The Fifth Witness - Michael Connelly [142]
“Yes,” Trammel replied. “California Foreclosure Fighters dot com.”
“And you are also on Facebook, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
I could tell by the timid, cautious way in which my client said that one word that this was where the trap was set. It was the first I’d heard of Lisa on Facebook.
“For those on the jury who might not know, what exactly is Facebook, Ms. Trammel?”
I leaned back in my chair and surreptitiously pulled my phone. I quickly tapped out a text to Bullocks telling her to drop whatever she was doing and see what she could find out about Lisa’s Facebook page. See what’s there, I said.
“Well, it’s a networking site and it lets me stay in touch with people involved in FLAG. I post updates on what is happening. I tell them where we are going to meet or march, things like that. People can set it up so they get automatic notifications on their phone or computer whenever I put a post on there. It has been very useful in our organizing.”
“You can post on your Facebook page right from your phone, too, correct?”
“Yes, I can.”
“And this digital location where you make these posts is called your ‘wall,’ correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you have used your wall to do more than just send out messages about protest marches, haven’t you?”
“Sometimes.”
“You gave regular updates on your own foreclosure case as well, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I wanted it to be like a personal journal of a foreclosure.”
“Did you also use Facebook to alert the media to your activities?”
“Yes, that too.”
“So in order to receive this information someone would have to sign up as a friend, correct?”
“Yes, that’s how it works. People who want to friend me make the request, I accept them and then they have access to my wall.”
“How many friends do you have?”
I didn’t know where this was going but I knew it wasn’t going to be good. I stood and objected, telling the judge that it appeared we were on a fishing expedition with no defined purpose or relevance. Freeman promised that relevance would become clear very soon and Perry let her go on.
“You can answer the question,” he said to Trammel.
“Um, I think… well, last time I checked I had over a thousand.”
“When did you first join Facebook?”
“Last year. I think it was in July or August when I filed papers for FLAG and started the website. I did it all at once.”
“So let’s make this very clear. As far as the website goes, anybody with a computer and the Internet has access, correct?”
“Right.”
“But your Facebook page is a little more private and personal. To gain access a person has to be accepted by you as a friend. Is that correct?”
“Yes, but I generally friend anybody who asks. I don’t know them all because there are too many. I just assume they’ve heard about our good work and are interested. I don’t turn anybody down. That’s how I got to a thousand in less than a year.”
“Okay, and you have been making regular posts on your wall since you joined Facebook, correct?”
“Pretty regular, yes.”
“In fact you’ve posted updates on this trial, have you not?”
“Yes, just my opinion of things.”
I could feel my temperature rising. My suit was beginning to feel like it was made of plastic and was trapping my body heat inside. I wanted to loosen my tie but knew if a juror saw such a move during this questioning, it would send a disastrous signal.
“Now, can anyone go on the page and post a message under your name?”
“No, just me. People can respond and make their own posts, but not under my name.”
“How many posts would you say you’ve put on your wall since last summer?”
“I have no idea. A lot.”
Freeman held up the thick document with the Post-it sticking out.
“Would you believe that you have posted more than twelve hundred times on your wall?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do. I have every one of your posts printed right here. Your Honor, may I approach the witness with this document?”
Before the judge could respond I asked for a sidebar. Perry waved us up. Freeman brought the thick document with her.
“Your Honor, what’s going on?” I said. “I have the same objection