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Dan called Benji—Beatrice Naomi Ringgold. She took the witness stand, wide-eyed and highly caffeinated. Professional skirt and blouse combo. No jewelry.
“Thank you for being here today, Ms. Ringgold.”
“Please call me Benji. Everyone does.”
“All right then. Benji.” As quickly as possible, he let the jury know who she was—her background, schooling, professional history. She was one of the first to join the mayor’s campaign staff, before Camila even announced her candidacy, and in a matter of months she had assumed the position of Chief of Staff.
“Would it be fair to say this is a time-consuming job?”
“It would be fair to say this is an all-encompassing job. A 24/7 job. I have little time for a private life, which is why you don’t see any rings on these fingers. But I wouldn’t give it up for anything. This has been the most fulfilling work of my life. Being a small part of Camila’s plan to bring this city into the twenty-first century has been the greatest honor of my life.”
“Do you have a positive opinion of the mayor?” Character testimony was permitted.
“I’ve never known anyone I admired so much. She’s more than a boss. She’s a role model. And a dear friend. A few months ago, I was having some personal problems. She was the first to step up and help.”
He turned a page in his trial notebook, not because he needed to, because he wasn’t reading it, but to give the jury a moment to absorb what they had heard. After hearing so much negative information about Camila, and probably seeing a barrage of it on social media, he was anxious for them to understand that those who actually knew her personally liked her.
“Were you with the mayor on the day the murders took place?”
“I was.”
“Please tell the jury what happened.”
“Mayor Pérez was at the mall for the opening of a new business. They went through a little christening ceremony. Then she posed for pictures and signed a few autographs.”
“How long did it take?”
“About half an hour.”
“What did you do afterward?”
“We went our separate ways. She mentioned that she wanted to do a little shopping. I did too, actually, but I ultimately just went home. It had been a long day.”
“Did she mention the bakery?”
“No. I was aware that she had purchased it. But it didn’t come up on that occasion.”
“Benji, I’m going to ask you about the men who were found dead in the bakery oven. Did you know any of them?”
“Yes, somewhat.”
“How did you know Mr. Mansfield?”
“I knew him socially and I heard he was looking for work. The mayor needed some part-time help on financial matters and he had banking experience.”
“Did Mr. Mansfield work at the office?”
“For a short time.”
“There’s been a suggestion that Camila and Mansfield dated. Do you know anything about that?”
“It’s true, though it’s not nearly the big deal that accountant made it sound like. As far as I know, they only went out once. He was on the rebound from another relationship.” They had decided not to volunteer information about the sexting. There’d been too much talk about sex in this case already.
“And his employment at the mayor’s office?”
“That had already ended. As I said, it was just part-time and short-term. He was a temp, basically. He was done working before they started dating. Camila did try to help him get off drugs, which was interfering with his ability to hold a steady job.”
He nodded. Benji was doing a great job. She obviously liked Camila and wanted to help her, but she didn’t seem defensive or overreaching. Just calmly relating events that she—unlike Esposito—had witnessed.
“Did you know Sean Callahan?”
“Yes.”
“How did he come to work in the office?”
“That was my fault, too.” She cast her eyes skyward. “Miracle the mayor forgave me for that one. City Hall has a custodial staff, but for some reason, they couldn’t get this job done. The toilets kept backing up, the mayor’s office smelled like a sewer, and I was sick of cleaning a disgusting mess every morning when I got to work. So I called this guy I knew. What a mistake.”
“Why do you consider it a mistake? Did he get the job done?”
“Yes, he fixed the sewer problem. He’s a wizard when it comes to plumbing. But he cornered the mayor in the hallway and lit into her like a psychopath. Seriously. I was glad there were metal detectors downstairs. This man seemed dangerous.”
“When you say he lit into her—”
“Just to be clear, there was nothing personal between them. They were not dating or in any way romantic or intimate. No hand-holding, nothing. I think Mr. Esposito is confused or misremembering that. But Callahan was apparently an extremist right-winger, or fascist, white supremacist, or something. Started telling her she was tarnishing the city and people like her were destroying the country.”
“You saw this with your own eyes?”
“I did, and I was horrified. You would’ve seen it too, if that video hadn’t been edited. Someone removed the part that makes the whole scene make sense, that shows the mayor was defending herself, responding to a vicious attack. Maybe she could’ve been cooler, but if you’d seen the way this man came at her, you’d understand. Most people would’ve punched his lights out.” She drew in her breath. “He called her a ‘spick.’ He said she and her ‘bean-eating friends’ were the worst thing that ever happened to St. Petersburg. He said the city would be better off if someone burned the whole Southside to the ground. That’s what really ticked Camila off. That’s when she read him the riot act and threw him out of the office.”
“At the end of the video, Camila seems to threaten him. She says, ‘You will be sorry for what you have done.’”
“She was referring to the racial slurs. The threats against the Hispanic community. She has zero tolerance for that. She called HR to make sure Callahan was never hired by the city again. She considered reporting his threat to the police, but ultimately decided not to give him publicity he would probably enjoy, a platform for his racist beliefs. She’s a strong woman, and she wanted him to be sorry for what he had done. She believes you have to stand up to bullies, to racists. Otherwise they will run right over you.”
“And yet, is Camila normally given to bursts of anger in the office?”
“Far from it. She’s normally perfectly calm, cool, and collected.”
He pivoted a little, moving closer to the jury box. Two alleged motives explained away, one more to go. “You were also aware of the problem with Dr. Primo.”
“Yes.”
“You knew him, too.”
She pursed her lips. “I knew him better than any of them. We were...seeing each other. A little.”
“Dating?”
“Yes.”
“Living together?”
“No, but...you know.” She glanced downward. “Sometimes he slept over.”
“Was this in any way relevant to the charges he was making?”
She choked a bit as she spoke. “I don’t know how he did it, but...somehow, he gained access to Camila’s campaign finance records.” She appeared deeply disturbed. “And I very much fear that was my fault.”
“What did he do?”
“I don’t know exactly. But he gained access to confidential records. Maybe some night while I slept he got onto my laptop. Maybe he stood behind me one evening and watched me type in my password. I really don’t know. But he got the financial information and drew all the wrong conclusions from it. He was more like muckraker than an academic.”
“What do you mean when you say he drew all the wrong conclusions?”
“As you heard, Primo traced some of the mayor’s funds to gang entities. Specifically, Southside Imports, which was originally a front for a drug-running operation. The original owner has since left the city and the company is now run by a man named Luis González. But what they didn’t get is that Luis has worked hard to turn it into a legitimate business. They don’t run drugs. They bring in niche import goods from Cuba and other island countries. They specialize in orchids. It’s a great company—and entirely staffed by Latinx workers from the Southside, people at high risk for gang recruitment.”
“And this legitimate company donated money to the mayor?”
“That’s why I say Primo got it wrong. A few years ago, the mayor funneled money to Southside Imports. Off the books. Nothing illegal, but out of the public eye. Luis was having financial problems. Temporary, he thought. Mostly a cash flow problem. But he needed cash fast or his business was going under. Camila gave him a loan, which he pledged to pay back. And did.” She shook her head. “No good deed goes unpunished, right? She wasn’t taking money from them. She was giving it to them. All they did was pay her back. She was trying to break the vicious cycle of poverty and gangs.”
“Did you ever explain this to Dr. Primo?”
“I tried. He wouldn’t listen.”
He thought for a moment. Benji had explained some of the hearsay accusations the prosecution raised, and rehabilitated Camila’s character. But he knew the jury could spin this another way. Benji had Callahan spewing racial threats and Primo accusing Camila of corruption. Those actions could be perceived as motives for murder.
“Did you detect any signs of...animosity from Camila toward these men?”
Jazlyn had been quiet so far, but this question put her on her feet. “Objection. Calls for speculation.”
“No,” he responded. “I’m asking her to relate her observations, if any.”
“You’re asking her to offer an opinion.”
“I’m asking her to be a character witness, and given the extensive contact she’s had with my client—who better?”
Judge Hayes nodded. “I’ll allow the question.”
He repeated the question, just to remind the jury what they were arguing about.
“No,” Benji said. “Far from it. Camila Pérez is the most forgiving person who ever walked the face of the earth. Sure, she opposes racism. And people who espouse hate shouldn’t receive taxpayer funds. I’m convinced that in time, she would’ve been able to show Primo the error of his conclusions. Unfortunately, he was killed before she had a chance.”
He didn’t think he’d ever get a better place to end the examination, so he stopped it there. “Pass the witness.”
Jazlyn did not plunge into the fray, at least not immediately. He thought he knew why. Benji came across as calm and credible. Biased, sure—she obviously loved the mayor. But that too spoke well of Camila—she was such a generous person she inspired a high degree of loyalty. Jazlyn wouldn’t get far trying to argue with Benji, or trying to get her to defame Camila. So she skipped the usual cross-ex approaches and instead tackled something entirely different.
Something he hadn’t anticipated.
“You will acknowledge that you have seen the defendant lose her temper, correct?”
“I would say her reaction when attacked by Callahan was totally justified.”
“We’ll let the jury determine that. We witnessed an extreme fit on the video.”
“But not the racial slurs that preceded it.”
“So you say.” Jazlyn pulled a slip of paper out of her notebook. “The defendant has a history of issues with...anger management. Correct?”
Benji appeared stricken. Veins stood out in her neck. “I don’t—I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Has she ever received psychiatric treatment for this problem?”
He shot to his feet. “Objection. Outside the scope of direct.”
The judge pondered a moment, then shook his head. “No, there’s been extensive discussion of the defendant’s anger, which is keenly relevant, given the nature of the crimes. I’ll allow it.”
Jazlyn didn’t miss a beat. “Please answer the question.”
Benji’s voice dropped several notches. “She did seek help for her anger issues. But I think that shows what a fine person she is. She had a problem so she got treatment. That’s the honorable—”
“You say she got help. Was there more?”
“I’m not sure...”
“Has she been institutionalized?”
“Objection!” he insisted, fearing he was making matters worse, not better.
The judge shook his head. “Overruled. Sit down.”
Benji hesitated. “That was...long before.”
“Before she was mayor? Yes. But it’s a fact, just the same. She was committed to St. Angelo’s, a psychiatric hospital near here. Correct?”
“Years ago.”
“She must’ve done something serious to get institutionalized. She was arrested, wasn’t she?”
“Objection!” He leapt to his feet. “The prosecutor is delving into matters that were the subject of the prior motion in limine.”
Jazlyn fired right back. “The court ruled that if the defense introduced character evidence, I could raise this matter in response. That’s exactly what he just did.”
“This witness is a fact witness.”
“And a character witness,” Jazlyn insisted. “He specifically asked her about the defendant’s temperament. Whether she normally blew up.”
He started to argue, but the judge cut him off with a wave of the hand. “I warned you about this, counsel. The evidence exclusion was provisional, and you did ask this witness to testify about your client’s temperament. In all fairness, I have no choice but to allow the prosecution to respond.”
“Your honor—”
“Your objection is overruled. The witness may answer the question.”
“But your honor—”
Judge Hayes’ forehead creased. “I’ve ruled, counsel. Now sit down or I will be forced to remove you from the courtroom.”
He sat down, fuming. This was bad. Very bad.
And it was his fault.
“Who did the defendant hurt?” Jazlyn asked.
Benji looked up with pleading eyes. “It was an accident.”
“Who did she hurt?”
Benji forced the words out. “Her younger sister.”
What? Camila told him she’d had a fight with a girl. She didn’t mention the girl was her sister.
Camila did not look at him.
“How badly was her sister hurt?”
Benji’s voice choked. “Bad.”
“She almost killed her own sister, right?”
“No! I mean—she didn’t mean to.”
“She broke her sister’s arm. Someone intervened before she could do worse.”
“She—She—It wasn’t like that!”
“Were you there?”
“No.” Benji was almost crying. “But I know Camila. She would never intentionally harm anyone.”
“Except, she did.” Jazlyn exchanged a look with the jurors. “No more questions, your honor.”
“It wasn’t like that!” Benji cried. “She’s a good person!”
The judge banged his gavel. “If there’s no redirect, the witness is dismissed.”
He had no intention of redirecting. He needed her off the stand, fast.
Tears streamed down Benji’s face. “She’s a good person! She just wants to help people!”
But as much as Benji insisted, as he looked into the eyes of the jurors, he knew they didn’t believe it. Someone who could lose it so badly she almost killed her sister could do anything. That was the kind of rage that could lead anywhere.
Even to four men burned to death in a bakery oven.