“There is no motive! There was a committed crime. All the hard evidence points to that crime!”
“Please, your Honor. It is imperative for the members of the jury to be presented with all the facts for their decision. This information comes from the defendant himself and it was not obtained unlawfully.”
Karen stands her ground.
The Judge strokes his jaw, considering this. “Very well, Ms. Sandler. I will allow this. But do not deviate from the proceedings.”
“Thank you, your Honor. Mr. Morton, please proceed to tell your story.”
In starts and stops, Brian tells the story. He is super-nervous. Sam remembers – with a tinge of bittersweet nostalgia – the arrogant, smug man she had reacquainted with in the bar with Cassie over a year ago. To see him humbled and brought down to his knees like this is beyond painful.
Karen says, “So you went up to her apartment with her? Did anyone see you?”
“No. It was very late at night.”
“She invited you up to her apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know. I figured she didn’t want anyone to see us talking in the car park.”
“What did you say to her?”
“As soon as I went up to her apartment, I asked her to consider dropping all her charges against Samantha Fox’s breaking and entering.”
“Was this how Ms. Fox obtained the photos?” Karen glances pointedly at the Judge, who had disallowed those very photos.
“Yes.”
“What did you offer Ms. Faulkner?”
“Anything she wanted. Namely money. I didn’t have much of it anymore because I – ” Brian arrests Sam’s eyes across the room “ – invested in a new business venture with my partner. I also had to resign from being the President and CEO of my advertising firm, which I jointly held shares with my cousin, because of the negative publicity I was getting.”
“Is it true that you sold your penthouse and your car to invest in this business?”
Sam cringes, not wanting to hear the answer. She had suspected it for a long time, but now it is to be affirmed in court.
Brian says, “Yes. The new business required quite a lot of capital . . . and I believed enough in my friend and partner to want to take that chance.”
“Is this the same business partner who was charged with breaking and entering Ms. Faulkner’s apartment to procure those photos of you in Ms. Faulkner’s third bedroom?”
“Yes.”
“Objection! No mention should be made of these illegally obtained photos!”
“Withdrawn. Go on, Mr. Morton.”
“I offered Ms. Faulkner money. The gym I invested in was starting to turn in some serious business, and I wanted to cut a long-term deal that would benefit Ms. Faulkner in installments . . . or in whatever manner she desired the money.”
“Are you aware you were committing a felony?”
“I was aware I was offering myself up to be blackmailed. But I was desperate at that time. I . . . I care very much about Ms. Fox and I didn’t want to see her charged because she tried to do something for me. Something the police didn’t do to dig deeper into the case.” Brian falters over this, and he shifts his gaze away from Sam’s, as if not daring to meet her eyes anymore.
“During this time, did Ms. Faulkner act frightened of you? After all, she did accuse you of rape.”
“No. She wasn’t frightened of me. If she was, she wouldn’t have asked me up to her apartment.”
“Yes. I find that extremely strange as well.”
“Objection! Conjecture on the defense counsel’s part.”
“Sustained. Stick to the facts, Ms. Sandler.”
“What did Ms. Faulkner decide?”
“She told me . . . that she didn’t want any money. But she wanted something else.”
“What did she want?” Karen is honing in. Going for the million dollar question.
Brian licks his lower lip. It’s a nervous gesture, but on him, it looks sexy. He can’t help it, Sam thinks with a tinge of sadness. He oozes sex in whatever he does, and now it’s getting him into a shitload of trouble.
Brian turns to the jury. “She said that she wanted to use me . . . in the way I use women.”
Murmurs run through the crowd. The reporters in the courtroom are tense, poised. This has suddenly become a juicy story and Sam can sense them closing in for tomorrow’s headlines.
The Judge picks up his gavel and taps it. “Order, order in the court.”
Norma Hennessey is bristling, but there is nothing she can object to. The Judge has already allowed Brian to tell his side. The audience settles down. You can cut the anticipation with a knife.
“What does that mean?” Karen says gently.
“She wanted me to have sex with her. She asked me if I had a wiretap. I said no. She asked me to take off all my clothes to prove it.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“What happened then?”
“I was very anxious. I wondered if this was her ploy to yell rape again on me. But she assured me she wasn’t going to.”
“And you believed her?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I have already been charged with the crime. Then she says that she will consider dropping the charges against Ms. Fox if I pleased her.”
“Pleased her. As in . . . sexually?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do then?”
“I had sex with Ms. Faulkner.” Brian won’t look at either Sam or Delilah.
“Consensually?”
“Yes.”
“Did you find it odd that she wasn’t frightened of you?”
“Not by then. Because those photos proved that there was more to the alleged rape that meets the eye. So I figured she had set me up.”
“What did you do after you had sex?”
“We had sex again. And then I spent the night.”
“Did Ms. Fox know where you had gone?”
“Not to my knowledge. I didn’t tell her about all this.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was afraid she would try to stop me.” Brian looks sheepish.
“Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“Because I didn’t think anyone would believe me. They didn’t believe me the first time.”
“After you spent the night, what did you do?”