“Do you recognize the defendant in this case?”
Corliss looked over at Roulet and nodded.
“Yes, I do.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I met him in lockup after I got arrested.”
“You are saying that after you were arrested you came into close proximity to the defendant, Louis Roulet?”
“Yes, the next day.”
“How did that happen?”
“Well, we were both in Van Nuys jail but in different wards. Then, when we got bused over here to the courts, we were together, first in the bus and then in the tank and then when we were brought into the courtroom for first appearance. We were together all of that time.”
“When you say ‘together,’ what do you mean?”
“Well, we sort of stuck close because we were the only white guys in the group we were in.”
“Now, did you talk at all while you were together for all of that time?”
Corliss nodded his head and at the same time Roulet shook his. I touched my client’s arm to caution him to make no demonstrations.
“Yes, we talked,” Corliss said.
“About what?”
“Mostly about cigarettes. We both needed them but they don’t let you smoke in the jail.”
Corliss made a what-are-you-going-to-do gesture with both hands and a few of the jurors—probably smokers—smiled and nodded.
“Did you reach a point where you asked Mr. Roulet what got him into jail?” Minton asked.
“Yes, I did.”
“What did he say?”
I quickly stood up and objected but just as quickly was overruled.
“What did he tell you, Mr. Corliss?” Minton prompted.
“Well, first he asked me why I was there and I told him. So then I asked him why he was in and he said, ‘For giving a bitch exactly what she deserved.’”
“Those were his words?”
“Yes.”
“Did he elaborate further on what he meant by that?”
“No, not really. Not on that.”
I leaned forward, waiting for Minton to ask the next obvious question. But he didn’t. He moved on.
“Now, Mr. Corliss, have you been promised anything by me or the district attorney’s office in return for your testimony?”
“Nope. I just thought it was the right thing to do.”
