James Grippando - Hear No Evil

“Yes. A red Chevy pickup, older model.”

“I want you to think hard now, all right? Did you happen to notice Captain Pintado’s pickup parked in the driveway on any of the occasions when you observed Lieutenant Johnson and the defendant in the bedroom together?”

“You mean while…”

“Yes,” said Jack, again dreading the clarification, “while they were having sex.”

The witness was silent for a moment, then the answer seemed to come to him. “Yes, it was there.”

Pay dirt! “One time? Two times?”

“No. Every time. Every time I can remember.”

Jack tried not to smile, but he was glowing on the inside. “Let me make sure I understand. Every time you observed the defendant having sex with Lieutenant Johnson in the Pintado bedroom, Captain Pintado’s vehicle was parked in the driveway. Is that your testimony?”

“Objection,” said the prosecutor. He finally seemed to realize that Jack was giving this love triangle some interesting new angles.

“Overruled,” said the judge. “The witness may answer.”

“Yes, that’s correct. I didn’t really think of it before. But now that you ask the question, I’m sure of it. I saw it. There were always two vehicles. Captain Pintado’s pickup and Lieutenant Johnson’s car.”

“Thank you. No further questions.” Jack returned to his seat.

“Mr. Torres, cross-examination?” said the judge.

“Oh, absolutely,” he said as he approached the witness. He stopped a few feet away from him, saying nothing, simply allowing the witness to feel the presence of the United States government. Then he turned his back on him, shaking his head, mocking the soldier’s response to Jack’s final question. “You didn’t really think of it before, but now that Mr. Swyteck has asked the question, you’re sure of it. You saw two cars.” He began to pace, allowing time for his skepticism to spread throughout the courtroom. “How convenient.”

“Objection,” said Jack. “Is there a question?”

“Sustained.”

“What else didn’t you think of until Mr. Swyteck asked the question? Lieutenant Johnson’s convenient arrival at the murder scene on the morning of Captain Pintado’s death, perhaps?”

The witness waited for the translation, then said, “I don’t understand.”

“Not important. I’m sure the jury does.”

“Objection.”

“Sustained. Let’s have some questions, Mr. Torres.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Private Castillo, I noticed that Mr. Swyteck didn’t spend much time covering your job description. So let me ask you a few questions about that. You’re part of a unit that conducts surveillance over the naval base at Guantánamo, is that correct?”

“Yes, generally.”

“It’s your job to keep track of what’s going on inside the base?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s also your job to keep track of anyone trying to enter the base, right?”

“Trying to enter the base?” he said, confused.

“Let me clarify that. There is some distance between the perimeter of the U.S. naval base and the area occupied by Cuban forces, is there not?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And the Cuban government has placed many obstacles in that area, isn’t that right?”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“There are razor-wire fences in that area, aren’t there?”

“Yes.”

“There’s even a mine field in there, right?”

“Yes.”

“Those obstacles were put there to prevent ordinary Cubans from reaching the base and seeking freedom on U.S. soil.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“I think you do. Isn’t it true that an important part of your job is to keep ordinary Cubans from reaching freedom?”

“Objection,” said Jack.

“Sustained,” said the judge, but the damage was done. He’d driven home the point that the witness was the enemy-one of Castro’s goons who was instrumental in keeping families in exile from being united with the families they left behind in Cuba.

Torres said, “Now, let me ask you about these sexual relations you observed at the Pintado household. Earlier, you said that you saw the defendant cheating on her husband.”

“Objection,” said Jack. “I think we’ve raised a serious question as to whether it was ‘cheating’ or not, Your Honor.”

“Rephrase the question, please,” said the judge.

“You observed the defendant having sex with Lieutenant Johnson.”

“Yes.”

“And as Mr. Swyteck’s objection just suggested, you are trying to imply that there was some kind of weird threesome going on here.”

“I’m not trying to do anything but tell you what I saw.”

“Oh, please, sir. You’re here today to bring shame on the Pintado family and to embarrass Fidel Castro’s archenemy in exile, Alejandro Pintado.”

“Objection.”

“Sustained. Questions, please, Mr. Torres.”

The prosecutor stepped closer to the witness, his tone growing more aggressive. “You know that the victim’s father is Alejandro Pintado, do you not?”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“You know who Alejandro Pintado is, don’t you?”

“I’ve heard his name.”

“He’s one of the most vocal members of the anti-Castro exile community, isn’t he, sir?”

“If you say so.”

“No, it’s not what I say. It’s what you know. You know exactly who Alejandro Pintado is, don’t you, sir?”

“I know he’s been very vocal against our government.”

“Yes, you know that. And you wouldn’t be here today if the victim’s father weren’t so vocal in his opposition to Fidel Castro, would you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Private Castillo, is it not true that Cuban regulations prohibit members of the military from obtaining exit visas until their compulsory service is completed?”

The witness did a double take upon the translation, as if he were surprised by the prosecutor’s awareness of that restriction. “Yes, that’s true.”

“So, you’re in this courtroom only because someone made a very important exception under the laws and regulations of Cuba.”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s be honest, sir. You’re here today only because Fidel Castro wants you here.”

Jack considered an objection, but Torres already had the jurors in his hand, and no objection at this point was going to wrest them free from his control.

The witness shrugged and said, “I suppose.”

“Thank you,” the prosecutor said smugly. “That’ll do it.”

Jack met with Theo over the lunch break. He would have preferred to stay at the courthouse with Lindsey and Sofia, but Theo claimed to have something of ball-busting importance to talk about. A handful of protestors marched up and down the sidewalk outside the courthouse. Jack donned his darkest shades-six-dollar specials, the kind so cheap that you were guaranteed never to lose them-hoping not to be recognized as he made a quick dash for Theo’s car at the corner.

“Whassup?” said Theo as Jack piled into the passenger seat.

Jack didn’t actually hear him, just saw his lips move. The stereo was loud enough to shatter fine crystal, a mind-numbing blast of so-called music, one of the many kinds that Theo liked, one of the few that made Jack wonder how the two of them were actually friends. Jack switched it off.

“How do you listen to that crap?” said Jack.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, if you like songs where the most commonly rhymed words end with U-C-K.”

“Like the world needs another fucking song about taking a little chance, doing a little dance, and finding a little romance.”

Jack considered it. Maybe the guy had a point. Maybe.