“Do you recall how often the two of you would be intimate?”
“I’m not sure; he would meet me sometimes twice a week. Sometimes it was less. He was always studying. We did other things too. I mean it wasn’t all . . . We talked. We walked.”
“Was there a time when you decided to stop seeing him?”
“After my parents found out, they said they would send Alex to jail if I continued to see him. I told him we couldn’t see each other anymore.”
“And did the relationship end then?”
Before any answer could be given, McGuiness objected. “Your Honor, may we approach the bench?”
Wallace motioned them forward and addressed the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will take a short recess.” After the bailiff escorted the jury from the room, Wallace signaled both attorneys to step back. “So, where are we going with this, Mr. Jamison?”
“Your Honor, Ms. Garrett and the defendant had a previous relationship. It’s our position that the nature of that relationship is relevant to why she would not have gone willingly with the defendant on the night in question.”
“Mr. McGuiness?”
“Well, Your Honor, actually I just wanted to make sure I understood why Mr. Jamison was bringing this up at this time. I haven’t alleged that there was consent but I can say to the court that I intended to bring it up, so whether it’s now or later makes no difference to me.”
Jamison returned to his seat, sipping from a paper cup full of cold water. It was clear that McGuiness was being far too accommodating. But why? The jury returned and he resumed his questions. “Ms. Garrett, the last question was ‘Did the relationship end then?’”
“It ended for about a month. He would come by the store but I wouldn’t see him. Sometimes he would leave a note. Then one day he said he had to see me. He said it was important and to meet him near the park where we walked.”
“Did you meet him?”
“I saw him. He was in his car. I got in and we talked. Then suddenly he began driving.”
“Then what happened?”
“He said he was taking me away. He said he wanted to marry me. It was like he was crazy. I told him I wasn’t going with him. Then he pulled out a knife. He told me we were going to go south, maybe across the Mexican border, and get married. He wouldn’t stop. He drove to someplace in the Los Angeles area and he got a motel.”
“Why didn’t you run away?”
For several seconds she remained silent, and when she answered her voice was so soft that jurors strained to hear it. “I’ve asked myself that a thousand times. I was terrified. He had the knife. I don’t know what to say. I just didn’t run. I was so afraid. He waved the knife in front of my face.”
“Did you stay at the motel?”
“Yes, we spent the night there. He wouldn’t let me call my parents or anyone to tell them where I was. He kept saying we were going to get married. He kept saying it was all going to be all right, I would see.”
“Did anything happen while you were at the hotel?”
“He forced himself on me.” Elizabeth looked down, the words coming out in a whisper.
“By ‘forced himself on me’ do you mean that he made you have sexual intercourse?”
“Yes.”
“Did he hurt you in any way or threaten you?”
“The knife was right there on the nightstand. It was always in reach for him. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. I was too afraid. Looking back I know someone might ask why I didn’t try to escape. All I can say is that I was seventeen and I was terrified.”
Jamison paused to allow the jury to focus on Elizabeth. Her head was down and her hair covered her face as she stared at her lap. When she looked up tears were streaming down her face. Jamison glanced at the jury box; several of the female jurors were wiping at their eyes and stealing glances at St. Claire.
“The next day, what happened?”
“He said we were going to Mexico, that we would get married. We drove all over the area, and then he stopped at a light—I don’t know; I suddenly realized I had to get away and this was my chance. And so I jumped out of the car and ran to the nearest house. I was banging on the door and a woman let me in. That was when the police were called and she called my mom.”
“Was this in the daytime?”
“It was early afternoon, maybe one or two if I remember correctly.”
Jamison moved over to the counsel table and picked up a stapled set of papers, looking over at McGuiness, who nodded and said, “Your Honor, Mr. Jamison and I have stipulated that if called to testify, the officer who responded from the Los Angeles Police Department would say that he contacted Ms. Garrett at two thirty in the afternoon.”
“Thank you, Mr. McGuiness,” Jamison replied. He stepped back around the counsel table and stood near the jury rail while he continued his direct examination of Elizabeth Garrett. “What happened to the defendant?”
“I don’t know. He drove away and the next time I saw him was in court back here when my father had him arrested.”
Jamison went back to the counsel table and looked at his notes. “Now, Ms. Garrett, you refused to cooperate with the authorities about that incident. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I knew they thought I ran off with him. I didn’t tell anybody about what happened at the hotel. I just wanted to put it behind me. I felt like part of what happened was my fault. What he did was wrong but I wasn’t hurt. I didn’t want to ruin his life. I just wanted him to stay away from me. So I told my parents that I didn’t want to think about it anymore. And that was that. The police said that unless I cooperated they had no case. I didn’t see the defendant again for ten years, until right before this happened.”
“Please explain how you came to see him again?” Jamison could see the jurors leaning forward.
“I was shopping at the Fashion Mall. He walked up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, and I think I screamed a bit. I know people were looking. But he didn’t do anything. He said he saw me and wanted to say hello and that he was sorry about everything. He said he had been crazy about me. He thanked me for not pursuing the charges. He said he was a doctor now, an anesthesiologist, and that he’d been studying someplace in Europe. Now he was back and at the county hospital. I kept backing away, and then I walked off. That was it.”
“Did you tell anyone about this?”
“Only my girlfriend Cheryl, Cheryl Ewing.”
“Did you see the defendant again after that?”
“It was a little over a week later when I saw him that night on the road by the cemetery.”
“Tell us what happened that night by the cemetery.”
Jamison had instructed Elizabeth to face the jury when she answered this question. She moved forward in the witness chair, pushing her hair back, and paused before answering. “I was driving home around nine o’clock at night. I had been at dinner with Cheryl. I was going to stay at her place because I didn’t have to teach the next day, but I changed my mind and decided to go home instead. I was listening to the radio and I guess I wasn’t paying attention because I missed my turnoff. That’s why I ended up where I did. I turned off of Olive onto the road between the cemeteries. It was out there when I saw flashing lights behind me and what looked like a red light. There aren’t any streetlights out there and it’s very dark. All I could see was the red light and the headlights, which flashed.”
“Was there a siren?”
“No, I didn’t hear any siren. I pulled over. I didn’t know what I had done wrong but you know, you see the red light and you stop.” Several of the women jurors were nodding. “I reached into my purse for my license and rolled down the window. That’s when I saw him.”
“By him, you mean the defendant?”
“Yes, the defendant. He was just standing right next to the window. As soon as I heard his voice I knew it was Alex.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, �
��Remember me?’ And he had this knife. He just moved it back and forth in front of my face. It was like I was paralyzed by fear.” Her voice broke as she brought her hand up to her neck. “He cut me.”
The courtroom was completely silent. The jurors, the audience, and the judge sat, rapt. Jamison let the silence build before asking his next question. “Ms. Garrett, when you say the defendant cut you, would you describe for the jury exactly what he did?”
She closed her eyes, breathing more rapidly as her hand again brushed her neck. “He moved the knife closer and closer to my face, swinging it back and forth before my eyes, and then he put it on my neck. I could feel the blade sliding down my skin. He held the knife in front of me and I could see the tip. There was blood on it.” Elizabeth’s voice trailed off to a whisper and she began to cry. “I was petrified. I thought he was going to kill me. I remember he reached in. There was something in his hand but I don’t know what it was. I kept looking at the knife. That’s all I remember until I woke up later.”
Again, Jamison let the silence fill the seconds before he asked his next question. “Elizabeth, what was it like when you woke up?”
“It was black. Everything was black. I tried to move but my hands and legs were tied somehow. The only light I saw was when the defendant came in. He gave me something but I don’t remember much except that it was so black. I could hear a kind of humming sound, like a refrigerator, but I couldn’t see anything. I really don’t remember much except I was lying on something hard, like a table. There was plastic under me. I could feel it but I never saw it. When I woke up again I was on the bed and my arms and legs were tied. My clothing was gone. There was a camera on a tripod. It was at the end of the bed.”
“Elizabeth, Ms. Garrett, while you were held captive, did the defendant, if you remember or know, ever have sexual relations with you?”
“I was unconscious most of the time. I can say that when I was awake he only touched me. He put his hand on my leg and my thigh. That’s all I remember.”
Jamison retrieved from the clerk’s desk several photographs that had been removed from St. Claire’s camera and printed by the forensic crew, and handed them to Elizabeth.
“I show you now People’s Exhibits One through Five. Can you tell us what they depict?”
Elizabeth held them in her hands for what seemed like a minute before looking up. Her face flushed at the thought that pictures of her unclothed would be passed around. “They are each pictures of me on the bed.”
“Are you looking at the camera in any of them?”
“This one. I have my head lifted up.”
“That is Exhibit Five, for the record. Can you describe the expression on your face?”
“There is no expression. My face is blank.”
“And in the other pictures can you describe your face?”
“My eyes are closed in most of them and in one I have my face turned toward the side. You can’t see my eyes.”
“Do you remember these photographs being taken?”
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t remember much of anything until Investigator Garcia came crashing through the window.”
“When Investigator Garcia came through the window, can you tell the jury what happened?”
“I didn’t hear anything until the window broke and the glass flew in. I started screaming. I didn’t know who he was. He kept pulling at the ropes. He had blood all over him. He pulled me off the bed. That’s all I recall until I woke up in the hospital.”
Jamison walked to the side of the jury box, his voice projecting from behind the jurors as they looked at Elizabeth. “Ms. Garrett, on that night when you left your car by the side of the road, did you go voluntarily with the defendant?”
Elizabeth looked at Jamison, startled. “No, no, Mr. Jamison. I told you, he had a knife.”
“And, when you were tied to the bed, did you consent to any of that?”
The convulsive sound of words bursting out of Elizabeth filled the corners of the courtroom. “I never wanted to see you again! You should have left me alone, Alex! You should have left me alone!”
Elizabeth began to cry softly and Jamison said, “Your Honor, we have no further questions.”
McGuiness stood up from behind the counsel table. “Your Honor, perhaps a short recess for the sake of the witness?” Wallace excused the jurors, who shuffled out of the courtroom, several stealing glances at Elizabeth, who was still crying as Jamison helped her off the stand.
Usually McGuiness walked to the front of the witness stand when he cross-examined. Part of it was intimidation. Part of it was so he could concentrate on the face of the witness, watching for any small sign that indicated the witness was not being truthful, looking for a place to slip in a barbed point. But with a witness like Garrett he knew that would be a mistake. A jury would resent it, and they would resent him.
He had thought very carefully about how to conduct this cross-examination. Intimidation was not what he was after and he did not expect surrender. His objective was destruction, but he intended to make Elizabeth Garrett destroy herself.
“Perhaps, Your Honor, this would be an appropriate time for a stipulation that Mr. Jamison and I have agreed to?” McGuiness turned toward Jamison, who nodded. “I believe the prosecutor will stipulate that no evidence of sexual activity was found after medical examination of Ms. Garrett?”
“We will stipulate to that, Your Honor.” There was no point in Jamison arguing about it. The stipulation simply removed from dispute what the evidence would show if a medical examiner was brought in. All McGuiness had done was put the stipulation in front of the jury before he asked Elizabeth a single question.
Elizabeth waited for McGuiness to begin his questions. Jamison had reminded her during the fifteen-minute recess that she should try to remain calm, only answer the specific question asked, and keep her answers as short as possible.
“Ms. Garrett, I understand this is very difficult for you. It isn’t my intention to upset you, please understand. If you need a recess just let me know and I certainly will have no objection to giving you a moment. All right?” Elizabeth nodded.
McGuiness was a master at lulling the witness, dancing around the area where he would inflict his wound, creating a false sense of security before he stuck in the blade.
Every trial lawyer knew the worst thing a witness could do was lie about something that can be irrefutably disproven. And Thomas McGuiness believed that Elizabeth Garrett was going to lie. He believed she already had lied indirectly. And now he had every reason to believe she was going to lie directly.
“Ms. Garrett, you have acknowledged that you used to have a relationship with Alex St. Claire, is that right?
“Yes.”
“And you’ve told the court that your parents told you not to see him anymore, is that true?”
“Yes.”
“But you continued to see him, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So you lied to your mother and father about your relationship?”
“I thought I was in love. I thought they wouldn’t understand.”
“Okay, you told Alex that you loved him, isn’t that true?” McGuiness was encouraging Elizabeth and the jury to think of his client as “Alex” and not “the defendant.” There was nothing Jamison could do as he watched McGuiness subtly personalize Alex St. Claire.
“I didn’t understand what it meant.”
“Well, Alex told you that he loved you also, didn’t he?”
“But he was older . . .”
“I understand. But let’s talk for a moment about the time when you say you broke up with Alex. You testified that after your parents found out that you were still seeing him, you told Alex that you couldn’t see him anymore?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, what exactly did you tell him?”
“I told him that my father had forbidden me to see him anymore and that it had to be over.”
“And you also told him t
hat you still loved him, isn’t that so?”
“Yes.”
“You and Alex slept together numerous times during that relationship, didn’t you?”
“Yes. I had never been with a man before. I testified to that.”
“You also testified that Alex asked to see you after you broke up. And that you agreed to see him even though, according to you, you had done what your parents said?”
“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
“Well, Ms. Garrett, isn’t it true that it was you who asked Alex to come and see you?”
“No, it is not.”
“Isn’t it true, Ms. Garrett, that you told Alex St. Claire that you were pregnant?”
The response was adamant. “No, I never said that. I wasn’t pregnant and I never told Alex that.”
“I’m going to ask you that question again, Ms. Garrett, and I ask you to think carefully about your answer. Isn’t it true that you told Alex St. Claire that you were pregnant and you didn’t know what to do? Isn’t it true that he said he wanted to marry you and that’s why you left with him? It was to get married, wasn’t it?”
“I object!” Jamison was on his feet trying to stop the questions. “Mr. McGuiness is asking repeated questions without allowing the witness to answer. He’s testifying instead of the witness.”
Wallace looked over the top of the bench at McGuiness. “The objection is sustained. Mr. McGuiness, you will allow the witness to answer before asking your next question.”
“Yes, Your Honor, I apologize. Ms. Garrett, isn’t it true that Alex St. Claire said he would marry you because you told him you were pregnant?”
“He said he wanted to marry me but I never said I was pregnant and I didn’t leave with him voluntarily. He had a knife.”
Spreading his arms apart as if willing to embrace an explanation, McGuiness said, “So let me see if I understand this. You went with my client to Los Angeles and you spent the night in a motel somewhere and you never tried to escape. Is that your testimony?” The defense attorney’s voice was incredulous.
“Don’t you hear me?” Her voice began to rise as she became emotional. “He had a knife. I was terrified. He was like a possessed person.”
Fractured Justice Page 20
