Freeman gave Trammel the printout and had her verify the most recent posts as coming from her Facebook wall.
“Thank you, Ms. Trammel. Could you now go to the page I have marked with the Post-it?”
Lisa reluctantly did as instructed.
“You will see that I have highlighted a series of three of your posts from last September seventh. Could you please read the first one to the jury, including the time of the posting?”
“Um, one forty-six. ‘I am heading into WestLand to see Bondurant. This time I’m not taking no for an answer.’ ”
“Now, you just pronounced the name Bondurant but it is misspelled, is it not, in the post?”
“Yes.”
“How is it spelled in your post?”
“B-O-N-D-U-R-U-N-T.”
“Bondurunt. I notice that the name is spelled that way on all posts in which he is mentioned. Was that intentional or a mistake?”
“He was taking away my house.”
“Could you please answer the question?”
“Yes, it was intentional. I called him Bondurunt because he was not a good man.”
I could feel the sweat moving through my hair. The hidden Lisa was about to come out.
“Could you please read the next highlighted post? With the time.”
“Two eighteen. ‘They wouldn’t let me see him again. So unfair.’ ”
“And now please read the next post and time?”
“Two twenty-one. ‘Found his spot. I’m going to wait for him in the garage.’ ”
The quiet in the courtroom was as loud as a train.
“Ms. Trammel, did you wait for Mitchell Bondurant in the parking garage at WestLand National on September seventh of last year?”
“Yes, but not that long. I realized it was dumb and he wouldn’t even be out until the end of the day. So I left.”
“Did you go back to that garage and wait for him on the morning of his murder?”
“No, I didn’t! I wasn’t there.”
“You saw him in the coffee shop, you became enraged and knew just where he would be, didn’t you? You went to the garage and waited for him and then-”
“Objection!” I yelled.
“-you killed him with the hammer, didn’t you?”
“No! No! No!” Trammel yelled. “I didn’t do it!”
She burst into tears, loudly moaning like some kind of cornered animal.
“Your Honor, objection! She’s badgering the-”
Perry seemed to snap out of some reverie as he watched Trammel.
“Sustained!”
Freeman stopped. The courtroom was again silent except for the sound of my client sobbing. The courtroom deputy came over with a box of tissues and Lisa’s tears finally subsided.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Freeman finally said. “I have no further questions.”
I asked for an early morning break so my client could compose herself and I’d have time to decide whether to continue on redirect. The judge granted the request, probably because he felt sorry for me.
Lisa’s tears did not undercut the fact that Freeman had been masterful in setting her trap. But all was not lost. The best thing about a setup defense is that almost every piece of damning evidence or testimony-even when it comes from your own client-can become part of the setup.
After the jury was led out I walked up to the witness stand to console my client. I pulled two tissues out of the box and handed them to her. She took them and started dabbing her eyes. I cupped my hand over the microphone to avoid broadcasting our conversation across the courtroom. I tried my best to control my tone.
“Lisa, why the hell am I finding out about Facebook now? Do you have any idea what this could do to our case?”
“I thought you knew! I friended Jennifer.”
“My Jennifer?”
“Yes!”
Nothing like having both your junior associate and your client know more than you.
“But what about these posts from September? Do you know how damaging they are?”
“I’m sorry! I totally forgot about them. They were so long ago.”
It looked like another cascade of tears was coming. I tried to head it off.
“Well, we’re lucky. We might be able to make this work for us.”
She stopped dabbing at her face with the tissue and looked at me.
“Really?”
“Maybe. But I need to go outside and call Bullocks.”
“Who’s Bullocks?”
“Sorry, it’s what we call Jennifer. You sit tight and pull yourself together.”
“Am I going to be asked more questions?”
“Yes. I want to do some redirect.”
“Then can I go fix my face?”
“That’s a good idea. Just don’t take long.”
I finally got out to the hallway and called Bullocks at the office.
“Did you see the entries on September seventh?” I asked by way of a greeting.
“Just saw them. If Freeman-”
“She already did.”
“Shit!”
“Yeah, well, it was bad but there might be a way out. Lisa said you’re her friend on Facebook?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry. I knew she had a page. It never occurred to me to go back and look at previous posts on her wall.”
“We’ll talk about it later. Right now, I need to know if you have access to her list of friends.”
“I’m looking at it right now.”
“Okay, first I want you to print out all the names, give them to Lorna and have Rojas drive her over here with them. Right away. Then I want you and Cisco to start working the names yourselves, find out who these people are.”
“There’s more than a thousand. You want us to run them all down?”
“If you have to. I’m looking for a connection to Opparizio.”
“Opparizio? Why would-”
“Trammel was a threat to him, just like she was a threat to the bank. She was protesting fraud in foreclosure. The fraud was being committed by Opparizio’s company. We know through Herb Dahl that she was on Opparizio’s radar. It stands to reason that somebody in that company was checking on her through Facebook. Lisa just testified that she accepted anybody who asked to friend her. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a name we know.”
There was a silence and then Bullocks tumbled to what I was thinking.
“By tracking her on Facebook they would know what she was up to.”
“And they could have known that at one time she waited for Bondurant in the garage.”
“And then they could have constructed his murder around that record.”
“Bullocks, I hate to tell you this but you’re thinking like a defense lawyer.”
“We’ll get right on this.”
I could hear the urgency in her voice.
“Good, but first print that list and get it over to me. I start redirect in about fifteen minutes. Tell Lorna to walk it right in to me. Then if you and Cisco find something, text it to me right away.”
“You got it.”
Forty-two
Freeman was still swelling with pride over her morning victory when I got back to the courtroom. She sauntered over, folded her arms and leaned her hip against the defense table.
“Haller, tell me that was just an act, you not knowing about the Facebook page.”
“Sorry, I can’t tell you that.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Uh-oh, sounds like somebody needs a client who isn’t hiding things… or maybe a new investigator who can find them.”
I ignored the taunt, hoping she would stop gloating and go back to her table. I started flipping through the pages of a legal pad, pretending I was looking for something.
“That was like manna from heaven last night when I got that printout and read those posts.”
“You must’ve been very pleased with yourself. Which asshole reporter gave it to you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”