As Pontrelli slowly rose from his seat, he turned briefly to his left and sent a smile from his multi-thousand dollar veneers to the jury.
“I call Ms. Robbins to the witness stand.”
I patted June on her wrist and whispered “remember what we talked about” as she slowly walked to the witness stand where she had already spent all morning.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Robbins.”
“Good afternoon.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I am fine. Thank you.”
“I know this is difficult. But you do understand that we are out to find the truth.”
“I do.”
“And you have made a very serious charge against my client. And that is why it may at times be difficult for you to sit here and answer my questions. But, at the end of the day we cannot allow the truth to elude us.”
“Your honor,” I said rising to my seat. “Mr. Pontrelli is lecturing my client and I am not sure where he is going?”
“I agree, Ms. Landau. Mr. Pontrelli, please make your point and move on,” Judge Faust admonished.
“I will, your honor.” Pontrelli paused and then turned to face the jurors as he asked his next question. “Do you ever have difficulty sleeping?”
“I don’t understand,” June said, confused.
“Well, when something from the day is bothering me, I sometimes have difficulty falling asleep. Does that ever happen to you?”
“Your honor. I object. Again, where is Mr. Pontrelli going with this?” I asked.
“My apologies, your honor. Please strike my question. I know this morning’s testimony was probably at times very uncomfortable. And it is extremely uncomfortable to have to provide intimate details to a room filled with strangers.”
June nodded.
“But you do understand that there are penalties in the law for not telling the truth.”
“I object,” I shouted, jumping to my feet again. “Mr. Pontrelli is again lecturing to my client.”
“Sustained. Mr. Pontrelli, would you please direct your remarks so that the witness can respond.”
“I understand, your honor. Very well,” Pontrelli said, momentarily returning to his counsel table to refer to his notes.
“Ms. Robbins. Were you ever married before your marriage to Mr. Robbins?”
Pontrelli had a reputation for being very aggressive towards witnesses. And, as June was easily intimidated, I was concerned how she would do on the stand. My fears came true as he began his cross-examination.
“No I was not,” June responded in a very soft tone.
“Were you ever engaged?”
“Only for a short time.”
The court reporter interrupted.
“Could you repeat that?”
“Ms. Robbins. The court reporter is making a recording of everything you said. If she cannot hear, there will not be an accurate record. So you need to speak up.”
“I am sorry, your honor. I am a little nervous.”
“I understand. All right, Mr. Pontrelli. You may continue.”
“Thank you your honor. Could the court reporter please read back my question?”
“Were you ever engaged?”
“Thank you.”
“Only for a short time.”
“The question calls for a yes or no,” Pontrelli said.
“I am sorry. Yes I was,” June confirmed.
“For how long?”
“Six months.”
“And that was to a Mr. Bruce Silverman?”
“Yes, that is right.”
“How long did you go out with Mr. Silverman before you became engaged?”
“I don’t know. I am sorry. Probably about a year.”
“And why didn’t the two of you get married?”
“Objection, your honor,” I protested. “There could be a myriad of reasons why people don’t end up married. But what does this have to do with this case?”
“Your honor. It is foundational,” Pontrelli argued.
“Go ahead. Objection overruled,” the judge allowed.
“We weren’t getting along,” June said.
“You weren’t getting along?” Pontrelli said. “Well, that doesn’t seem like enough of a reason to break off an engagement. There must have been more to it than that.”
“He was very controlling.”
“Like asking you to make him dinner? That kind of controlling?”
“No, more than that. I couldn’t do anything on my own. It was like I had to ask permission for everything. And I called it off.”
“So you broke up with him.”
“I did.”
“Had you already set a wedding date?”
“No, we had talked about sometime the following summer, but nothing was ever definite.”
“And after you broke up, did you ever see him again?”
June hesitated. “I think I did.”
“You think?”
“No I did.”
“Why?”
“We had received some presents when we got engaged. We were living together. And they were still at his apartment. And we got together to discuss how we would divide up everything.”
“So a similar situation like you had with Mr. Robbins.”
“Objection.”
“Strike the comment. Ok, so you went to his apartment.”
“Yes.”
“And this was after you had already ended your engagement.”
“Yes.”
“And did you have sex with your ex-fiancé that night?”
“Objection. Irrelevant.” I protested.
“Overruled,” said Judge Faust.
I remained standing. “I don’t see…”
“Ms. Landau.”
“Yes, your honor.”
“You will have your opportunity to re-direct.”
Judge Faust was now lecturing me.
“But I have already ruled,” he continued. “So please take your seat. Go on, Mr. Pontrelli.”
“Thank you your honor,” Pontrelli said, turning back to June. “Please answer. Did you have sex with your ex-fiancé that night?”
“We did.”
As June answered, I observed the jurors taking notes.
“But you had already broken up.”
“Yes.”
“Well, if you could please tell the court how you ended up having sex with your ex-fiancé that night after you had broken up?”
June looked at me for guidance but I could only remain still.
“He had made me dinner. We had some wine. It was just one of those things. But I never saw him after that.”
“So, one last time for old time’s sake.”
“Objection,” I said.
“This time I am going to sustain the objection,” said Judge Faust. “Mr. Pontrelli, I admonish you to refrain from interjecting your personal comments, which I find offensive.”
“I am sorry, your honor,” Pontrelli replied.
“The court will disregard what Mr. Pontrelli has just said. And this is a warning to both counsels,” the judge said severely. “Stop playing games. I have been on this bench for too long and know what you are doing. And I won’t tolerate it. Go on.”
June looked worried and I could see from my counsel table that her lower lip was quivering.
“I wish to explain,” June said turning to the judge.
“No need to,” Pontrelli replied immediately in a very condescending fashion.
Again June looked at me. But all I could do was to sit powerless awaiting Pontrelli’s next lob.
“Now, you were married for approximately two years when this alleged incident occurred?”
“He raped me.”
“Your honor,” Pontrelli smiled at the judge already knowing what the court would do in response to June’s testimony.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the judge turned to the jury. “The witness’s last comment was nonresponsive; that is it was not made in response to a question. You are to disregard it.”
“Thank you, your honor,” Pontrelli said. “Now Ms. Robbins. I repeat. Is it true that you were married for approximately two years when this alleged incident occurred?”
“Yes.”
“And you testified this morning that you separated from Mr. Rob-bins because he had a problem with gambling.”
“Yes. Over gambling. He was addicted to gambling.”
“And on the night of the alleged incident, you said, and let me refer to my notes, that you saw ‘fire in his eyes.’ Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Had your husband ever, prior to that night, had this look of fire in his eyes?”
“No.”
“Had your husband ever been violent with you before?”
“He had yelled.”
“No, what I mean is did he ever become physical with you. Did he ever hit you or threaten to harm you?”
“No.”
Pontrelli again returned to his counsel table to refer to his notes.
“On the night of the alleged attack, did your husband wear a condom?”
“Objection. Irrelevant,” I said.
I was surprised by Pontrelli’s question and had not prepared June for this question.
“Did you husband wear a condom on that night?” Pontrelli repeated.
“I don’t know,” June said.
“Your honor, I request that you order the witness to answer the question,” Pontrelli said.
“Ms. Robbins,” Judge Faust said. “You are instructed to answer Mr. Pontrelli’s question. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do. Yes, he wore a condom,” June said.
“Thank you,” Pontrelli nodded. “Now you have previously testified that your husband became violent that night. And you were afraid that if you did not cooperate, you said that you thought he would hurt you. And you were scared.”
“That is right.”
“And if I remember correctly, you testified that he ‘had you pinned down.’ Were those your words?”
“I believe so.”
“Then tell me, Ms. Robbins. In the heat of this sexual act, how is it that your husband managed to place a condom on his penis while he had you pinned down?”
“Do I need to answer,” June begged me.
“Your attorney is not asking you the question,” Pontrelli warned. “I am. She cannot help you. So let me ask you one more time. How is it that your husband managed to place a condom on his penis while he had you pinned down?”
“I did not want to get pregnant.”
“Go on.”
“And I asked him to put on a condom.”
“Where were the condoms?”
“In a drawer in the night stand.”
“So, let me understand. You testified that your husband had pulled down your underwear, that he was straddling you between your legs, that he was aroused, that he had you pinned down, that he was about to have intercourse with you, and then, and then, he stopped because you asked him to put on a condom.”
“Yes but….”
“Thank you, Ms. Robbins.”
Pontrelli again returned to his counsel table and flipped through his yellow pad of notes.
“Just a few more questions. You testified that after the incident, you and let me quote you.” Pontrelli hesitated, as he searched his notes, “you said ‘I must have blacked out because when I woke up, he was gone.’”
“That is right.”
“Did your husband come back that night?”
“No.”
“And after he left, what did you do?”
“I took a shower and went to bed.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
“I did.”
“But not right away. “
“I did the next day.”
“But Ms. Robbins. You have testified that your husband raped you. Yet you did not call the police that night.”
Helpless, I watched as June cried in her seat.
“For the record, your honor,” Pontrelli read from the police report, “let it show that Ms. Robbins placed a phone call to the police on June 13th, which is two calendar days after the alleged attack occurred.”
“Very well, counselor. The record is so noted.”
“So why did you wait two days?”
“I did not think it was so long.”
“Well, when someone cries rape, it is a crime. And it would seem that if a crime occurred, you would want the police to be involved sooner rather than later.”
“I was scared and I needed time to think.”
“Think about the story you were going to invent?”
“Objection,” I cried.
“Sustained,” the judge confirmed.
Pontrelli waltzed back to his counsel table. And, as if we were watching a play, the courtroom waited for him to recite his next line.
“Thank you, Ms. Robbins, I have nothing further. Ah, wait. I am sorry. I do have one more question. So do you still take the position that the sex was without your consent? And remember, you are still under oath,” Pontrelli asked as he turned his back on my client and faced the jury with a smile, anticipating June’s answer.
“I was scared. I saw fire in his eyes like I never saw before. And I was not strong enough to stop him. He could have hit me in the face and the marks would fade away, or he could have broken my nose and I would have healed. But what is going to take away my scars from when he raped me?”
“Your honor. Instruct the witness.”
June continued despite Pontrelli’s attempts to stop her.
“But I did not want to end up pregnant.”
“Your honor.”
June then shouted, “So, yes, I asked him to put a condom on. But that is all I asked him. But I did not ask for sex that night.”
“Thank you, Ms. Robbins.”
“Or when he raped me again.”
Pontrelli abruptly turned to face the witness.
“Raped you again. When did he rape you again?” he asked, surprised.
I looked at June, puzzled.
June took a deep breath and some color came back into her face. “He was angry. He kept texting me but I would not respond. And I kept getting calls from his father’s lawyer asking that I drop the case in exchange for some settlement. But I didn’t. And I received a check but I never cashed it. It was two weeks later. I had come home from grocery shopping. I put the key in the door but it was open and Steven was sitting on the couch. And he had that same look of fire in his eyes.”
“Your honor. Nothing further of this witness.”
“Sit down, Mr. Pontrelli,” Judge Faust ordered. “As you said earlier, we are in search of the truth. Ms. Robbins. Go on, Ms. Robbins.”
“He walked toward me and locked the door,” she continued. “And he pulled me by my hair into the bedroom.”
“Your honor. I object to any further questioning of this witness,” Pontrelli tried.
“Mr. Pontrelli, when you asked the witness the question, ‘when did he rape you again?’ you opened the door. The witness may continue. Go on Ms. Robbins, what happened next?”
“He threw me onto the bed and yanked down my pants and flipped me over. And,” June paused, “he pushed my legs apart and then he did it like a barn yard animal.”
“Your honor. I object,” Pontrelli protested.
“So noted,” said Judge Faust.”Go on.”
“I object,” Pontrelli tried again.
“Mr. Pontrelli,” the judge said with no patience in his voice. “Take your seat. And if I hear one more word out of you, I will hold you in contempt of court. Do you understand?”
“Your honor.”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Pontrelli slammed his yellow pad into the counsel table as he took his seat, realizing that he had made the most grievous tactical mistake an attorney can make; that is, asking a question when you are not sure of the answer. And for the briefest of moments, I actually felt sorry for my opponent.
&nbs
p; Chapter Thirty Three
Rarely does a defendant ever take the witness stand in his own defense, in order to prevent the district attorney from questioning him on cross examination. Likewise, by remaining silent, the defense attorney has the burden of weaving together all of the evidence that will lead to a conviction without any assistance from the defendant who allegedly committed the crime. As such, the old adage ‘it is better to say nothing than something’ is most applicable to criminal cases.
But even with June’s explosive testimony, and without the defendant’s testimony to refute it, that did not mean that Pontrelli was without other means of attack to bolster his client’s chances of gaining a dismissal. Instead, he employed a full arsenal of weapons as he paraded several witnesses over the next three days. Each one testified that that June was immoral, often jumping from bed to bed to satisfy her sexual desires. And as each witness recounted lurid stories of June’s past, my sole goal was to keep the jury focused on the facts of this case and not let them be clouded or confused by Pontrelli’s courtroom dramatics.
Finally, as Pontrelli was about to call his next witness, the judge asked both of us to approach the bench.
“Mr. Pontrelli,” he said.
“Yes, your honor,” Pontrelli replied.
“Who is your next witness?”
Flipping the page over on his yellow pad, Pontrelli answered “Mr. Andrew Milstein.”
“And, let me guess. He is going to testify that he briefly dated Ms. Robbins. And by the third date, there was an amalgamation of desire by both participants and they had sex. Is that right?”
“Not quite, your honor. It was the fourth date.”
“Whatever. I think, counsel, that this jury has had its fill of stories about Ms. Robbins. And unless you have another witness that could offer testimony that directly contradicts what Ms. Robbins said happened that night, I am going to ask that you rest.”
“But your honor. If I may?”
Pontrelli balked and argued his position. During their back and forth banter, I kept my mouth shut, as it appeared that Judge Faust was about to give me a break.
“Mr. Pontrelli, I will ask you one more time. Do you have such a witness who will unequivocally contradict what Ms. Robbins testified to?”
Pontrelli responded softly.
“No, but…”
“Very well. Counsel, please return to your seats.”
“Your honor. I want your decision noted for appeal.”
Against My Will Page 20
