“Very well, let’s proceed,” the judge said, “I will adjourn for the day fifteen minutes early so that we can fashion the order to appear.”
We returned to our positions and I looked at Fulgoni, waiting for me on the witness stand. He had so far come off as cool, calm, and collected. I was about to change that and take him in a direction we had not discussed or rehearsed in the days building up to the trial.
“Mr. Fulgoni,” I began, “how much of this gun-planting theory did Gloria Dayton confirm for you?”
“None,” Fulgoni said. “I subpoenaed her for a deposition but she was murdered before I ever spoke to her.”
I nodded and looked down at my notes.
“And how long have you been practicing law?”
The abrupt change in direction surprised young Sly.
“Uh, two and a half years next month.”
“And have you been involved in a trial before?”
“You mean in court?”
I almost laughed out loud. If Fulgoni had not been my own witness, I would have destroyed him with that answer. As it was, I needed to damn near leave him for dead before I was finished with my direct.
“Yes, in court,” I said drily.
“None so far. But I know lawyers who say the object is to stay out of the courtroom and to take care of business before it comes to that.”
“Viewing it from where I stand now, that’s not bad advice, Mr. Fulgoni. Can you tell the jury how you, just two years out of law school and never in a courtroom before, landed Hector Moya as a client?”
Fulgoni nodded.
“He was a referral.”
“From whom?”
“My father, actually.”
“And how did that come about?”
Fulgoni gave me a look that I interpreted as a warning that I was crossing into a territory that he had deemed off-limits when we had last discussed his testimony. I gave him a look back that said too fucking bad. I have you under oath. I own you.
I had to prompt him to answer.
“Please tell the jury how your father came to refer Mr. Moya to you.”
“Uh, well, my father is incarcerated in the same federal prison where Hector is. They know each other, and my father referred him to me.”
“Okay, so you took on the case two years out of law school and filed the habeas petition, hoping to have Mr. Moya’s life sentence vacated, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Because the firearm that got him that life sentence was planted.”
“Yes.”
“And you believed it was planted by Gloria Dayton, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Based on what Trina Rafferty told you.”
“Correct.”
“And before filing this habeas petition, did you study the transcript from Mr. Moya’s trial in 2006?”
“Most of it, yes.”
“Did you read the transcript of the sentencing hearing when the judge sent him to life in prison?”
“I did, yes.”
I asked the judge to allow me to approach the witness with a document I entered as the second defense exhibit, the transcript of Hector Moya’s sentencing on November 4, 2006.
The judge approved and I came forward to hand the document to Fulgoni. It was already folded back to a page with highlighted material I wanted him to read to the jury.
“What is that you have there, Mr. Fulgoni?”
“It’s the transcript from the sentencing hearing in federal court. It’s the judge’s comments.”
“Is that what you read when you were preparing to file the habeas on Mr. Moya’s behalf?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. What is the judge’s name?”
“The Honorable Lisa Bass.”
“Can you please read to the jury the quotes from Judge Bass that I have highlighted on the page?”
Fulgoni leaned forward and began reading.
“‘Mr. Moya, the presentencing report on you is abysmal. You have conducted a life full of crime, attaining a high rank in the murderous Sinaloa Cartel. You are a cold and violent man and you have lost all aspects of humanity. You sell death. You are death. And it is my good fortune to be able to sentence you to life in prison today. I wish I could do more. To be honest, I wish you were eligible for the death penalty because I would have used it.’”
He stopped there. The judge’s comments continued but I figured that the jury had a good enough taste of them.
“Okay, so you read that sentencing transcript sometime last year as you prepared the habeas petition on Mr. Moya’s behalf, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Therefore, you knew when you prepared the subpoena for Gloria Dayton what kind of history Mr. Moya had, correct?”
“Yes.”
“So then, Mr. Fulgoni, did it ever cross your mind as a young, inexperienced attorney that it might be dangerous to subpoena Gloria Dayton to a deposition in which you would undoubtedly ask her about planting the gun in Hector Moya’s hotel room?”