crazy woman, because we all know how crazy women get, especially if there’s some hunky guy involved.” She shook her head. “I’m surprised no one has suggested she was having PMS.”
He could see Jazlyn wavering, but she remained seated. Maybe she was even considering what Culpepper said. “Could you describe your work with the mayor in more detail, please?”
“What I’m proudest of is the fourteen women’s shelters that didn’t exist before.”
“Has this initiative ended?”
“Not at all. A lot of what we started is still in progress. Problem was, our funds ran dry. That’s the key to the bakery acquisition.”
He saw the jurors sit up. Now she was talking about something that interested them. “How so?”
“Camila didn’t buy that place because she had a hankering to get into the pastry market. She planned to convert it to another women’s shelter. That’s why the demolition was scheduled. Didn’t have anything to do with bodies in the oven. She was building another shelter—this time using her own funds to do it. And—I hope you don’t mind my saying this, Camila—but she is not a rich woman. She’s given her life to public service, not private profit. Nonetheless, she put a huge sum of money, some of it borrowed, into that shelter. It would be the first in that part of town, and it was needed. That’s the kind of woman Camila Pérez is. All this talk about bakery and boyfriends is a sexist distraction. This is a person who genuinely cares about other people, who does more than just talk. She makes things happen. We need more like her. That’s why certain people in this community are so determined to bring her down.”
He knew he was never going to get a better finish than that. “Thank you. No more questions.”
Jazlyn rose, but once again, she took her time before questioning. “You’ve been a big supporter of women’s rights, correct?”
“You know it is.”
“And a strong advocate of women in politics.”
“And every other aspect of American life. I’ve been an advocate of equality. I want a nation where all people are treated equally and all people have equal rights, not just whatever subsidiary rights the men in power find it convenient to give us.”
“Do you think it’s possible that your... perspective has created some bias?”
“What kind of bias?”
“A tendency to sympathize with women. Regardless of the facts.”
“Well, I’m not feeling particularly sympathetic toward you at the moment.”
He saw Judge Hayes cover his mouth, eyes sparkling.
“Motion to strike,” Jazlyn said. “Ms. Culpepper, I think the truth is you give yourself a lot of credit for fighting for equality, but what you are actually advocating is a world in which women cannot be challenged.”
Culpepper leaned forward, pointing a finger. “Let me explain to you what I’ve been fighting for, Ms. Prentice. I was on the front line forty years ago, before you were born, during a time when not only were you not in the district attorney’s office, there were no women in the district attorney’s office. I’m the reason you exist.”
“We’re all aware of your efforts—”
“I’m not sure you are. We have all this talk these days about the MeToo movement and Time’sUp, but you know what? Time was up a long time ago. We all stand on the shoulders of those who came before us, and this movement only works because other pioneers fought for equal rights forty years ago. For that matter, there were strong women before my generation who fought hard and laid the foundation for my work.”
Jazlyn held up her hands. “We don’t need a history lesson.”
“I think maybe you do.”
“My point is that you are a biased witness, and you’re proving my point.”
“There is a difference between bias and gratitude.”
“Are you suggesting we should allow murderers to go free if they’ve done good work in the past?”
“No. I’m suggesting that calling our mayor a murderer is ludicrous, and I don’t think you’re so biased you can’t see that.”
He wasn’t even sure what was happening. This was more like a town hall debate than a cross-examination. But Culpepper seemed to be making her point and giving the jury something serious to think about, so he kept his mouth shut.
“I can assure you that I would not have brought these charges unless—”
“Except you didn’t make that decision, did you?”
Jazlyn was taken aback. “I filed the charges in—”
“But the decision to prosecute was made by your boss, right? Your white male boss? The district attorney?”
Jazlyn’s lips twitched, but she didn’t answer.
Culpepper continued. “And we have no idea who’s pulling his strings, do we?”
“I hardly think—”
“The democratically elected mayor is thrown in jail and who takes her place? A man. Who I saw outside the courtroom today giving a press conference, deploring this sad state of affairs, but basically drawing attention to himself. Gearing up for the next election. He’s not the only one monitoring this trial. Here’s your reality—someone up top wants this mayor put down before she becomes more powerful than she already is. And that’s the real reason we’re here today.”
Chapter 46
Gloria Culpepper’s testimony not only proved helpful, Dan realized, but perfectly set the stage for Camila to take the stand and speak for herself. Culpepper had all but canonized her, plus planted the idea that this prosecution was politically motivated. That had been Maria’s trial strategy from the start, but Culpepper had driven it home more effectively in two minutes than he had done during the entire preceding trial.
He could see that Camila was nervous. Who could blame her? Sure, she’d given a million interviews and speeches and press conferences, but this was the first time she sat before a handful of citizens pleading for her life. Urging them to accept her version of the events rather than the one they’d heard for so long.
He didn’t waste much time introducing her. Everyone already knew who she was. His plan was to keep this as short and focused as possible. Let her do what she needed to do and then get her off the stand as quickly as possible.
After the introductory questions, he took her to the night of the murders. “Were you on the premises on the day in question?”
“I was at the pedestrian mall,” Camila answered.
“Did you go to the bakery?”
“Yes, I stood outside the bakery for a time. I owned the place and I was preparing to raze it and erect a women’s shelter.”
Let’s get to the point. “Did you kill those men in the oven?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you know men were being killed inside the bakery?”
“No. I did not see or hear anything.”
“Do you know who killed them?”
“No. I cannot believe anyone I know could commit such a cruel act.”
“Were you having the building destroyed to destroy evidence of the crime?”
“No. I didn’t know the crime existed. I’ve dedicated my whole life to helping people. And that most certainly didn’t include burning them in an oven.”
Okay then. The jury had heard it from the lion’s mouth, so to speak. Time to dig into the details. “You did know Nick Mansfield though, correct?”
“Yes. He worked briefly in my office. After his work for us ended—and only after he was no longer my employee—we dated.”
“How long did that last?”
“One date. Not a great success, obviously.”
“What was the problem?”
She thought for a moment. “He was going through a rough patch. He’d lost his job at a bank. He had a drug addiction. And he was on the rebound.”
“From his relationship with Gloria Culpepper?”
“I assume. I never asked him. Didn’t feel it was any of my business. But he was definitely damaged. Which does not make for the best boyfriend, especially for someone in the public eye. I ended it before it became something toxic.”
“Did you threaten him?”
“No. Never.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Not that I recall. We both got on with our lives. Unfortunately, his ended prematurely. Gloria Culpeper was right about at least one thing—this is only an issue because I’m a woman. When a man in the public eye is seen stepping out with women, that’s cool and shows how macho and sexually attractive he is. But when a woman is seen with a man, she’s a trollop.”
He thought that was okay. Not too pushy, but definitely something to think about. This whole examination was about persuading the jury to rethink their presumptions. “What about Sean Callahan? The plumber?”
“That’s an entirely different situation. Contrary to what Mr. Esposito said, we never dated. No hand-holding, nothing. He may have heard Callahan asking me out to dinner. I declined.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew almost nothing about him, and what little I knew, I didn’t like. Why would I date him? Because he was somewhat handsome? That’s more sexual stereotyping based upon prejudice, not fact. When I turned him down, he became agitated and started spewing the racist filth Benji has already described. Was I supposed to take that lightly because I’m a woman? No man would. I told him what I thought in no uncertain terms. That’s what you heard in that video.”
“You said that he would be sorry.”
“And I meant it. The world has had enough of this racist and sexist—” She cut herself off, then looked at the jury with genuine embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I do have a mouth on me. I get that from my beloved father. He raised me to be a straight shooter, and I am. The days when it was ok to make racist jokes—while insisting that you’re not really racist—are over. Racist jokes are not acceptable. Racist slurs are not funny. Zero tolerance. That’s the way racism ends. I took steps to make sure Callahan never again worked in city government and I have no regrets. Actions have consequences in this world. When people agree that this kind of behavior is unacceptable, racism ends.”
Way beyond the scope of the question, but Jazlyn didn’t seem to mind. Jazlyn had been subdued ever since Gloria Culpepper testified. Was it possible she was having second thoughts about this prosecution?
“And then there is the third victim. Dr. Jonathan Primo.”
“A sloppy historian. An embarrassment to his university.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Benji explained this, and she knows more about it than I do. Benji got the records from Mr. Esposito’s partner, a man named Hendrick, and Primo got them from her, violating about a million ethical rules. Just to prove how sloppy Primo’s work was, he got the flow of money completely reversed. Thought he found money being received from Southside Imports when in fact it was funds going to Southside Imports, a short-term loan eventually repaid.”
“Did you...have a grudge against Primo?”
“Well, I didn’t love him to death.” She actually winked toward the jury. And it seemed to work. She was regaining some of her natural charisma, re-becoming the Camila Pérez people saw on their television screens. He could be wrong, but he thought she was winning them over. Maybe.
She continued. “But I wasn’t out to get him. And I certainly wouldn’t have killed him. The truth would have come out eventually, probably during the investigation filed by the district attorney’s office. His sloppy scholarship would have been exposed and I’d like to think he would’ve lost tenure and been kicked out of his university. There was no need for me to get my hands dirty.”
“We’ve heard testimony indicating that you were in a program for anger management. True?”
“Very true. Actually, I did it twice.”
“Why twice?”
“Because it didn’t entirely take the first time. I was too young. I will admit it—I have the stereotypical Latin temper—which is not true for all Latinx, but it is true for me. Got that from my father, too. Sometimes it gets the best of me. Not for long, but still. I needed to get that under control, so I attended a week-long retreat in Phoenix. Call it immersion therapy or whatever you want, but I think it has made me a calmer, better person.”
“And yet, we all witnessed what looked like an explosion of temper in that video.”
She raised a finger. “That’s where I disagree with you. That was not temper. That was me defending my people, my office, and myself. What is wrong with that? Would it have been better if I’d let the racist pig trample over me? If I’d cried instead of shouting? We need to redefine our gender-based expectations. If you had seen the entire video—the unedited video—you would agree with me.”
All good so far, and the jury appeared to be buying it. Keep moving... “Your chief of staff also said you’d been arrested.”
“That is true. But it was many years ago, when I was still a teenager. I was a handful.” She glanced at the jury. “Maybe some of you were as well.”
He caught a few smiles on juror faces.
“But this is no laughing matter. I got in a fight with my younger sister. Over a boy who probably cared nothing about either of us. She tripped on a curb, twisted her ankle. I grabbed for her but she fell hard on her right arm. Broke it. She was in a cast for three months. My parents were worried about my supposedly violent tendencies so they sent me to a hospital briefly, then to a live-in clinic to be examined. I think it was an overreaction, but I understand the need for parents to be careful. I have not been blessed with children yet—as many of you have—but I know I would love them with all my heart and would do anything to protect them. The doctors found nothing wrong with me and released me. The records of that and the arrest were sealed and subsequently expunged, but if they can be found, I have authorized my attorney to release them to the public. I want to be completely up front about this. No secrets.”
He marveled at how well she explained even the most problematic details. He could only imagine how far that could take her—if this trial didn’t end her career in one hideous fell swoop. “Do you have any idea who the fourth man in the oven was?”
“No. How could I?
“It does seem coincidental that you knew three of the victims.”
“Why? I am the mayor. I have shaken half the hands in this city. I hope I have shaken them all before my term ends. I get around and I meet people. That is part of my job. Sadly, in today’s world, that makes you a target.” She twisted around so she could face the jury. “You’ve seen what they’re saying about me on the internet?”
No one nodded, but there were some guarded smiles.
She pointed a finger at the jurors. “I know you cannot admit it, but you have. Why wouldn’t you? You must be curious. You want to know what is really going on. Well, let me tell you something. While this hateful slander has increased since the murder charges were filed—it has been a part of my life since I entered the political forum.”
“How have you dealt with it?”
“Not with anger, not most of the time. With patience, as much as humanly possible. This is what it is to be a public figure in today’s world, where no one has privacy, and politicians have even less, and people can post lies on the internet to such an extent that the truth barely matters any more. One man calls me names. Another makes false accusations about campaign funds. This is my daily life. Barely enough to capture my attention. Certainly not enough to inspire me to do something so stupid as murdering four men in such a contrived and gruesome manner.”
