CHAPTER 45

Judge Sonya Maxa asks Mia Landow if she would care for a recess before looking at me and saying, “Your witness, Mr. Corvelli.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

Mia watches me hobble to the podium the way a bartender watches a loud drunk: guarded, unsure of what to expect, afraid of the next words to spew from my mouth.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Landow. We’ve met before, have we not?”

“We have, yes.”

“Good, now tell me, Ms. Landow…” I can almost feel the individuals in the gallery listening, hanging on every word of my first few questions. Since I refrained from making an opening statement until after the close of the prosecution’s case, no one, including Luke Maddox, is quite sure what I am about to say, what type of strategy I intend to employ, if any. “To your knowledge, what was Trevor Simms’s business?”

Mia frowns with relief, clearly anticipating another line of questioning. No doubt she’s been dreading for months seeing me stand at this podium from her perch on the witness stand, having me delve into her sexual proclivities. Truth is, if it would assist me in winning an acquittal I wouldn’t hesitate to paint her as a backstabbing harlot with the morals of a cable news commentator. After all, in my profession, the outcome is all that matters. How I arrive there is trivial. But I don’t disgrace witnesses just for kicks. At least not anymore. Unless, of course, they truly have it coming to them.

Fortunately for both me and Mia, Maddox opened the door to Trevor’s business dealings on direct examination by attempting to show that Mia Landow was more to Trevor than just an object of his lust, that she received more from him than just a single roll in the hay in the harbor. The less tawdry Trevor’s infidelity, Maddox no doubt figured, the less sympathy it would merit for Erin Simms. And what better way in America to establish a trusting relationship than by displaying an open line of communication about one’s own finances.

Maddox calmly rises from his chair. “Objection, Your Honor. Could Mr. Corvelli please specify the time period he is inquiring about?”

“Absolutely,” I say. In fact, I phrased the question to goad Maddox to his feet. “Strike the previous question and let me ask you this, Ms. Landow. In the time period that you knew Trevor Simms, did his line of business ever change?”

Maddox sits, no doubt realizing he shouldn’t have pulled the trigger on this first objection. Early on, that is my strategy, to adapt to Maddox’s objections so well that it seems as though I feed off them; to obliterate his confidence, make him gun-shy, make him second-guess himself each and every time he stands to object.

“Yes, it did.”

“And to your knowledge, when did this change in business occur?”

“Just after he and Erin became engaged to be married.”

“Do you know the reason behind Trevor Simms’s change in business?”

Mia hesitates for a moment, undoubtedly calculating how much to say. She’s a witness for the prosecution and Maddox would if he could dress her up in a State uniform to remind her of such. Ultimately, Mia throws caution to the wind and goes with the truth.

“Yes, I do. Prior to their engagement, Trevor had been working as an executive for his father’s software company, SimmsWare. But Trevor’s father didn’t approve of Erin as Trevor’s fiancée, so Trevor and his dad had a sort of falling out.”

“I see. And did this falling out result in Trevor Simms’s termination from his father’s company?”

“Yes, it did.”

Flan’s week-long trip to San Francisco proved a worthwhile investment. In fact, in these financial times, were it not for the ten other dead, I could probably skate Erin on the charge of killing her husband simply by revealing everything Trevor did during the final year of his life.

“That must have been difficult for Trevor,” I say. “Did you notice much of a change in Trevor’s behavior after he lost his position with his father’s company?”

“How do you mean?”

“Say, for instance, Trevor’s spending habits. From what you observed, did Trevor Simms’s spending habits change at all following his dismissal from SimmsWare and his loss of an executive salary?”

“No, they didn’t. If anything, Trevor became even more reckless with his money.”

“Why do you suppose that is?” I say, inviting Maddox’s objection. I want the jury thinking about this question before I answer it myself.

“Objection,” Maddox says. “Calls for speculation.”

“Withdrawn,” I say, before Maxa can rule. “Ms. Landow, immediately following Trevor Simms’s dismissal from SimmsWare, did you know what type of business he had decided to go into?”

“Not at first, no.”

“Did there come a time when you learned what type of business Trevor Simms went into following his termination at SimmsWare?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Trevor confided in me a couple of weeks before his wedding.”

“Do you recall on which particular day Trevor shared this information with you?”

“The day we spent alone on Trevor’s boat in San Francisco Bay.”

Thanks to her testimony on direct the jury needs no reminder as to what else transpired on that day.

“To the best of your recollection, Ms. Landow, what did Trevor Simms tell you with respect to his new business on that day?”

“Objection.” Maddox is up again. “Calls for hearsay.”

“Your Honor,” I say, “may we approach the bench?”

Maxa motions us forward and both Maddox and I manage to make it all the way to the bench without once glancing in the other’s direction.

Once we are out of earshot of the jury box, I say, “Your Honor, I verily believe the witness’s answer will be fully admissible as a statement against interest.”

The hearsay rule prevents a witness from repeating a statement made by someone else when that statement is being used to prove the truth of the matter asserted. One of the hearsay rule’s many exceptions, however, is when the statement made would be against the declarant’s—in this case Trevor’s—interest. The logic behind this exception is that if one makes a statement against his own interest, it is far more likely to be trustworthy.

“Are we talking about criminal conduct, Mr. Corvelli?” Maxa asks.

“Of the foulest kind, Your Honor. Financial.”

“In that case, let me clear the courtroom. You can ask these questions outside the presence of the jury and then I’ll make my determination as to whether the statements are admissible.” Maxa pauses. “Unless…”

“Yes, Your Honor?”

“Unless you can save me the trouble and present this evidence in some other fashion.”

“I’d be delighted to, Your Honor. Anything I can do to expedite justice.”

I hear Maddox mutter “fuckhead” as I amble back to the podium.

While I was up at the bench Jake placed Flan’s blue folder on the podium. I open it now and remove its contents. “Your Honor, I would like to enter this set of documents marked as Defendant’s Exhibit B.” Jake delivers a copy to Maddox’s table as I present my set to the clerk for proper labeling. “May I approach the witness, Your Honor?”

“You may.”

“Ms. Landow,” I say, handing her the papers, “do you recognize this set of documents?”

Mia takes her time looking them over. “Yes, I do.”

“Do you recall when you first saw them?”

“On the day Trevor and I spent alone on his boat in San Francisco Bay.”

“Do you know what these documents relate to?”

“Trevor’s new … business,” she says.

“And what was that business, Ms. Landow?”

“Trevor described it as something similar to a Ponzi scheme.”

There’s a slight rattle from the gallery at the mention of the words Ponzi scheme. Maxa quickly extinguishes it with a soft rap of her gavel.

Maddox is on his feet. “Objection. Hearsay, Your Honor.”

Maxa shakes her head. “Overruled. If that’s not a statement against interest, then I don’t know what is.”

“By Ponzi scheme,” I continue, “you’re referring to a fraudulent investment operation. Correct, Ms. Landow?”

“Correct. Trevor collected money from honest investors using the ruse that he was starting his own software company. With his background at SimmsWare, it was easy for Trevor to convince investors that anything he started was a wise investment.”

“But Trevor Simms had no intention of starting his own software company, isn’t that also correct?”

Mia nods on the stand. “That’s right.”

“Yet Trevor Simms was able to pay returns to his investors in order to convince them to continue investing with him. How did he manage that?”

“Trevor paid returns to individual investors with their own money or with money he received from subsequent investors.”

“Silicon Valley’s Bernie Madoff,” I remark.

Maddox objects and Maxa sustains but I’ve made the connection I wanted to and even earned a few chuckles from the jury box to boot.

“Ms. Landow, that set of documents you now hold in your hands, tell me, does that set contain a list of names under the heading Investors?”

Mia flips a page, glances at the header. “Yes, it does.”

“Now, from your personal knowledge and understanding, from Trevor Simms’s own admission, would you characterize the individuals on that list as people who Trevor Simms swindled?”

“Absolutely.”

I turn to the jury. “Do me a favor, Ms. Landow, and read for me the names listed next to the following numbers under the heading Investors.” I clasp my hands behind my back. “Twenty-six.”

“Tara Holland.”

“Thirty-eight.”

“Isaac Cassel.”

“Fifty-six.”

“Gabe Guidry.”

“Seventy-one.”

“Todd Downey.”

“You know all four of these individuals, Ms. Landow, isn’t that correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“And were any of these four individuals that Trevor Simms swindled present on the island of Oahu on the day of Trevor and Erin’s wedding—or more pointedly, on the night of the fire?”

“Yes,” Mia says, matter-of-factly. “All four of them were.”