“The DA will say anything,” Lawrence calls out. “Don’t worry, Cassie. It’s nothing. If it were, Peter would’ve told us.”
He’s right; of course, he’s right.
At dinner, I go through the motions. I pick up my fork, chew, swallow, and try to ignore the screams in my head. Afterward, alone in my room, I get stoned and drown in loud music blasting through my AirPods. How will I survive three weeks of this?
In court the next morning, Anderson is champing to begin. He hustles, back and forth, near the jury box, a linebacker eager to annihilate the home team.
“What is the defendant’s secret?” he asks, quoting himself from yesterday. “What had him so anxious? What made him so angry?” A long pause. “The defendant, a twenty-three-year-old student, a world-class athlete in the prime of his life, has”—another pause—“erectile dysfunction, a condition more common in a seventy-year-old man. He has watched pornography since he was a child. Now, he is so addicted he cannot sustain an erection without it.”
Nate nudges me, smirks. For the first time in months, we connect. Porn? That’s it? The whole world watches porn. I am so relieved I almost laugh out loud.
I told you not to worry, Lawrence texts. You really can trust me.
Seated beside me, Lawrence reads my screen then squeezes my arm. “I swear,” he whispers.
For the next two hours, Anderson lays out the State’s evidence. But rather than drive home the most damning details from the sheriff’s and EMT’s reports, he focuses instead on the science behind porn addiction: why videos are so dangerous, how technology feeds on the brain, how watching porn predisposes young men to dehumanize women.
“You will learn that the defendant sees his first pornographic video at age seven. You will hear evidence that he continues to watch, compulsively, for the next sixteen years. Witnesses will testify that by the time he meets Diana Holly, he is watching pornographic videos for hours at a stretch. This behavior disrupts his schoolwork, social life, and extracurricular activities. He stops tutoring. He is kicked off the track team. He is deeply depressed. He watches more than eighteen hours a week. He is caught in a cycle of binge-watching, shame, attempts to quit, and relapse. You will hear from the State’s expert how pornographic videos came to rule the defendant’s life.”
I glance at Eleanor. She appears unimpressed by this. So does the jury. Earlier, they were hanging on Anderson’s every word; now they shift in their seats. One guy is dozing; another is scrolling through a phone hidden inside his notebook.
My confidence surges. The DA’s presentation is lackluster and one-note. He uses too many words to say what he means and repeats the phrase “pornographic videos” to the point of distraction. Even as he bashes Billy into a pulp, even as he graphs Billy and Diana’s relationship from flirtation to violence, even as he walks the jury, moment by moment, through the alleged rape, Anderson can’t hold the room.
Finally, McKay cracks his gavel. “We’ll adjourn for lunch.”
41
IN THE AFTERNOON, IT’S OUR TURN FOR OPENING STATEMENTS. DeFiore has implored us to take every day as it comes, but the second he stands up and buttons his jacket, I know we will win. Once again, he’s pulled himself together. He’s no lumpy, dumpy mobster; he’s Peter DeFiore, Esquire, polished in his courtroom blues: a well-fitted navy suit, a navy tie of appropriate length, and heirloom cuff links. While Anderson relied on hysteria and theatrics, DeFiore zeroes in on evidence. He is measured, thoughtful, and persuasive.
Watching DeFiore address the jury, I wish Haggerty were here, if only to relish the shock on his know-it-all, Ichabod Crane, lemon-sucking face when Billy is acquitted.
“Despite the district attorney’s assertions,” DeFiore begins, “this case isn’t about money, power, or privilege. Nor is it about violence. So, what is it about? Well, let’s start with the evidence we know to be true. The facts both sides agree on, and witness testimony supports. Fact one: Billy Quinn and Diana Holly had an intimate relationship. Fact two: this relationship started in June, the summer before their junior year at Princeton University. Fact three: the couple ended this relationship in December, six months later. Fact four: the couple kept in touch, sporadically, between December and March. Fact five: Diana invited Billy to a party on the evening of March 24. Fact six: the couple engaged in sexual intercourse on the evening of March 24.
“This, unfortunately, is where our agreement ends, and disagreements begin. The State wants you to believe Billy Quinn and Diana Holly dated only briefly. However, we will introduce Deacon Porter, Billy’s best friend, who will testify that he joined the couple on dates from June through December. Similarly, both sides disagree on what happened during their relationship and who eventually broke it off. We disagree on what happened in the aftermath of that breakup. We disagree on the reason Diana invited Billy to the party. We disagree on what happened at that party. We disagree on whether or not the sex was consensual.”
Hearing this, I sit more comfortably. Nate and my parents do too. DeFiore is competent, holding his own. Thank fucking God.
“While each of these points makes for compelling discussion, this case is not about what we agree on and what we don’t. So, I’ll ask again: What is this case about? Why are you here? What are you being asked to decide?”
Looking at the jury, DeFiore makes eye contact with each member, one by one.
“This case lies in the answer to three questions. One, did Billy Quinn believe that Diana Holly wanted to have sex on March 24? Two, did Diana lose consciousness on March 24; and, if so, was this before she and Billy engaged in sex? Three, if Diana was unresponsive before they engaged in sex, did Billy know it? That’s it—three questions.
“During this trial, you will hear witness testimony about the charges against my client. Each charge relates to these questions. To be perfectly frank, as Mr. Anderson and I present our cases, much of the issues we discuss will have nothing to do with the charges against my client, or the three questions you must answer. Regardless, you’ll be expected to listen, remain objective, consider the evidence you have seen and heard, and reach a verdict. Most important, you must reach your verdict with the absence of doubt. This means the State must prove that the answer to these three questions is yes. An unequivocal yes.”
“He’s good, right?” I whisper to Nate.
“Yeah, he’s great. So shut up.”
“Unfortunately, the State has a problem. They must offer tangible evidence for every statement they make. This is the law. The law isn’t based in supposition. The law has integrity. It is rooted in proof. But as you may have already figured out, the State’s evidence is weak. So, instead, they’re offering a fictitious story about a boy named Billy Quinn. A story based on conjecture, and fake psychology. But they want you to believe this made-up story and send my client to jail.”
The jury is listening. I find this encouraging.
“Successful stories are like successful lies. They diverge from the truth by a matter of degree. DA Anderson is a good storyteller. But that’s what he’s telling you—a story. A story that sounds like the truth and yet is not the truth. A story with many details, none relevant to the charges against my client. A story rooted in sham science and made-up psychology that sounds technical but proves nothing.”