42
I rested my case. To win my freedom, I had to prove only one point —that my apprehension by a police officer under the mental health law was illegal because it wasn’t based on his personal observation. I thought I had shown it. But I wasn’t sure.
Attorney Cougin was smug when she argued for my petition to be dismissed. She seemed buoyed by Judge Levall’s apparent disinterest in my examination of the New Orleans officer.
“Mr. Black is wasting the time of this federal court,” the hospital’s attorney argued. “What is a mental commitment case doing here? It belongs down the street, in the Orleans Parish court.” Gaining steam, she not only argued that my case be kicked out; she also demanded that the judge assess attorney’s fees against me as a penalty for bringing “a frivolous, ridiculous case.”
Judge Levall nodded to me for a response.
I made it short and sweet. “Your Honor, habeas corpus has been held to be a perfectly legitimate approach to object to an illegal violation of the mental health commitment laws. I suggest the court read the opinion in Jackson v. Foti, a 1982 decision of the US Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit, right here in New Orleans.”
The judge didn’t waste time. “I’m familiar with the opinion in Jackson,” he said. He turned to Attorney Cougin. “Your motion to dismiss is denied. It’s your case now, Ms. Cougin.”
I glanced up at the clock. It was ten minutes after six. When would the sun go down and darkness fall? When would that ship glide past Port Sulphur? When would it be too late for the human traffic on board to be rescued?
Cougin called Special Agent Fainlock as her first witness. He described in great detail how he had interrogated me regarding the death of Assistant Attorney General Paul Pullmen, pointing out with exuberance that the victim had been murdered in my hotel room.
She asked, “Did you consider Trevor Black to be a potential suspect in that homicide?”
“Obviously,” Special Agent Fainlock replied.
“Did you consider Trevor Black to be a potential danger to the public?”
“Considering the violent way in which Paul Pullmen was murdered, I certainly did.”
“Were you present when Trevor Black recently delivered a speech to the American Bar Association convention in New Orleans?”
“Describe for the court what happened.”
“Mr. Black went off on a rampage that upset the audience.”
“In what way?”
“By demanding an investigation into the death of an assistant US attorney by the name of Jason Forester, who died of natural causes but who Mr. Black thought had been the victim of some kind of voodoo curse.”
“When you were with the parish sheriff just minutes before he took Trevor Black into custody for mental observation and treatment, did you have a short conversation with Mr. Black?”
“Yes.”
“About what, pray tell?”
“About demons.”
Attorney Cougin feigned astonishment for theatrical effect. “Pardon me, but did you just say demons?”
“I did,” the FBI agent said. “I asked him about it because he has a reputation for chasing what he believes are demonic forces.”
“And what did Mr. Black say?”
“That demons are ‘everywhere.’ That’s the word he used. Then Mr. Black added, ‘You just have to know where to look.’ That is an exact quote.”
As I stood for my cross-examination of the special agent, I had only one line of questioning. It was about his interrogating me at the FBI headquarters in New Orleans.
“Agent Fainlock, did you release me after questioning me about the murder of Paul Pullmen?”
“You were allowed to leave, yes.”
“Do you customarily release men who have murdered other men?”
“Not usually, no. But in your case, there were other factors.”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact that Mr. Vance Zaduck spoke to me. He’s the United States attorney for the District of Columbia.”
“What did he tell you?”
Attorney Cougin was up again, objecting on hearsay grounds.
“No, not hearsay,” I replied, explaining that I was not offering it for the truth of what was said, but only to show that Vance Zaduck had said it.
Judge Levall allowed the question and told the FBI agent to answer it.
Agent Fainlock said, “He told me he knew you, Mr. Black, professionally. And he was in the audience at the ABA convention when you spoke.”
“Any comments from Mr. Zaduck that I had run amok, acted like a crazy man during my speech to the ABA?”
“Not that I can recall.”
“Did Mr. Zaduck also tell you that as a result, it would have been impossible for me to have been in my hotel room killing Assistant AG Paul Pullmen and simultaneously in the auditorium giving my speech?”
“Mr. Zaduck and I are not pathologists, Mr. Black. Coroners and pathologists are the ones who fix the time of death.”
“But you’d agree with me, that it’s implausible to believe I killed Mr. Pullmen in a bloody melee in the hotel room, then cleaned up in a matter of minutes and calmly trotted over to the convention in time to deliver my speech. . . .”
“But if you really believed that is what happened, would you have released me?”
Long pause.
“Probably not.”
I ended my cross there, and Judge Levall announced a break. When I turned to check the time, it was then 6:45 in the evening. I also noticed that Heather had left her seat in the courtroom and was quickly approaching me.
“Trevor, on that last witness, the FBI guy, I was just wondering . . .”
“Wondering what?”
“Why didn’t you try to nail him about your comment about demons being ‘everywhere.’ I mean, I was there, in the sheriff’s department when you said it. You were perfectly calm. Said it almost offhandedly. But he made it sound like you were totally crazy.”
“You’re wondering why I let that go?”
“Right.”
“Strategy. I’m leaving the demon stuff for the next witness.” Then I asked, “Did you strike out with Deputy St. Martin?”
“They wouldn’t let me talk to him.”
“Thanks for trying. You’re a trouper.”
“All rise.”
Judge Levall was striding back into the courtroom.
Ms. Cougin called Dr. Alex Schlosser to the stand as her next witness. As I had guessed.