“That will be for the jury to decide, won’t it?”
“Yes.”
“And this knife you supposedly got for your own protection. Are you telling this jury that the victim in this case somehow knew you had a knife and used it as part of the setup?”
“I don’t know what she knew. I had never shown the knife to her or in a bar where she would have been. So I don’t see how she could have known about it. I think that when she went into my pocket for the money she found the knife. I always keep my knife and money in the same pocket.”
“Oh, so now you have her stealing money out of your pocket as well. When does this end with you, Mr. Roulet?”
“I had four hundred dollars with me. When I was arrested it was gone. Someone took it.”
Rather than try to pinpoint Roulet on the money, Minton was wise enough to know that no matter how he handled it, he would be facing a break-even proposition at best. If he tried to make a case that Roulet never had the money and that his plan was to attack and rape Campo rather than pay her, then he knew I would trot out Roulet’s tax returns, which would throw serious doubt on the idea that he couldn’t afford to pay a prostitute. It was an avenue of testimony commonly referred to by lawyers as a “cluster fuck” and he was staying away. He moved on to his finish.
In dramatic style Minton held up the evidence photo of Regina Campo’s beaten and bruised face.
“So Regina Campo is a liar,” he said.
“Yes.”
“She had this done to her or maybe even did it herself.”
“I don’t know who did it.”
“But not you.”
“No, it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do that to a woman. I wouldn’t hurt a woman.”
Roulet pointed to the photo Minton had continued to hold up.
“No woman deserves that,” he said.
I leaned forward and waited. Roulet had just said the line I had told him to somehow find a way of putting into one of his answers during testimony.No woman deserves that. It was now up to Minton to take the bait. He was smart. He had to understand that Roulet had just opened a door.
“What do you mean bydeserves?Do you think crimes of violence come down to a matter of whether a victim gets what they deserve?”
“No. I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that no matter what she does for a living, she shouldn’t have been beaten like that. Nobody deserves to have that happen to them.”
Minton brought down the arm that held the photo. He looked at it himself for a moment and then looked back up at Roulet.
“Mr. Roulet, I have nothing more to ask you.”
Thirty-seven
Istill felt that I was winning the razor fight. I had done everything possible to maneuver Minton into a position in which he had only one choice. It was now time to see if doing everything possible had been enough. After the young prosecutor sat down, I chose not to ask my client another question. He had held up well under Minton’s attack and I felt the wind was in our sails. I stood up and looked back at the clock on the upper rear wall of the courtroom. It was only three-thirty. I then looked back at the judge.
“Your Honor, the defense rests.”
She nodded and looked over my head at the clock. She told the jury to take the mid-afternoon break. Once the jurors were out of the courtroom, she looked at the prosecution table where Minton had his head down and was writing.
“Mr. Minton?”
The prosecutor looked up.
“We’re still in session. Pay attention. Does the state have rebuttal?”
Minton stood.
“Your Honor, I would ask that we adjourn for the day so that the state has time to consider rebuttal witnesses.”
