Hostile Witness

by Rebecca Forster

  “How about abandonment, Mrs. Rayburn?” Josie asked clearly. “Would you consider abandonment a crime?”

  “I imagine it would depend on whom one was abandoning,” Linda answered carefully.

  Pushing away, Josie pulled another sheet of paper out of the envelope. She walked a half circle in front of the witness stand.

  “Your daughter, Hannah, for instance.” Josie looked up from her papers. She inclined her head like a relative concerned for Linda’s health. “Would you consider it a crime to abandon a nine year old girl for, say, three days?”

  Linda blanched. She turned her head toward the bench. There was no help from the judge. The jury strained to see, but could not. Linda offered her profile to Josie. Her expression was one of pure, controlled hatred. Josie let the question hang, and it was Rudy who broke the silence. His timing was off; his objection lacked the right level of passion to be effective.

  “Assumes facts not in evidence.”

  “Sustained,” Norris directed solemnly.

  Josie held a sheet of paper toward the bench. The judge took it, looked at it and handed it to the clerk.

  “Your Honor,” she said. “I would like to submit a report from the Chicago Police Department as defense exhibit twenty-two. Mrs. Rayburn, were you arrested in July of 1994 for abandoning your daughter in a hotel room in downtown Chicago?”

  Linda was still as a statue, pale as a ghost.

  “Mrs. Rayburn,” Josie demanded, “did you pay a fine and did you serve four months in jail beginning in July of 1994 because you were convicted of abandoning your daughter, Hannah Sheraton, and endangering her life by leaving her with no money, food or supervision?”

  Slowly Linda swung her head back to Josie. The two women stared at one another.

  “Yes,” Linda said evenly. “All that is true.”

  “And where had you been, Mrs. Rayburn?”

  “I was. . .” Linda hesitated. A lie was in the making. Josie could see it.

  “What, Mrs. Rayburn?” Josie pressed, moving one step closer, daring Linda to tell it. “What could possibly have kept you from returning to your daughter? It must have been something dire. An emergency? A matter of life and death? What was it, Mrs. Rayburn, that kept you from this daughter you loved so much?”

  “I had been with a friend and lost track . . .”

  Linda hung her head. If it had been anyone else, if it had been any other circumstance, Josie would have backed off. But this was Hannah’s life that hung in the balance and the woman who held the key to exoneration had never once told the whole truth in her life.

  “Lost track of what, Mrs. Rayburn? Time? You actually forgot about your nine year old daughter because you were. . .”

  “I was partying,” Linda growled defiantly. Her shoulders were squared. She raised her voice and threw her head back. She would not be cowed by this proceeding or shamed by Josie. Josie, whom she hated for making Hannah believe in fairytales. “I partied a lot back then. I’m not proud of it. I was very young when I had Hannah, and it took me a long time to grow up. In some ways she grew up faster than I did. Are you satisfied?”

  “I simply want to be clear, Mrs. Rayburn. You lived with a variety of men. At one time you abandoned your daughter and were arrested for endangering. . . .”

  “Your Honor, Mrs. Rayburn’s past is her past. She is not on trial here.”

  “Ms. Bates, enough. Move on with this witness.”

  Norris was peeved, Rudy confused, and Linda raging, but Josie was going to do this by the numbers because the only people that counted were in the jury box.

  “Your Honor, Mrs. Rayburn’s past behavior goes to establishing a pattern regarding how Mrs. Rayburn’s parenting habits affected the defendant’s attempt to control her environment,” Josie argued.

  “Then make it clear where you’re going, Ms. Bates, or drop this line of questioning.”

  “Thank you, Judge.” Josie discarded the manila envelope and went back to Linda. “Let’s talk about Hannah growing up. Did she ever complain about your lifestyle? Moving often, changing schools?”

  “No. She never did,” Linda replied.

  “Did you ever ask her if she minded moving?”

  “The subject never came up. Hannah was a good girl. She is still a good girl.”

  “Did Hannah exhibit any displeasure or anxiety over the way you were living?”

  “You mean like give me trouble? Run away? Things like that?”

  ”Yes, exactly,” Josie answered.

  Linda shook her head, and the pearl earrings looked too heavy now.

  “No. She never did anything to cause trouble. She always came right home from school. Always did things around the house. She was hardly ever gone.”

  “Would you say she seemed obsessed with being home? Or at least obsessed with being in a place that was familiar because of your frequent moves?”

  Linda hesitated, “She stayed very close to home. She sometimes became insistent that I stay close to home.”

  “Was it about the time of your abandonment that Hannah started exhibiting the symptoms of her obsessive/compulsive disorder?”

  “Yes,” Linda answered quietly. “She started counting then.”

  “Did she do anything else?”

  “She began to touch things, especially in the house. Doorways. Windows.”

  ”Hannah was particularly attentive to ways to get out of whatever place you were living in, is that correct?” Josie asked.

  “Yes,” Linda answered.

  “And was it about that time that Hannah started checking on other things.”

  “Yes,” Linda answered, clearly relieved that the spotlight had turned to Hannah. “She would often check the locks on the doors before she went to sleep. Sometimes she would check on toys, or clothes in the closet.”

  “Would she follow the same path every night?”

  “Yes.”

  “No matter where you were living?”

  “It didn’t matter if we were in a hotel room.”

  “Would it ever change?”

  “Only in terms of how long it took her,” Linda said, cooperating, anxious to have this done. “It all depended on how big the house or apartment was.”

  “And where was the last place Hannah checked every night before she could sleep?”

  “I don’t know what you mean? I mean the last place she checked was the last place,” Linda said, exasperated.

  “Isn’t it true, Mrs. Rayburn, that the last place Hannah checks every night is wherever you are sleeping? Isn’t it true that Hannah cannot go to sleep unless she is sure that you are in bed and asleep first?”

  Josie walked slowly toward her. Linda’s worst nightmare was unfolding under the glaring lights of the court. Josie could feel people investing in it, understanding it, waiting for Josie to ask that final question that would change the course of this trial barely moments after the defense had begun its case.

  “Isn’t it true, Mrs. Rayburn, that Hannah would look into your room four, five, sometimes six times a night to make sure you were there? To make sure that she hadn’t been abandoned once again?”

  Josie was one step closer to Linda then two. With the third she stopped and Linda still remained quiet. Josie raised her voice.

  “Isn’t it true, Mrs. Rayburn, that Hannah checked the room you shared with your husband, Kip, on the night of the fire that killed Justice Rayburn?”

  Josie had Linda now. Norris stopped bouncing in his chair. Rudy had leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table.

  “Mrs. Rayburn,” Josie demanded. “Did Fritz Rayburn threaten to ruin your husband professionally if he did not divorce you?”

  “Oh, my God,” Linda breathed, her fingers shaking as they covered her mouth.

  “Is it, or isn’t it true, Mrs. Rayburn?” Josie turned toward the bench. “Your Honor, direct the witness to answer the question.”

  “Objection, Your Honor. Hearsay. Mrs. Rayburn could not have first hand knowledge of what wa
s between her husband and his father.”

  “That’s not true, Your Honor,” Josie said quickly. “Hannah knew about the ultimatum. I would like to mark her journal as exhibit twenty-three. You’ll see that it indicates that she knew there was every possibility her mother and Kip Rayburn might divorce. If my client knew of this arrangement, then it can be concluded that Mrs. Rayburn also knew.”

  “I’ll allow this line of questioning.” The judge waved her on. Josie ran for the finish line.

  “Did you know about that threat, Mrs. Rayburn?”

  “Yes, I did,” Linda answered.

  “And do you know what your husband’s decision was regarding this ultimatum?”

  “He would never divorce me,” Linda whispered. “Never.”

  “So Kip Rayburn was willing to lose his inheritance, willing to endure the public humiliation his father was going to visit on him, all for you?”

  “Fritz never would have followed through. He loved Kip.”

  “He loved him so much he locked him in closets and he almost cut his finger off. Fritz Rayburn loved his son so much that he enjoyed threatening him and controlling him even as an adult. Fritz cared so much about his son that he wanted him to destroy the only thing he held dear – his marriage?”

  “Fritz played games. That was all. He never would have done it,” Linda insisted.

  “And you were sure of that, Mrs. Rayburn?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was your husband sure of that, Mrs. Rayburn? Was Kip Rayburn positive that his father was going to back away from that threat, or was Kip Rayburn driven to find a way to stop his father, Fritz Rayburn, from destroying his life?”

  Linda hesitated. She looked at the judge. Her eyes shifted to Rudy then darted frantically to the spectators, looking for someone who would save her from this. That hand was back at her throat only this time the gesture was not alluring. Her nails scratched a long red welt down her neck before she realized what she was doing.

  “Objection, Your Honor. Calls for a conclusion. If Ms. Bates wants to know what Mr. Rayburn thought. . .”

  “Withdrawn. Withdrawn.” Josie waved her hands as if she could erase that question. She closed the gap between her and Linda.

  “Mrs. Rayburn, do you know if Hannah looked into your room the night of the fire? Less than 48 hours after your husband had words with his father regarding your marital status. After your husband violently attacked his father by throwing a heavy vase at Justice Rayburn. Did your daughter check your bedroom that night?”

  “Yes, she did.” Linda’s voice quavered.

  “And was your husband in bed with you, Mrs. Rayburn?”

  The silence was full to bursting as the two women looked at one another.

  “Mrs. Rayburn, your husband was angry with his father. Your husband testified that he had a heated argument with his father and had thrown a heavy object at him. Mrs. Rayburn, was your husband in bed with you when the fire started?”

  Linda leaned forward. Her voice was low, her words for Josie only. Her eyes were full of fearful tears and her lips trembled.

  “Don’t go there, Josie,” she begged.

  “Answer the question, please. When Hannah did her nightly rounds and looked into your bedroom to make sure you had not abandoned her, did she see both you and your husband in bed?”

  “I’m begging you,” Linda whispered, but her voice was harsh. There was no pleading only a warning. “Don’t do this.”

  Josie put her hands on the wooden railing that surrounded Linda.

  “Is your husband more important than your child, Mrs. Rayburn, the same way every man you’ve ever been with has been more important than your child?”

  “Argumentative, Your Honor,” Rudy called.

  “She is a hostile witness, Judge,” Josie shot back, her eyes never leaving Linda’s. “She is hostile to this court, and to her child, and to anyone who might stand in the way of Linda Rayburn getting – and keeping - exactly what she wants.”

  “Ms. Bates, ask the question,” Norris snapped.

  “I have, Your Honor and I will keep asking it until I get an answer.”

  “Don’t bother. I’ll do it.” Judge Norris took the matter out of Josie’s hands.

  “No,” Josie roared. “She is my witness.”

  “Ms. Bates!” Norris was equally adamant. “Step back.”

  Reluctantly, Josie did as she was told.

  “Mrs. Rayburn, was your husband in bed with you the night the fire started? If you do not answer, or you do not answer truthfully, I will hold you in contempt of court and you will go to jail. Now, was he, or was he not, with you?”

  The courtroom itself seemed alive. The collective breath of all those present was held so that it seemed the walls heaved in anticipation.

  “No.” Linda choked on the word. Her head fell back, and her long and beautiful neck arched toward the ceiling as she gave up, gave in and told the court what it needed to know.

  “Did he go to bed with you?” Josie took over the questioning once more.

  “No,” Linda admitted.

  “Did he ever come to bed that evening?”

  “No.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I know because I was awake. I was waiting. He was upset that night.”

  “With his father?”

  “Yes, with his father,” Linda shot back. “Because his father had treated me badly in front of our guests.”

  “Mrs. Rayburn, were you worried that your husband would give in and save his inheritance by divorcing you?”

  Linda shook her head, “Never. Never. If my husband was going to do that he would already have filed the papers.”

  “So he was willing to give up his relationship with his father, his father’s partnership interest in the firm, and everything else to stay with you?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Linda answered coldly. “He said he would work it out.”

  “And exactly how was he going to work that out, Mrs. Rayburn?” Josie demanded. “How was he going to do that?”

  “He wasn’t going to do it by killing his father, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  Linda’s shoulders began to shake. It was just a small tremor at first but Josie was close enough to see it begin. This was not a manifestation of anger but of something else entirely: Linda Rayburn was breaking down. The pressure of having to choose between truth and a lie was bringing her to the breaking point. When she turned back to Josie, her shoulders had slumped in defeat, her face was pale, those green eyes that turned up so exotically were seeing the future, and it wasn’t pretty, or safe, or filled with promise.

  “Then tell this court, do you know where he was when the fire started?”

  “No, I do not.”

  “Mrs. Rayburn,” Josie began.

  “Josie, please. Don’t ask any more,” Linda begged. “Kip didn’t do anything. I swear he didn’t.”

  Josie refused to listen. She was overwhelmed by outrage on behalf of Hannah, the girl who had always paid the price for Linda’s cowardice and greed, the daughter who protected her mother at every turn, only to take second place to the men in Linda’s life. Josie’s fist hit the railing, underscoring her next words.

  “Do you know where your husband was, Mrs. Rayburn?”

  “No, I don’t. I imagine he was sleeping in the guestroom. He did that when. . .”

  Josie twirled away and took two strides toward the jury box. Every eye was on her, and every mind was following her lead.

  “Maybe we should all imagine. Maybe we should imagine that your husband was at the west wing of your home fighting with his father. Maybe we should imagine that in his rage he pushed his father and the old man fell and hit his head.” Josie whirled back toward Linda but went no closer. “Maybe we could imagine that it was Kip Rayburn spilling turpentine on the floor and lighting a match so that he could protect his interest in Fritz Rayburn’s law firm and remain married to you. Maybe we should imagine that!”

&nb
sp; Rudy was on his feet hollering. “Ms. Bates is making up a story. This is not evidence. This is fiction and conjecture.”

  “This is a witness hostile to the defense, Judge.” Josie stormed toward the bench, putting her hands on top of it as if she could force Judge Norris to validate her questioning. “You designated her hostile and her refusal to . . .”

  “No. No,” Linda cried. Nearly hysterical, she grasped the wooden railing, shaking it as if she might escape by tearing it down. “No. Don’t even say that. Kip didn’t set that fire. He didn’t hurt his father . . he couldn’t. . . ”

  “He couldn’t what, Linda?”

  Josie whipped around. She could feel the fire in her cheeks, she was caught up in the fight for Hannah, and she would not lose. Josie was feverish with the infectious sense of victory. This time she would win. She would save the right person.

  “Why not? Is it any more outrageous than imagining Hannah, that poor, confused girl could have set that fire? That girl who was so terrified of losing you, and her home, that she checked on you every night? Why is that any more reasonable?”

  “Because it’s just not right. It’s not right.”

  Linda’s bristled with anger, but behind her eyes there was true pain. If Josie had not been caught up, if the end of her quest had not seemed so near, she might have been touched by that pain and loosened the tension on the lasso that was her questions. But the momentum was too great. She walked. She pointed. She raised her voice, and with her height she swooped toward the witness stand and tightened the rope around Linda, choking the answer out of her.

  “Why couldn’t he have done it? Why isn’t it right to ask that question? He wasn’t there with you in bed. He did not come to the scene of the fire until it was put down. He didn’t call for help, you did. You gave him time to get away. You were protecting him all this time weren’t you, Mrs. Rayburn? Protecting your husband over your own child. Isn’t that the case, Mrs. Rayburn?”

  Josie’s voice rose to a sharp note that cut through the tension in the courtroom and divided the onlookers into those who couldn’t wait to hear the truth, and those who were afraid to. With gargantuan effort Josie pulled back. Her voice dropped. She was exhausted. Her hands fell to her sides and she pulled herself to her full height.