"And that's why you kept this important information to yourself?" Allen asked with a scowl.
"Well, I should point out this isn't the first mention of this issue," Huttington said. "Myself and Mr. Barnhill met with Coach O'Toole and told him that we thought that the ACAA would be more lenient if he just admitted that he made a mistake. I was referring to his admission when we told him that. We at the university hoped all of this could be resolved so that with a lesson learned we could move on. He chose instead to deny the accusations."
"For the record, Your Honor," Zusskin said, rising from his chair. "We intend to call Mr. Barnhill to the stand and will stipulate that we expect his testimony will confirm what Mr. Huttington just said about the meeting with Mr. O'Toole."
The judge turned to Karp and Meyers. "Gentlemen, your response?"
"Just a moment, Your Honor," Karp said, and began whispering to Meyers, who nodded and smiled grimly. Reaching to the shelf behind him for the three-ring binder containing his deposition of Huttington, Meyers stood up. "May I approach the witness, Your Honor?"
"You may."
Meyers strode across the floor and nearly tossed the binder to Huttington. "Is this a copy of your deposition taken last February?" he asked without regard for formalities or manners.
Huttington made a show of opening the binder and leafing through several of the pages. Finally, he said, "Yes, it appears to be."
"Turn to the second-to-last page," Meyers continued.
Huttington did as told. He looked up and tried to smile at the jury, though to Karp it came off more as a grimace.
"Now look four lines from the top, which begins with me asking you a question," Meyers said. "You there?"
"Yes."
"I asked, 'Is there anything else you can think of that would be relevant or significant regarding this case? Something I might have missed or was omitted?' Is that an accurate reading of what I said?"
"Yes."
"You can skip Mr. Barnhill's response, but I then said, 'Mr. Huttington, I asked you a question. This is a deposition and you must answer my questions, even if your attorney objects. And do remember you're under oath.' Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"And you acknowledge here today, in front of this jury that you were under oath to tell the whole truth, just like you are today," Meyers said, letting his anger show.
"Yes," Huttington replied. "I was…I am…under oath."
"Yes, please remember that," Meyers said. "Now read the next line, which you addressed to Mr. Barnhill."
"I said, 'That's okay, Clyde, we have nothing to hide here.'"
"Nothing to hide," Meyers repeated. "So skip a couple of lines to your answer to my question, which was, 'Is there anything else you can think of that would be relevant or significant regarding this case? Something I might have missed or was omitted?'"
"I said, 'Uh, no, I can't think of anything to add that would be relevant or significant,' and then you asked if I was sure," the university president replied.
"Thank you for adding that," Meyers replied tightly. "And were you sure?"
Huttington nodded.
"The court reporter couldn't hear that, Mr. Huttington. Were you sure?"
"I said I was but that was because-" Huttington began to say, but was interrupted by Meyers.
"I didn't ask you to explain anything, as Mr. Zusskin likes to inform witnesses," the young attorney spat. "However, my next question to you is…wouldn't you think that a conversation with Coach Mikey O'Toole in which he admitted he'd made a mistake and had sponsored this party would be relevant or significant?"
"I suppose, but like I said, I was trying to protect him," Huttington replied.
"You suppose? You suppose it might be relevant or significant?" Meyers said, looking to the jury, some of whom had smiles on their faces as they watched the young attorney light into the witness, who was turning paler by the moment.
"Yes, in hindsight, I should not have tried to protect Coach O'Toole," Huttington replied.
"And maybe you should have answered honestly-since I 'suppose' you understood you were under oath-when asked if you could think of anything else that was relevant or significant," Meyers shot back.
"Objection," Zusskin said, trying to sound as if this was all making a mountain out of a molehill. "Counsel should save it for his closing arguments."
"And maybe counsel should warn his client about perjury," Meyers replied.
Allen rapped his gavel once. "Gentlemen, quit the sniping. The objection is overruled. However, if you have anything else to say, Mr. Meyers, please frame it as a question to the witness."
"Yes, Your Honor," Meyers said, and turned back to the witness stand. "So, Mr. Huttington, I believe a few minutes ago you told the jury that during this alleged meeting between you and Coach O'Toole at which he admitted he'd made a mistake, he also said he did it because he was desperate to sign Mr. Dalton and Mr. Mason because, and I believe I have the quote correct here, they were 'white, smart, and better team players compared to the "me-first, dumb-ass blacks" on his team.' Is that correct?"
"Yes, uh, that's approximately what he said," Huttington replied, looking desperately at Zusskin, who looked back without emotion.
Meyers moved closer to the witness stand but turned to face the jury when he said, "Such a vicious, malicious, terrible thing to say…and yet you made no mention of it when I asked you if you had anything relevant or significant to add to your deposition."
Huttington looked at the young attorney in front of him and shook his head, then shrugged. "I guess I wasn't…I don't know…I guess I wasn't…"
"What, Mr. Huttington, you guess you weren't telling the truth?" Meyers finished for him.
"Objection!" Zusskin thundered. "Counsel just asked and answered his own question!"
"Sustained," Allen replied mildly. "Mr. Meyers, please allow the witness to answer your questions for himself."
"Yes, thank you, Your Honor," Meyers replied. "All right then, Mr. Huttington, did you tell the truth when I asked you if there was anything relevant or significant to add to your deposition?"
"I…well, no," Huttington replied weakly.
"So why should the jury believe you're telling the truth now?"
Huttington looked at his lawyers, who were looking down at the defense table. "I don't know," he said.
"Neither do we. No further questions for this witness," Meyers retorted, and walked back to the plaintiff's table, where O'Toole and Karp greeted him with smiles.
After Huttington's testimony, Zusskin had called a representative of the ACAA to explain the rules and procedures governing complaints and hearings. It was largely fodder to take up time until the end of the day so that the defense could use the weekend to recoup and plan their counter on Monday, which would be highlighted with the testimony of investigator Jim Larkin.
As the spectators and the defense counsel filed out of the courtroom, Karp looked back and saw that there was one last spectator still standing in the pews. Coach J. C. Anderson looked at him, then shook his head and left. Same to you, Coach, he thought.
However, it turned out that he was wrong about Anderson. An hour later, as he was awaiting a call from Marlene, there was a knock on the door of his hotel room.
Opening the door, Karp found Anderson standing in the hall. Without saying anything, the old coach handed him a large envelope. Inside had been a tape cassette and a large sheaf of papers.
Karp had looked at the papers, which turned out to be a 135-page transcript of Larkin's interview with Steele Dalton and Michael Mason. "But how? Why?" he asked as he invited Anderson into the room.