Home>>read The Gods of Guilt free online

The Gods of Guilt(81)

By:Michael Connelly


“I see. So the hyoid bone in your neck was not crushed as it was with the victim of this case?”

“I don’t know about the specific injuries in this case.”

“Of course not. But you say you were choked into unconsciousness by the defendant and you never went to the police or to seek medical attention.”

“I was just happy to be alive.”

“And to work, too, correct?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“You went to work as an escort the same night after this supposed life-and-death struggle took place, didn’t you?”

“I don’t remember that.”

“If I produced Mr. La Cosse’s business records regarding his bookings for you as a prostitute, would that help you remember?”

“If I worked that night, it was only because he made me and threatened me if I didn’t.”

“Okay, let’s go back to the alleged incident. Did the defendant use one hand or two?”

“Both hands.”

“You’re a grown man, did you defend yourself?”

“I tried, but he’s a lot bigger than me.”

“You said you then woke up handcuffed to a pole. Where were you when he allegedly choked you into unconsciousness?”

“He grabbed me from behind as soon as I let him in the apartment.”

“So he choked you from behind then?”

“Yes, sort of.”

“What do you mean, ‘sort of’? Did he choke you or not?”

“He put his arm around my neck from behind and tightened it and I tried to fight because I thought he was going to kill me. But I blacked out.”

“So why did you just testify that he used two hands to choke you?”

“Well, ’cause he did. Hands and arms.”

I let that hang out there for a few moments for the jury to consider. I thought I had successfully dented Goodrich’s credibility in a few places. I decided I should get out while I was ahead and took one last shot in the dark. It was a calculated risk, but I operate under the belief that voluntary witnesses usually want something in return. In this case, Goodrich obviously wanted revenge, but I had a hunch there was something more.

“Mr. Goodrich, are you currently facing any criminal charges, misdemeanor or felony? Anything at all?”

Goodrich’s eyes flicked toward the prosecution table for a split second.

“In Los Angeles County? No.”

“In any county anywhere, Mr. Goodrich.”

Goodrich reluctantly revealed that he had a solicitation case pending in Orange County but denied he was testifying in exchange for help with that.

“No further questions,” I said, my voice dripping with disdain.

Forsythe tried to clean things up on redirect, hammering home that he had made no overture or promise to do anything to help Goodrich in Orange County.

Goodrich was allowed to step down after that. I felt I had gotten a few good swings in, but still, the damage was done. Through the witness the prosecution had added a history of similar actions to the solid pillars of motive and opportunity already established. Forsythe’s case was complete then and he rested it at four p.m. Friday, guaranteeing me a weekend of fitful sleep and panicked preparation.

Now it was Monday and it would soon be my turn in front of the jury. My task would be clear. To undo what Forsythe had done. To change the minds of the twelve jurors. In past trials my goal had been to change just one mind. In most cases, hanging a jury is as good as a not-guilty verdict. The DA often chooses not to retry and to soften its stance on a disposition. The case is a sick dog and it needs to be put down as quickly and as smoothly as possible. In the defense trenches that is a victory. But not this time. Not with Andre La Cosse. I was convinced that my client was many things but not a killer. I felt certain that he was innocent of the charges, and so I needed all twelve of the gods of guilt to smile upon me on the day of the verdict.

I sat at the defense table, waiting for the deputies to bring La Cosse in from lockup. Those of us in the courtroom had already been alerted that the bus carrying him from Men’s Central was delayed in traffic. Once the defendant arrived the judge would come out from chambers and the defense’s case would begin.

I passed the time by studying a page of notes I had jotted down for my opening statement. I had reserved the opener at the start of the trial, exercising my option to address the jury before the presentation of the defense. This is often a risky move because it means the jurors may go several days before hearing any sort of counterargument to the prosecution’s theory of the case and presentation of evidence.

Forsythe gave his opening statement to the jury twelve days earlier. So much time had passed, it would seem that the state’s side was deeply and unalterably entrenched in the minds of the twelve. But I also felt that the jurors had to be dying to finally hear something from the defense, to hear the response to Forsythe, the video, and the scientific and physical evidence. They would start to get all of that today.