41
The judge took the bench as promised and briefly eyed the number of people in the gallery.
“Are we ready for the jury?” she asked.
I stood to address the court.
“Your Honor, before we call the jury, I would like to address a couple of matters that have just now come up.”
“What is it, Mr. Haller?”
She said it with exasperation clearly in her voice.
“Well, Agent Marco is here presumably to testify as a witness called by the defense. I would like to request that I be allowed to treat him as a hostile witness and I would also ask that the court direct Agent Marco to remove the firearm he is wearing openly on his belt.”
“Let’s take these one at a time, Mr. Haller. First, you have called Agent Marco as a defense witness and he has so far not answered a single question. On what basis should you be allowed to treat your own witness as a hostile witness?”
Classifying a witness as hostile would allow me more freedom in questioning Marco. I could ask leading questions needing only a yes or no response.
“Your Honor, Agent Marco has sought to avoid testifying at this trial. He has even brought his lawyer with him today. Additionally, the one and only time I have met Agent Marco, he threatened me. I think that makes him, well, hostile.”
Forsythe stood to respond, as did Marco’s attorney, but the judge waved them off.
“Your request is denied. Let’s start the testimony and see how it goes. Now, what troubles you about Agent Marco’s sidearm?”
I asked if she could direct Marco to stand in the gallery so that she could see his gun. She agreed and ordered him to stand.
“Your Honor,” I said, “I believe that his wearing his weapon in such an open way is threatening and prejudicial.”
“He is a law enforcement officer,” Leggoe said. “And that will be established, I’m assuming, when he begins his testimony.”
“Yes, Judge, but he’s going to walk by the jury on his way to the stand looking like he’s Wyatt Earp. This is a courtroom, Judge, not the Old West.”
The judge thought for a moment and then shook her head.
“I’m unconvinced, Mr. Haller. I’m denying that request as well.”
I had hoped the judge would read between the lines and understand what I was seeking. I was going to push Marco out of his comfort zone and, depending on how things went, possibly even accuse him of murder. You never know how people are going to react, even law enforcement officers. I would have been far more comfortable knowing Marco was unarmed.
“Anything else, Mr. Haller? The jury has been most patient waiting on us.”
“Yes, Judge, one more thing. This morning I will call Agent Marco, followed by Investigator Lankford. I would ask that you instruct Mr. Lankford to remain in the courtroom so that I can ensure his testimony.”
“I will do no such thing. Mr. Lankford is expected to be where he should be, but I will not restrict his movements in the meantime. Let’s bring the jury in now.”
I glanced back at Lankford after the ruling and saw his cold-eyed stare trained fully on me.
The jury was finally seated, and the judge took five minutes to explain to them that the defendant would likely not be present for the rest of the trial. She said this was due to a hospitalization that had nothing to do with the trial or the case at hand. She admonished them not to let the defendant’s absence affect their deliberations or view of the trial in any way.
I then took my place at the lectern and called James Marco to the stand. The federal agent stood in the gallery and stepped forward with an undeniable confidence and ease in his stride.
After the preliminaries that identified him as a DEA agent and member of the ICE team, I quickly got down to the script I had worked out in my head during the sleepless night before.
“Agent Marco, please tell the jury how you knew the victim in this case, Gloria Dayton.”
“I did not know her.”
“We have heard testimony here that she was your informant. Is that not true?”
“It is not true.”
“Did she call you on November sixth to inform you that she had been subpoenaed in a habeas corpus case involving Hector Arrande Moya?”
“No, she did not.”
“Are you familiar with Hector Arrande Moya?”
“Yes, I am.”
“How so?”
“He’s a drug dealer who was arrested by the LAPD about eight years ago. The case was eventually taken over by federal prosecutors and it landed in my lap. I became the case agent on it at that time. Moya was convicted of various charges in federal court and sentenced to life in prison.”
“And in the course of your work on that case, did you ever hear the name Gloria Dayton?”
“No, I did not.”
I paused for a moment and referred to my notes. So far, Marco had been nothing but cordial in his responses and seemed unconcerned by being forced to testify. His denials were what I had expected. My job was to somehow open a crack in the facade and then exploit it.
“Now, you are currently involved in a federal case involving Hector Moya, are you not?”
“I don’t know the details because the lawyers are handling it.”
“Mr. Moya is suing the federal government, alleging that you set him up in that bust eight years ago, is he not?”
“Mr. Moya is in prison and is a desperate man. You can sue anybody for anything, but the fact is, I was not there when he got busted and it wasn’t my case. It came to me afterward and that’s all I know about the whole thing.”
I nodded as though I was pleased with his answer.
“Okay, let’s move on. What about other players in this case? Do you know or have past experience with anyone?”
“Players? I am not sure who you mean?”
“For example, do you know the prosecutor, Mr. Forsythe?”
I turned and gestured toward Forsythe.
“No, I don’t know him,” Marco said.
“How about the lead investigator on the case, Detective Whitten?” I asked. “Any past association with him?”
Forsythe objected, asking where I was going with this meandering examination. I asked for the judge’s indulgence and promised to get to the point quickly. The judge let me carry on.
“No, I don’t know Detective Whitten either,” Marco answered.
“Then how about the DA’s investigator, Mr. Lankford?”
I pointed at Lankford, who was sitting face forward, staring at the back of Forsythe’s head.
“He and I go back about ten years,” Marco said. “I knew him then.”
“How so?” I asked.
“There was a case when he was with the Glendale PD, and we crossed paths.”
“What was the case?”
“There was a double murder, and the victims were drug dealers. Lankford caught the case and he consulted with me a couple, maybe three, times about it.”
“Why you?”
“DEA, I guess. The dead guys were drug dealers. There were drugs found in the house where they got killed.”
“And Detective Lankford wanted to know what? If you knew anything about the victims or who might have killed them?”
“Yes. Things like that.”
“Were you able to help?”
“Not real—”
Forsythe objected again, citing relevancy.
“We are trying a case involving a murder seven months ago,” he said. “Mr. Haller has shown no relevancy to this case ten years ago.”
“Relevancy is coming, Your Honor,” I responded. “And Mr. Forsythe knows it.”
“Soon, Mr. Haller,” the judge responded.
I nodded my thanks.