“Go on, Mr. Adler,” the prosecutor said.
“So, I guess she didn’t stop firing until there was nothing left to fire. I say that because I remember hearing a few dry clicks. Like there were no bullets left, but she was still pulling the trigger. And Mr. Velez was on the ground, and there was a lot of blood, more and more the longer he lay there, but she was still aiming the gun down at him and pulling the trigger. Click, click, click. And I thought . . . Oh, right. I’m not supposed to tell you what I thought.”
“Just tell us what happened next, Mr. Adler. After the shooting was over.”
“Well, there were all these people standing around. Just kind of staring. I think we were all in shock. I know I was. So this lady, the defendant, she starts looking around at all of us and saying, ‘You saw, right? He tried to steal my purse. See, it’s right there in his hand, my purse. You saw him try to take it, right? You’re my witnesses.’”
“Did you speak to her? Did you tell her you had seen things differently?”
“No, sir. Like I said, I was kind of in shock. So then all of a sudden there was a cop there. Like a beat cop, I think. I guess he heard the shots and came running. But I don’t think he saw the shooting with his own eyes, because he was asking what happened. And the woman, the defendant, she starts telling him the same stuff she was trying to tell us. ‘Oh, he took my purse. Look, you can see, it’s right there in his hand.’ I kept thinking this cop was going to tell her you can’t shoot a guy dead for that even if it’s true. But he didn’t say anything to her. He was calling on his radio. Calling for some sort of backup. And then . . . well . . . I feel kind of bad about this, but I was upset by what I’d seen, and I didn’t want to get involved, so I just slipped away.”
“You left the scene.”
“Yeah.”
“When did you decide you were willing to be a witness?”
“Couple days later. I was dreaming about it at night. It was giving me nightmares. It was just a terrible thing to see. And I started worrying that maybe nobody else stayed around and tried to be witnesses, either. I started worrying about the guy’s family. Like, maybe he had kids, which it turned out he did, but even if he didn’t have kids, he had parents, and what if this woman said he was a robber and nobody else said anything otherwise? That’s a terrible thing to be left with after your loved one is gone. So I walked into a police station and admitted what I saw.”
The prosecutor simply stood a moment, allowing silence to echo through the courtroom. He seemed not to want to cut the witness off if there was anything more the man cared to say.
“I thank you for coming here today to do your civic duty, Mr. Adler.” The witness only nodded, so he added, “No more questions, Your Honor.”
The judge raised his eyes to the defense table. “Does the defense care to cross-examine the witness?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
The defense attorney rose again, with even more effort. Maybe he really was tired or sick, Raymond thought. But it felt like an act to Raymond, and made him feel resentful. Like the defense attorney was putting on a show of how much trouble this all was to him.
Sorry if Luis’s violent death is too much of an imposition for you, Raymond thought as the man ambled over to the witness stand.
“So. Mr. Adler.” He paused, as if for effect. Too long, by Raymond’s internal clock. “You said several times that Ms. Hatfield told everyone Mr. Velez had tried to steal her purse. Meaning not the purse on her shoulder, but the wallet and change purse combination he had in his hand.”
“Yes, sir. That’s correct.”
“And I’m afraid the jury may have inferred that you felt she was lying.”
“I did feel she was lying.”
This time Adler’s words came out definite and strong. He did not glance at the judge. He did not hedge or apologize.
Raymond looked at the back of the defendant’s head, but of course it told him nothing.
“That’s a strong statement, Mr. Adler. My client is fighting for her freedom here, and I’d like you to think about the prejudice in that statement and reconsider.”
“There’s no prejudice. I know what I saw.”
“But why do you not consider the idea that maybe she really thought that was true? She didn’t know she had dropped the wallet. She looks down at Mr. Velez, and she sees her wallet in his hand. How is she to think it got there? And by the way, are you sure he literally had it in his hand? I should think he would have dropped it after being shot six times.”
“No, sir. He didn’t drop it. You would think so, yeah. But it was kind of the opposite. Like I guess it just caused him to grip on even tighter. But it was in his hand even after he was down on the street.”
“Okay, fine. Whatever. But back to my original question. Did you not even consider the idea that Ms. Hatfield thought what she was saying was true?”
“No, sir.”
“You didn’t even consider it.”
“No, sir.”
“Will you please tell the court what made you so sure?”
“Because there was no time. He was just reaching out for her shoulder when she spun on him. And she had her darn purse clenched under her arm. She stuck it under there real tight after she got the gun out of it. Or anyway, what I found out later was a gun. There was no way he could have gotten into that purse before she shot him dead.”
This is going badly for the defense, Raymond thought, typing wildly. Making dozens of typographical mistakes he had no time to correct. Good.