With Trammel in place on the witness stand, Freeman went to the lectern carrying a thick document with crisp edges and one pink Post-it sticking out of the pages. I thought it was a prop, designed to distract me, and paid it no mind. She started things off with what I call setup questions. These were designed to get a witness’s answers on the record before they were proven false. I could see the trap forming but wasn’t sure where the net was going to fall.
“Now, you testified yesterday that you did not know Mitchell Bondurant, is that correct?”
“Yes, correct.”
“You never met him?”
“Never.”
“Never spoke to him?”
“Never.”
“But you tried to meet him and speak to him, right?”
“Yes, I went to the bank twice to try to meet him to talk about my home, but he wouldn’t see me.”
“Do you remember when you made those efforts?”
“They were last year. But I don’t remember the exact dates.”
Freeman then seemed to shift directions, but I knew it was all part of a careful plan.
She asked Trammel a series of seemingly innocuous questions about her FLAG organization and its purpose. Much of this had already been touched on during my direct examination. I still couldn’t see the play. I glanced over at the document with the bright pink Post-it and started to believe it was no prop. Maggie had told me yesterday that Freeman was working the night shift. Now I knew why. She had obviously found something. I leaned across the defense table in the direction of the witness stand, as if being closer to the source would speed the arrival of understanding.
“And you have a website that you use to support the efforts of FLAG, don’t you?” Freeman asked.
“Yes,” Trammel replied. “California Foreclosure Fighters dot com.”
“And you are also on Facebook, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
I could tell by the timid, cautious way in which my client said that one word that this was where the trap was set. It was the first I’d heard of Lisa on Facebook.
“For those on the jury who might not know, what exactly is Facebook, Ms. Trammel?”
I leaned back in my chair and surreptitiously pulled my phone. I quickly tapped out a text to Bullocks telling her to drop whatever she was doing and see what she could find out about Lisa’s Facebook page. See what’s there, I said.
“Well, it’s a networking site and it lets me stay in touch with people involved in FLAG. I post updates on what is happening. I tell them where we are going to meet or march, things like that. People can set it up so they get automatic notifications on their phone or computer whenever I put a post on there. It has been very useful in our organizing.”
“You can post on your Facebook page right from your phone, too, correct?”
“Yes, I can.”
“And this digital location where you make these posts is called your ‘wall,’ correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you have used your wall to do more than just send out messages about protest marches, haven’t you?”
“Sometimes.”
“You gave regular updates on your own foreclosure case as well, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I wanted it to be like a personal journal of a foreclosure.”
“Did you also use Facebook to alert the media to your activities?”
“Yes, that too.”
“So in order to receive this information someone would have to sign up as a friend, correct?”
“Yes, that’s how it works. People who want to friend me make the request, I accept them and then they have access to my wall.”
“How many friends do you have?”
I didn’t know where this was going but I knew it wasn’t going to be good. I stood and objected, telling the judge that it appeared we were on a fishing expedition with no defined purpose or relevance. Freeman promised that relevance would become clear very soon and Perry let her go on.
“You can answer the question,” he said to Trammel.
“Um, I think… well, last time I checked I had over a thousand.”
“When did you first join Facebook?”
“Last year. I think it was in July or August when I filed papers for FLAG and started the website. I did it all at once.”
“So let’s make this very clear. As far as the website goes, anybody with a computer and the Internet has access, correct?”
“Right.”
“But your Facebook page is a little more private and personal. To gain access a person has to be accepted by you as a friend. Is that correct?”
“Yes, but I generally friend anybody who asks. I don’t know them all because there are too many. I just assume they’ve heard about our good work and are interested. I don’t turn anybody down. That’s how I got to a thousand in less than a year.”
“Okay, and you have been making regular posts on your wall since you joined Facebook, correct?”
“Pretty regular, yes.”
“In fact you’ve posted updates on this trial, have you not?”
“Yes, just my opinion of things.”
I could feel my temperature rising. My suit was beginning to feel like it was made of plastic and was trapping my body heat inside. I wanted to loosen my tie but knew if a juror saw such a move during this questioning, it would send a disastrous signal.
“Now, can anyone go on the page and post a message under your name?”
“No, just me. People can respond and make their own posts, but not under my name.”
“How many posts would you say you’ve put on your wall since last summer?”
“I have no idea. A lot.”
Freeman held up the thick document with the Post-it sticking out.
“Would you believe that you have posted more than twelve hundred times on your wall?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do. I have every one of your posts printed right here. Your Honor, may I approach the witness with this document?”
Before the judge could respond I asked for a sidebar. Perry waved us up. Freeman brought the thick document with her.
“Your Honor, what’s going on?” I said. “I have the same objection I did yesterday to the prosecution’s deliberate avoidance of discovery. There has been nothing about this previously, and now she wants to introduce twelve hundred Facebook posts? Come on, Judge, this isn’t right.”
“There has been nothing in discovery because this Facebook account was unknown until last night.”
“Judge, if you believe that, I have some property west of Malibu I’d like to sell you.”
“Judge, yesterday afternoon my office came into possession of a printout of all posts made by the defendant to her Facebook page. I was pointed to a set of posts from last September that are relevant to this case and the defendant’s own testimony. If I can be allowed to proceed this will become very obvious, even to counsel.”
“ ‘Came into possession’?” I said. “What’s that mean? Judge, you have to be an invited friend to see my client’s Facebook wall. If the government engaged in subter-”
“It was given to me by a member of the media who is friends with the defendant on Facebook,” Freeman interjected. “There was no subterfuge. But its source should not be at issue here. Res ipsa loquitur-the document speaks for itself, Judge, and I am sure the defendant can identify her own Facebook posts for the jury. Counsel is simply engaged in trying to prevent the jurors from seeing what he knows is evidence of his client’s-”
“Judge, I have no idea what she’s even talking about. The first I heard about a Facebook page was during her cross. Counsel’s view of-”
“Very well, Ms. Freeman,” Perry interrupted. “Give her the document but get to the point quickly.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
As I sat back down I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it and read the text under the table and out of the judge’s view. It was from Bullocks and she simply said she had access to Lisa’s Facebook wall and was working on my request. I typed with one hand, telling her to check the posts from September, then pocketed the phone.