The Fifth Witness - Michael Connelly [95]
“Why don’t we start with you telling us about your movements today?” Kurlen asked next.
“Starting when?” Trammel responded.
“How about with the moment you woke up?”
Trammel outlined her early morning routine of waking and preparing her son for school, then driving him there. The boy attended a private school and the drive usually ranged from twenty to forty minutes depending on traffic. She said she stopped after the drop-off to get coffee and then she went back home.
“You told us at your home you didn’t make any stops. Now you stopped for coffee?”
“I guess I forgot.”
“Where?”
“A place called Joe’s Joe on Ventura.”
A veteran interrogator, Kurlen abruptly went in a new direction, keeping his quarry off guard.
“Did you go by WestLand National this morning?”
“No. Is that what this is about?”
“So if someone said they saw you there, they would be lying?”
“Yes, who said that? I have not violated the order. You—”
“Do you know Mitchell Bondurant?”
“Know him? No. I know of him. I know who he is. But I don’t know him.”
“Did you see him today?”
Trammel paused here and this was detrimental to her cause. On the video, you could see the wheels working. She was considering whether to tell the truth. I glanced at the jury. I didn’t see one face that wasn’t turned up toward the screens.
“Yes, I saw him.”
“But you just said you didn’t go on WestLand property.”
“I didn’t. Look, I don’t know who told you they saw me at the bank. And if it was him then he’s a liar. I wasn’t there. I saw him, yes, but that was at the coffee shop, not the—”
“Why didn’t you tell us that this morning at your home?”
“Tell you what? You didn’t ask.”
“Have you changed clothes since this morning?”
“What?”
“Did you change clothes this morning after you got back home?”
“Look, what is this? You asked me to come down to talk and this is some sort of setup. I have not violated the order. I—”
“Did you attack Mitchell Bondurant?”
“What?”
Kurlen didn’t answer. He just stared at Trammel as her mouth came open in a perfect O. I checked the jury. All eyes were still on the screens. I hoped they saw what I saw. Genuine shock on my client’s face.
“Is that—Mitchell Bondurant was attacked? Is he all right?”
“No, actually, he’s dead. And at this point I want to advise you of your constitutional rights.”
Kurlen read Trammel the Miranda rights warning and Trammel said the magic words, the smartest four words to ever come out of her mouth.
“I want my attorney.”
That ended the interview and the video concluded with Kurlen placing Trammel under arrest for murder. And that was how Freeman ended Kurlen’s testimony. She surprised me by abruptly saying she was finished with the witness and then sitting down. She still had the search of my client’s house to cover with the jury. And the hammer. But it looked like she wouldn’t be using Kurlen for these.
It was 11:45 and the judge broke for an early lunch. That gave me an hour and fifteen minutes to make final preparations for Kurlen. Once more we were about to do the jury dance.
Twenty-seven
I stepped over to the lectern carrying two thick files and my trusty legal pad. The files were superfluous to my cross-examination but my hope was that they would make an impressive prop. I took my time organizing everything on top of the lectern. I wanted Kurlen to dangle. My plan was to treat him in the same manner he had treated my client. Bobbing and weaving, jabbing with the left when he was expecting the right, a hit-and-run mission.
Freeman had made the smart play, breaking up the testimony between the partners. I wouldn’t get the chance to make a cohesive attack on the case through just Kurlen. I would have to deal with him now and his partner Longstreth much later. Case choreography was one of Freeman’s strong points and she was showing it here.
“Anytime, Mr. Haller,” the judge prompted.