The Lincoln Lawyer - Michael Connelly [125]
“I wouldn’t know that. I am not an expert in that field.”
“How about the pornographic videos? Did you write down the titles?”
“No, I did not. Again, I did not believe that it was pertinent to the investigation of who had brutally assaulted this woman.”
“Do you recall if the subject matter of any of the videos involved sadomasochism or bondage or anything of that nature?”
“No, I do not.”
“Now, did you instruct Ms. Campo to get rid of those tapes and the clothing from the closet before members of Mr. Roulet’s defense team could view the apartment?”
“I certainly did not.”
I checked that one off my list and moved on.
“Have you ever spoken to Mr. Roulet about what happened in Ms. Campo’s apartment that night?”
“No, he lawyered up before I got to him.”
“Do you mean he exercised his constitutional right to remain silent?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what he did.”
“So, as far as you know, he never spoke to the police about what happened.”
“That is correct.”
“In your opinion, was Ms. Campo struck with great force?”
“I would say so, yes. Her face was very badly cut and swollen.”
“Then please tell the jury about the impact injuries you found on Mr. Roulet’s hands.”
“He had wrapped a cloth around his fist to protect it. There were no injuries on his hands that I could see.”
“Did you document this lack of injury?”
Booker looked puzzled by the question.
“No,” he said.
“So you had Ms. Campo’s injuries documented by photographs but you didn’t see the need to document Mr. Roulet’s lack of injuries, correct?”
“It didn’t seem to me to be necessary to photograph something that wasn’t there.”
“How do you know he wrapped his fist in a cloth to protect it?”
“Ms. Campo told me she saw that his hand was wrapped right before he punched her at the door.”
“Did you find this cloth he supposedly wrapped his hand in?”
“Yes, it was in the apartment. It was a napkin, like from a restaurant. It had her blood on it.”
“Did it have Mr. Roulet’s blood on it?”
“No.”
“Was there anything that identified it as belonging to the defendant?”
“No.”
“So we have Ms. Campo’s word for it, right?”
“That’s right.”
I let some time pass while I scribbled a note on my pad. I then continued to question the detective.
“Detective, when did you learn that Louis Roulet denied assaulting or threatening Ms. Campo and that he would be vigorously defending himself against the charges?”
“That would have been when he hired you, I guess.”
There was a murmur of laughter in the courtroom.
“Did you pursue other explanations for Ms. Campo’s injuries?”
“No, she told me what happened. I believed her. He beat her and was going to—”
“Thank you, Detective Booker. Just try to answer the question I ask.”
“I was.”
“If you looked for no other explanation because you believed the word of Ms. Campo, is it safe to say that this whole case relies upon her word and what she said occurred in her apartment on the night of March sixth?”
Booker deliberated a moment. He knew I was leading him into a trap of his own words. As the saying goes, there is no trap so deadly as the one you set for yourself.
“It’s not just her word,” he said after thinking he saw a way out. “There is physical evidence. The knife. Her injuries. More than just her word on this.”
He nodded affirmatively.
“But doesn’t the state’s explanation for her injuries and the other evidence begin with her telling of what happened?”
“You could say that, yes,” he said reluctantly.
“She is the tree on which all of these fruits grow, is she not?”
“I probably wouldn’t use those words.”
“Then what words would you use, Detective?”
I had him now. Booker was literally squirming in his seat. Minton stood up and objected, saying I was badgering the witness. It must have been something he had seen on TV or in a movie. He was told to sit down by the judge.
“You can answer the question, Detective,” the judge said.
“What was the question?” Booker asked, trying to buy some time.
“You disagreed with me when I characterized Ms. Campo as the tree