“Early shift. Seven to three.”
He reached out with his right hand and grasped the oak railing. “Let me direct your attention to 11:15 a.m. on March twenty-third. Could you tell us what happened at that time?”
She shifted in her chair and faced the jury, taking care to cover her knees. He’d trained her like a professional witness. I was impressed in spite of myself.
“Checkout is eleven.”
“Objection.” I rose to a half-stand. “Not responsive.”
The judge gave me a glance. “Sustained.”
Keet shot me a scornful look. It was a small matter. I knew he would redirect her. I just wanted to remind the jury that I was on the playing field.
“Ms. Gomez, what precisely did you do at 11:15 a.m. on that date?”
She looked at the defense table with trepidation, then said, “I knocked on the door. The door of room 113.”
“And why did you do that?”
“Because I needed to get in, to clean. He should be gone. Because,” and she looked my way again, triumphant, “checkout is eleven.”
“What happened when you knocked on that door?”
“No answer. So I used my key and I opened it.”
“Then what?”
She exhaled audibly. “I peeked in. Only opened the door partway. I said, ‘Housekeeping,’ like they tell us to.”
“Was there any response?”
“No. No one said nothing.”
“Then what happened?”
She turned to face the jury again. “I stepped inside and you can’t believe what I seen.”
“Objection,” I said, but the judge waved me down.
“Just tell the jury what you saw, ma’am,” Judge Ashley said.
She dropped her voice to a husky whisper. “I saw there was a black girl’s arms tied to the headboard of the bed, with duct tape. And a white man was on top of her.”
“What did you observe about the man in room 113?”
“He was naked with no sheet or blanket or nothing.”
“Ms. Gomez, what, if anything, were the people in bed doing?”
“Well, they don’t move, so at first I thought they were asleep. But the man’s face was so white, maybe they are not breathing. Maybe they’re dead. But I must have made a noise because he opened his eyes, he lifted his head. I thought he looked like a ghost. He scared me so much I couldn’t even move, not at first.”
“What happened next?”
“I looked at that man’s face and I wanted to scream, but I was too afraid…of what he’d do to me. So I shut the door behind me. And I called the manager. He came up to see, then he called the police on 911.”
“Ms. Gomez, the man you saw in the hotel room, lying on top of the girl in bed, is he in the courtroom today?”
“Yes,” she said, with a voice that rang with assurance.
“Would you point him out for the jury?”
She pointed a finger at Lee, her face twisted with loathing. “Him.”
Isaac Keet bowed his head. “No further questions.”
As Keet walked back to the prosecution’s counsel table, Judge Ashley said, “Ms. Bozarth, your witness.”
I leaned in to Lee and whispered, “Anything in particular you want me to ask?”
He bent his head to my ear. “Leave her alone. Don’t cross-examine her.”
I shot him a look of surprise. “Why not?”
“There’s nothing to be gained by it, and she’s poisoned against me. Get her off the stand and out of here.”
I understood his sentiment, but I had a point to make. Lee had been unconscious, unmoving, and therefore harmless when Juana Gomez saw him. I intended to make her admit it.
So I ignored my client. Picking up my notes, I walked around the defense table and leaned against the front of it. Lee poked me from behind and said “Don’t” in a dangerous whisper. Too late.
“Ms. Gomez, describe the defendant’s condition when you first saw him.”
Her brow puckered. “Huh?”
I was taken aback. Her English had been strong during Keet’s direct examination. “His condition. Didn’t you say he appeared to be sleeping?”
“Appears? I don’t understand.”
I took a step closer. “Ma’am, you said in your testimony on direct examination that the man in the hotel room wasn’t moving, his eyes were closed, and he didn’t respond in any way. Isn’t that correct?”
She was silent. After a second, she shrugged her shoulders.
I felt a wave of heat roll up my neck. Juana Gomez seemed determined to mess with me.
“Did he appear to be unconscious?”
“Conscience?” She shook her head. “That man have no conscience.”
I heard Keet chuckle. Snapping my head toward the judge, I said, “Objection, Your Honor. I request the jury be asked to disregard.”
“Sustained. Disregard the last answer, ladies and gentlemen.”
I walked all the way to the witness stand and eyeballed the housekeeper. “Ms. Gomez. The man in the hotel room—he wasn’t moving, barely breathing. So when you saw him, he wasn’t harming anyone. Correct?”
No answer. I raised my voice.
“Isn’t that right?”
In a sulky voice, she said, “Yeah. When I saw him.”
“And when you made the noise, and he did awaken, what was his condition at that time?”
I wanted to paint a picture of Lee’s vulnerable state, to set the stage for his incapacitation. We needed to establish that he was unable to do any harm. It was within my grasp, inches away, if I could just pull it out of Juana Gomez’s mouth.
She cocked her head. “Conditions?”
“Yes, condition. How did he act? What did he do?”
“Oh, him.” She sneered and turned to face the jury one last time. “He scream and cry like a little girl.”
Chapter 52
AS GOMEZ DISAPPEARED from the courtroom, Judge Ashley picked up his gavel.
“We’ll break for lunch. Court is adjourned until one o’clock.” He slammed the gavel on the bench, and Lee and I rose and stood while the judge departed into his chambers, the hem of his black robe flapping.
Lee turned on me and grabbed my upper arm. “Why didn’t you do what I told you to do?”
I tried to snatch my arm away, but he held me fast. In a whisper I said, “I was trying to make a point.”
His eyes were wide with fury. He pulled me closer, and the odor of his cologne engulfed me.
“Your cross-examination of the hotel maid was a disaster. She made you look like a fool. And she made me look like some kind of freak, some criminal.”
With a mighty yank, I freed my arm. “You were in bed with a dead woman, Lee. That does look pretty bad.”
His head jerked as if I’d struck him. He said, “It sounds to me like you harbor doubts about my innocence. Well, I have doubts about you, Ruby. About your competence. Your ability to represent me in this case. To provide effective assistance of counsel. I’m beginning to think my father was right.”
The cologne made my eyes run, as well as my nose. I pulled my briefcase from its spot on the floor, pulled out a tissue and blew my nose.
Then I turned to Lee and said, “I’ve had a bellyful of your attitude.”
I shoved the soggy tissue into the briefcase, followed by my legal pad, and closed it with a vicious zip. Then I looked up at him and said, “You want another lawyer? No problem, it’s your privilege. If you want me to withdraw, I’d be delighted. I’ll go into chambers and tell the judge, right this minute. Your call.” I swiped at the allergic tears seeping out of my eyes.
Over Lee’s shoulder I saw a figure loom: my law partner, Suzanne Greene. She reached up and grabbed Lee’s left ear, then gave it a twist.
He howled. Pulling away from the assault and rubbing his ear, he turned to her and said, “Damn, Aunt Suze! That hurts.”
“What have you done now? You’ve made your lawyer cry?” Though Lee stood a head taller than me, he had no advantage on Suzanne. At six feet tall, she stood nose to nose with Lee, and she outweighed him by seventy pounds.
Lee lifted his chin, straightened his tie. “Glad you could make it, Aunt Suzanne. My daddy was thinking you’d lost interest in the fate of your only nephew.”