"Yes."
"And Mr. Mann sent you bills for his services."
"At my request. I didn't want him to make a gift of his services, for many reasons."
"You get what you pay for?" Sandy asks.
My father smiles and nods. The judge reminds him to answer aloud, and my dad says yes.
"And calling your attention to People's Exhibit 22, is that the latter invoice he sent you September 2008?" It comes up on the screen at that moment.
"Yes."
"And it's addressed to you at your home address in Nearing, correct?"
"It is."
"Is that how you received that bill-at home?"
"No, what I received was an e-mailed copy. I'd asked that all correspondence be by e-mail to my personal account."
"But you paid that invoice, People's 22, is that right?"
"Yes. I made two ATM withdrawals and bought a cashier's check at the bank."
"What bank was that?"
"First Kindle in Nearing."
"And this is the cashier's check you sent, People's 23, correct?"
"Correct." It comes up on the screen. In the memo section is the invoice number and the words "9/4/08 Consultation."
"And again, Rusty, you sent a cashier's check, rather than a personal check, for what reason?"
"So I didn't have to tell Barbara that I'd seen Dana, or why."
"Very well," says Stern. He shoots just a tiny glance toward Tommy, to let him know that he'd picked up on yesterday's imitations.
"And finally, calling your attention to People's Exhibit 24, which was also admitted during Mr. Mann's testimony. What is that?"
"That's a receipt for my payment."
"And again, it's addressed to your home in Nearing. Is that how you received it?"
"No, I received it by e-mail."
"Now, Rusty, all of these exhibits that you received by e-mail-People's 22, 23, 24, and two confirmations of your appointments-all those records were deleted from your personal computer. Is that right?"
"I heard Dr. Gorvetich's testimony to that effect."
"Did you delete those e-mails?"
"It makes sense, Mr. Stern, that I would have done that, because, as I testified, I did not want Barbara to know about my visits with Dana until I was sure I was going to proceed with a divorce. But my best recollection is that I didn't do that. And I know for certain that I never downloaded any shredding software to my computer."
"And you never discussed with Mrs. Sabich those visits to Mr. Mann or the fact that you were contemplating divorce?"
"No."
Stern leans down to speak to Marta. Finally, he tells the judge, "Nothing further."
Yee nods to Molto, who springs up like a jack-in-the-box.
"Judge, as to your theory that your wife killed herself by taking an overdose of phenelzine. Are there any fingerprints of hers on the bottle of phenelzine that was in her medicine cabinet?"
"No."
"Whose fingerprints are on that vial, Judge?"
"Mine," my father says.
"Only yours, correct?"
"Correct."
"And the websites about phenelzine-they were visited on whose computer in late September 2008?"
"Mine."
"Was your wife's computer also forensically examined?"
"As Dr. Gorvetich testified."
"Any searches about phenelzine on her computer?"
"None that were identified."
"And about this idea that your wife killed herself, Judge. For twenty years, from 1988 to 2008, she made no attempts on her life, right?"
"To the best of my knowledge."
"And in late September 2008, had anything with Mrs. Sabich changed, so far as you know?"
My dad looks hard at Tommy Molto. I don't know exactly what's happened, but this is clearly a moment my father has been waiting for.
"Yes, Mr. Molto," says my father, "there had been a significant change."
Tommy looks as though he's been slapped. He asked a question he thought was safe and walked off a cliff instead. Molto glances at Brand, who below the prosecution table opens his palm and lowers his hand an inch. Sit down, he's telling Tommy. Don't make it worse.
That's what Tommy does. He says, "Nothing further," and Judge Yee tells my father to step down. My dad closes his coat and slowly descends the three stairs from the witness stand. He looks like a proud soldier, shoulders back, head high, eyes forward. However impossible it might have seemed late yesterday, my dad suddenly seems to have won.
CHAPTER 32
Nat, June 23, 2009 Judge Yee tells Sandy to call his next witness, and Marta springs up and calls Rosa Belanquez, who proves to be a customer service representative at my parents' bank.
Mrs. Belanquez is a pretty woman in her thirties, a little round and nicely put together for her moment in the big time. There is a small cross at her throat and a tiny diamond on her ring finger. She is America, the good America, a woman who probably came here or whose parents did, who worked hard and for whom the right things happened, a solid job in the bank, some success, a little money, enough to help her family, whom she raises the way she was raised, to work hard, to do the right things, to love God and one another. She is a real nice lady. You can see it just in the way she settles herself on the stand and smiles at Marta.
"Calling your attention to September 23, 2008, did you have any occasion to have a conversation with a woman who identified herself to you as Barbara Sabich?"
I do the math. September 23, 2008, was the Tuesday before my mother died.
"I did."
"And what did Mrs. Sabich say and what did you say?"
Jim Brand, big and solid, wearing a heavy plaid suit in the dead of summer, stands up and objects, "Hearsay."
"Judge," says Marta, "none of this will be for the truth. Only to show knowledge."
Judge Yee nods. Marta is claiming that the defense is not attempting to use my mom's statements to prove that anything she said is actually true, just that she said them.
"One answer at a time," he says. He means he'll rule on the hearsay objection with each answer, an advantage for the defense, who will get to trot all of this out for the jury, even if the judge ultimately decides it shouldn't have been heard.
"First of all," says Marta, "did Mrs. Sabich have anything with her?"
"Mrs. Sabich had a receipt from a lawyer's office."
"Calling your attention to what has been marked and admitted as People's Exhibit 24, do you recognize that document?" The receipt from Dana Mann's office, which was on the screen a few minutes ago at the end of my dad's testimony, reappears there.
"That was the receipt that Mrs. Sabich had."
"And did Mrs. Sabich tell you how she had received it?"
"Objection, hearsay," says Brand.
Marta gives him a simpering frown but withdraws the question.
"All right," she says. "Do you recall how Mrs. Sabich produced the receipt?"
"She had it in an envelope."
"What kind of envelope?"
"Standard commercial window envelope."
"Do you remember if there was a stamp on it?"
"Pitney Bowes, I think."
"Did you see any return address on the envelope?"
"How it was," says Mrs. Belanquez, "was she handed me the envelope and I took out the receipt. It was from the mail. You could see."
Brand stands up to object again. Molto puts his hand on his sleeve, and Brand sits down without a word. Tommy doesn't want it to look as though the prosecutors are hiding something. More than his boss, Brand is inclined to fight even the facts that are obvious. Prima Dana's office fucked up and mailed a receipt to my parents' home for the invoice my dad had paid, and my mom, who ordinarily handled all the bills, opened the envelope and went to the bank, trying to figure out what was going on.
"Now tell us, please, about the conversation you had with Mrs. Sabich."
"There's a cashier's check number on the receipt." Mrs. Belanquez has revolved in the chair and is pointing at the screen beside her. "She wanted to know if that was our number. I said I thought so, but I had to see. I went and looked at the record, and then I told her that I needed to talk to the manager."