Robert Tanenbaum - Bad Faith

“Yes, but there’s more,” Jaxon said. “Please continue.”

“Well, my next observation isn’t so much about the telltale markers for native speakers,” Lucy replied, “as it is about speech patterns. Anybody who spends their life listening to and absorbing languages will tell you that there is a huge difference between someone who is responding to questions off the cuff and someone who is reading something aloud. I think the guy responding to Malovo is reading his answers.”

“But why?” Karp asked.

“Well, obviously Malovo knew we were listening in, so she could have been making sure we heard what she wanted us to hear,” Lucy said. “But I heard more than she bargained for. When I was trying to pick up what was off about the guy’s Chechen and speech patterns, I turned up the volume. That’s when I heard it, and confirmed it by getting our audio techs to cut the voices out.”

“Heard what?” Karp said, playing along.

“Espey, would you replay some of that recording, please, and play it loud?” Lucy said.

Jaxon picked up the recorder and turned up the volume before playing it again. “There, did you hear that?” Lucy said after the man responded to one of Malovo’s questions.

“Hear what?” Karp said.

“Play it again, Espey,” Lucy said. “And, Dad, this time try to tune out the voices and listen to what’s in the background.”

Jaxon played the recording again. This time, Karp nodded. “I hear some sort of tapping.”

Lucy laughed. “Espey, tell him how you figured out what the tapping is.”

Jaxon grinned. “Well I guess this one shows my age, but when she was just starting out, Janis Joplin made a recording in which someone can be heard typing in the background. It’s a classic.”

“It’s typing?” Karp said. “But who’s typing?”

“A third person,” Lucy said. “I think it was too much for the first speaker to carry on the faux conversation and type at the same time. What I think is going on is Malovo has one conversation for our ears, and in the meantime, she’s looking at responses from a second guy on a computer-something she doesn’t want us to know about, something she’s cooking up with her fellow Russians. And I don’t think it’s martyrdom.”

Jaxon gave Karp an appraising look. “I can see the wheels turning in that head,” he said. “You want to let us in on what you’re thinking?”

Karp sat for a moment looking at the others, then leaned forward. “I’ve been debating whether to talk to you about this-not because I don’t trust you; you know better than that,” he said. “But because I didn’t want to compromise your positions.” He looked at Capers and added, “Especially yours, Jen.”

“Oooh, this sounds intriguing,” Lucy said.

“Maybe so,” Karp agreed. “Anyway, I think I had better tell you about a conversation I had with our favorite serial killer the other night.”

“We were wondering when we were going to hear the real story,” Jaxon said. “Go ahead, I believe you have our undivided attention.”

Lafontaine settled himself in the witness chair and smiled across the well of the court at the jurors. He then swiveled toward Temple as the judge banged his gavel.

“I’ll remind you, Reverend LaFontaine, that you are still under oath,” Temple said.

“Yes, thank you, Your Honor. And God bless you,” LaFontaine said before turning back to the jurors, adding, “And God bless you folks for taking time out of your busy lives.”

Without changing his expression, Karp glanced at the jurors to see how they reacted to the defendant’s words. He noted that two older women, one black and one white, smiled in return and nodded their heads slightly toward the defendant. He remembered from the jury-selection process that both were regular churchgoers, and it had been clear that the defense wanted them on the jury, which Guma had noted with trepidation.

However, Karp argued that the strategy could backfire on the defense. “No one likes to have their faith sullied by a charlatan,” he had pointed out. “It’s our job to prove that’s what he is, and we’ll be okay.”

Now was the moment he would try to do that, and hope that he could help the jurors see through LaFontaine’s veneer of deceit. As he stood waiting for the judge’s okay to begin, he wondered if the defendant was as confident as he appeared on the stand. Probably , he thought. His ego has him convinced that he’s pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes .

Judge Temple looked at him. “Mr. Karp, are you ready to begin your cross-examination?”

“I am, Your Honor.” Time to remove the wool . He walked over to stand next to the jury rail. “Mr. LaFontaine-”

“Reverend LaFontaine.”

“ Mister LaFontaine, you’ve testified that while you express your belief-if it truly is your belief-that faith healing requires complete devotion to the power of prayer while eschewing commonly accepted medical intervention, you do not require your followers to do the same?” Karp asked.

“That’s correct,” LaFontaine replied. “I explain what I believe and why, as it is outlined in the Bible, and then leave it to others to choose their path.”

“You do not threaten to withhold your spiritual guidance, or threaten to excommunicate followers from your church if they choose to seek commonly accepted medical intervention?”

“I do not.”

“So if Monique Hale says that you do, she is lying?”

LaFontaine shrugged. “Perhaps she misunderstood.”

“I see. And did the paramedics and police officers who testified earlier in the trial that you attempted to block their efforts to reach Micah Ellis, who would subsequently die from lack of medical attention, misunderstand you?”

“I disagree with the characterization that I blocked their way,” LaFontaine said. “I was trying to impart that the wishes of the family were to rely on prayer as opposed to doctors to save their son. But they didn’t care to listen.”

“Did you threaten to come at them with a sword?”

“I was speaking biblically,” LaFontaine said. “It isn’t me who will come down with the sword of righteousness on the heads of sinners. It is the Lord.”

“But you told the paramedics that their services weren’t needed. And you refused to let them and the police officers pass, saying that you would come at them with a sword. And you intimated to your friend Frank Bernsen that he should attack the police officer.”

“I did no such thing,” LaFontaine said. “Frank may have been trying to protect the family and thus overreacted, but it was not at my request.”

“Mr. LaFontaine, were you subsequently charged by my office with obstructing emergency personnel from the performance of their duties?”

“I was.”

“And were you found guilty?”

“I was. Unfairly I might add.”

“And was Mr. Bernsen also charged with obstruction, as well as attempted assault on a police officer?”

“He was.”

“And was he found guilty?”

“Yes.”

Karp walked over to the prosecution table and picked up a manila folder, but for the moment he just carried it with him back over to the jury rail. “Let’s talk for a moment about Mr. Bernsen. Would you say the two of you were close?”

“We go way back,” LaFontaine said.

“How far back?”

LaFontaine shrugged. “Twenty years, maybe more.”

“And where did you meet Mr. Bernsen?”

Rottingham jumped to his feet. “Objection! What is the relevance of this line of questioning?”

Karp turned to the judge. “Your Honor, the defendant and counsel have made Frank Bernsen the fall guy for any wrongs that may have been committed in the name of Mr. LaFontaine and his church. And as we all know, Mr. Bernsen will not appear in this courtroom to defend himself or answer questions.”