“Please state your name for the record,” said Victoria.
“Andrew Phillips.”
“Mr. Phillips, you are the son of Richard Phillips?”
“I am.”
“Now you weren’t in here, but we've asked your sister a variety of questions. We're not going to ask you all the same ones.”
“Good.” Andrew gave the impression that there were a lot of other places he'd rather be.
“Did you come to Carrefour for Jake and Mandy’s wedding with your father?”
“I did.”
“And did you stay in the same hotel?”
“Yes.”
“On the first night you were here, Thursday night, did you go out with some of your friends?”
“I did. I met up with my cousin Jake and some of our other friends and we went out for a few beers after Mandy went to bed.”
“And did you return to the hotel that night?”
“I did.”
“What happened when you came back?”
“Well, the bars had closed so it was a little after two. My dad had arranged for a 24-hour kitchen in one of the banquet rooms, so me and Jake and a couple other guys went in there to get something to eat before we went to bed.”
“Was the kitchen actually staffed?”
Andrew nodded. “We were going to get a late-night breakfast.”
“And what did you find when you got there?”
“My dad was sitting at a table, drinking some tea.”
“How do you know it was tea?”
“Because I could see the little string connected to the bag hanging out of the cup. And because he told me so.”
Victoria nodded as if this was a spontaneous discovery. “Why don't you tell the jury everything that happened.”
“We all went over to the counter, and placed orders, and then we went over and sat next to my dad while we waited.”
“Did you get along with your father?”
Andrew nodded. “Very well. And Jake got along with him really well too, better than his dad a lot of the time, so Jake was glad to see him.”
“What happened next?”
“Now that we’re all older, we don't see each other as much, so my dad had a lot of questions for Jake and our friends about what had been going on with all of us, so we talked until our food was ready.”
“Did anything else happen while you were talking?”
“Uhm, not that I can think of.”
Victoria smiled and nodded her head. “Did your father drink his tea?”
“Oh, yeah right, he did. He finished his cup and then he went and filled a new cup with hot water and pulled this white tea bag out of his pocket and put it in the cup and started bouncing around you know like…” Andrew held up his hand and jiggled it like he was moving a yo-yo.
“Did your father drink tea often?”
“No, that was the funny thing. I asked him what sort of sissy ass, uhm, I mean what kind of pansy drink he was drinking and he said it was tea.”
“What else did he say?”
“I asked when he started drinking tea and he said that the woman he was seeing had turned him on to it.”
“Who is that woman?”
“That woman right there,” Andrew said, pointing. “Liselle Vila.”
“Did he say why he drank it?”
“He did. He said that he had trouble sleeping sometimes and that she’d made this tea for him. Said it worked like a charm.”
“Now Andrew, this is important. Your father actually said that Ms. Vila made the tea for him?”
“He did.”
“Did that concern you?”
Andrew shook his head. “Not at all. I mean it was tea for Christ’s sake. And Dad said it worked so, as far as I was concerned, it was fine.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“No, about then our food was ready so we went up to get it and my dad said it was time for him to turn in, so he poured his tea into a ‘go’ cup and went back to his room.”
“When you say he went back to his room, was he sharing that room with Ms. Vila?”
“He was.”
“Mr. Phillips, did you know that your father took blood pressure medication?”
“Everybody knew that my father took blood pressure medication.”
“Objection, Your Honor,” I said. “The witness has no idea what everybody knows.”
“Mr. Phillips, you will limit your answers to what you know,” said Judge French.
Victoria shot a glance at me and said, “Mr. Phillips, did you know that your father took the high blood pressure medication Lopressor?”
“I did.”
I let Victoria’s naming of the medication pass.
“How did you know?”
“Because my father was always complaining about it to anyone who would listen. He couldn't stand the stuff.”
“I see. And did your father drink alcohol?”
“Sure.”
“What did he normally drink?”
“Pappy Van Winkle at home. Johnny Walker if he was out.”
“You have to forgive me, that's…?”
Andrew smiled. “Whiskey.”
“I see. Did your father drink red wine?”
“Not usually.”
“What about over the wedding weekend?”
“He did drink red wine then. It was weird.”
“When did he drink it?”
“When Ms. Vila ordered it.”
“How do you know that?”
“I guess I didn’t know it at the wedding. I know it from the rehearsal dinner because I saw him ask her what she wanted and when she said ‘Malbec,’ he said make it two.”
“And did he have more than one glass?”
“He did. When Ms. Vila ordered another, he said, ‘let's just get a whole bottle.’”
“And that was not his normal drink?”
“Not that I’d ever seen.”
“Finally, Mr. Phillips, I know this may be difficult for you but did you see your father towards the end of the reception?”
“Before he died?”
“Yes.”
“I did.”
“What was he doing?”
“He was dancing.”
“When was he dancing?”
“The question is when wasn't he dancing. He danced all night. She wouldn’t let him off the dance floor.”
I stood. “Objection, Your Honor.”
“Sustained,” said Judge French. “Again Mr. Phillips, you must limit your answers to what you personally observed.”
“Well, I observed, Your Honor, that at one point my dad started walking off the floor and the band started playing some song by some country band that I'd never heard of and Ms. Vila over there grabbed him by the arm and said it was her favorite song and that she had to dance to it and he went back out.”
“And you saw that personally?”
“I did.”
“Thank you, Mr. Phillips. No further questions, Your Honor.”
As Victoria sat down, I approached Andrew Phillips and set up right in front of the jury. “Mr. Phillips when you saw your dad on Thursday night when you came back from the bar, he seemed fine, didn't he?”
Andrew scowled. “What do you mean fine?”
“He wasn't flushed, was he?”
“No.”
“He wasn't sweating?”
“No.”
“He wasn't short of breath that you could see?”
“No.”
“Instead, he was talking about having a little trouble sleeping, right?”
“Yes.”
“And he had some tea and went to bed?”
“Yes.”
“Did he seem fine you when he left?”
Andrew smirked. “I still don’t think we know what ‘fine’ means.”
“Your dad didn’t seem sick in any way when he left for the night, did he?”
“Other than having insomnia?”
“Yes.”
/>
“Then no.”
“If it seemed like something was wrong with him, you would have called for help, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course.”
“You golfed with your dad on Friday morning?”
“I did.”
“Did you give him a beer while you were on the course?”
Andrew made a show of thinking. “I don't think so.”
“You didn’t buy your dad a beer the whole time?”
“I don't think so.”
I gestured and Danny popped a receipt onto the video screen eight feet tall. “If a receipt from the course showed that you bought a twelve pack of Stella Artois, would that refresh your recollection?”
Without a prompt from me, Danny highlighted Andrew’s name on the receipt in yellow. He really was a good associate.
Andrew nodded. “Now I remember. I did buy a twelve pack.”
“On the front nine. You bought another on the back nine too, right?”
Andrew’s eyes flicked to the screen. “I believe I did.”
“And did you share that with everyone who was golfing with you?”
“Yes.”
“And did your dad have some of them?”
Andrew nodded reluctantly. “He did.”
“You mentioned that you knew your dad had high blood pressure, right?”
“I did.”
“And you said that's because he complained about taking the medication frequently?”
“He did. I remember him talking about it on the course that day.”
“Liselle Vila wasn’t on the course with you and your family that day, was she?”
“She was not.”
“You also mentioned a moment ago that you heard Liselle Vila ask your father to go back on the dance floor at the reception when her favorite song came on, do you remember that?”
“I do.”
“And you said you saw your father go back out on the dance floor?”
“He did.”
“And that was one time for one dance during the course of the reception, is that true?”
“That I saw, yes.”
“That's my point, you saw her ask him to dance one time, right?”
“Yes.”
“That dance lasted what four minutes, five minutes?”
“It could have been longer.”
“Fine. Let’s say it was Bohemian Rhapsody. That would mean the song lasted about six minutes.”
Andrew smirked again. “It wasn’t Bohemian Rhapsody, though.”
“Can we agree that the song was no longer than ten minutes?”
“I don’t have to agree to anything.”
“No, Mr. Phillips, you don’t, but you do have to tell the truth. You golfed with your father on Friday, right?”
“I already said that.”
“It was hot that day, right?”
“I don’t remember.”
“If the National Weather Service said it got up to eighty-eight degrees that day in Carrefour, Ohio, you wouldn’t dispute it, would you?”
“I guess not.”
“And it took you, what, five hours to play?”
“I don't know exactly.”
“A least four hours, right?”
“I guess.”
“And we know during that time that your dad drank beer, right?”
“Yes.”
“And that you bought him beer, right?”
“Yes.”
“And your sister’s already testified that your father had a coffee to start the round, right?”
“If she says so.”
“And you knew that your father had high blood pressure because he complained about taking the medicine all the time, true?”
“Yes.”
“And yet you kept him on a golf course for over four hours in the eighty-eight-degree sun drinking beer, didn’t you?”
Andrew ground his teeth a little bit before he said, “I didn’t make him do anything.”
“No, you didn’t, did you. Because he made up his own mind to drink beer and golf, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“So when you gave your father beer and kept him out in the eighty-eight-degree sun for over four hours, you weren’t trying to kill him, were you?”
Victoria stood. “Objection, Your Honor. That's a ridiculous, argumentative question that's completely disrespectful of the witness’s loss.”
I shook my head. “Your Honor, I agree that it’s completely disrespectful to ask someone who cared about Richard Phillips if they were trying to kill him when they were clearly just drinking and having a good time but here we are.”
Judge French did not look at all pleased with me but said, “Overruled, Miss Lance.”
I nodded. “You weren't trying to kill your father when you drank and golfed with him all day were you, Mr. Phillips?”
“No, I was not. But that doesn't mean that she wasn't.”
“Really? My client didn’t get anything from your dad's trust. Did you?”
Victoria sprang to her feet. “Objection!”
Judge French raised his hand and stared at me. “Sustained.”
“No further questions, Your Honor.”
37
The last witness of the day was Paulette Phillips. Paulette was tall, slim, in her fifties, and had shoulder length blonde hair that was cut perfectly straight. She wore a suit, a strand of pearls, and a diamond ring that was large enough to be noticeable from across the courtroom. As she took the witness chair, she could just as easily have been taking a seat at a board meeting or a country club brunch as she raised her eyes expectantly to Victoria.
“Could you state your name please?” said Victoria.
“Paulette Phillips.”
“And how are you related to all of the Phillips the jury has heard about today?”
Paulette smiled. “I’m married to Stephen Phillips, who is—who was—Richard Phillips’ brother. The groom, Jake Phillips, is my son. Bre and Andrew, who you met today, are my niece and nephew.”
“Thank you,” Victoria smiled.
Paulette Phillips smiled in return and said, “It can be confusing.”
“Mrs. Phillips, I will be brief. As the mother of the groom, did you arrange the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.”
“My husband and I did, yes.”
“Had you met Liselle Vila before that dinner?”
“I had not. Richard had RSVP’d some weeks before with a generic plus one so the first time I heard her name was a couple of weeks before the wedding when Richard sent us a note letting us know whom he was bringing. Steve and I came out on an earlier flight to take care of arrangements so the first time I met her was at the rehearsal dinner.”
“What were your impressions of her?”
“She's stunning, obviously. She's also young, or at least thirty seems young compared to me or Steve or Richard. But you only have to speak to her for a little while to realize that she's also incredibly smart.”
“Oh? What led you to that conclusion?”
“The small talk we had before we sat down to eat. Apparently, while Richard and Steve and the kids were out golfing, Ms. Vila was inspecting some nearby woods because they were related to work she was doing back home in Missouri as a woodland biologist.”
“Did you know what that work was?”
Paulette smiled. “I'm afraid I'm not a woodland biologist. I do recall that I was impressed that she’d taken the time to fit in work while she was here. It struck me as being dedicated.” She smiled a little. “And not entirely like other people that Richard had brought around.”
“Other people?” said Victoria.
“Other dates. Richard had brought other beautiful women to events but I don't know that he’d ever brought one who was so dedicated to something beyond the society scene.”
“Mrs. Phillips, did you coordinate the menu for the rehearsal dinner that evening?”
“I did.”
“Did it include pr
osciutto?”
“It did.”
“Aged cheese?”
“Brie and Romano, I believe.”
“Did you see Richard eat any of those foods that night?”
“I didn't see him eat any cheese. I did see him eat a good deal of prosciutto.”
Victoria smiled and walked towards the jury. “Now Mrs. Phillips, I have to ask you, with all that was going on for you at your son’s wedding, how do you remember that your brother-in-law ate prosciutto as an appetizer at the rehearsal dinner?”
“Because I remember Ms. Vila bringing him a plate and telling him it was delicious and Richard asking where we got it. When I told him that it had been flown in especially from Italy for the event, Richard had wanted to know the name of the castle where it was aged and I texted it to him later that night.”
Victoria stopped and turned. “The castle?”
Paulette shrugged and smiled and didn't look the least bit apologetic. “We have access to some means, Ms. Lance.”
“I see,” said Victoria.
“That's why I remember it though.”
“Did you offer red wine that night?”
“We did. And I remember that Richard had some because he doesn't normally drink it.”
“No?”
“No, he enjoys Pappy Van Winkle, which we’d brought in especially for him. He wound up drinking the wine instead.”
“Is that why you remember it?”
Paulette smiled. “I’m afraid I must admit that I was slightly irritated.”
“Anything else that stands out to you from the rehearsal dinner?”
“Richard drinking tea.”
“Again, I have to ask, how can you remember that?”
“Because it was unusual. When we served coffee and dessert at the end of the meal, Richard asked if he could have a cup with hot water. That caught my attention because no one else wanted any. When the water came, he put a teabag in it. I asked him what he was doing and he smiled and said he was trying new things. I didn't think anything more of it.”
“Did the restaurant provide him with the tea?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“I saw Ms. Vila give him the teabag.”
“So that night you saw Ms. Vila recommend the prosciutto to Richard?”
“Yes.”
True Intent Page 22
