“Did he tell you he and Diana watched porn together?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Why would he tell you this? Isn’t it private?”
“Billy is my best friend. We went to daycare together. We talk about a lot of things. In this case, he was explaining why he wanted to break up with Diana. She was too possessive. The private details were part of a larger conversation, though he did say watching porn together was Diana’s idea and it made him uncomfortable.”
It occurs to me that Deacon is lying. Why would Billy tell him about his sex life? He and Deacon barely talk. It’s all too neat, too perfectly oppositional.
DeFiore shows the jury a cell phone screenshot. Taking a cue from Anderson, he places a poster-sized copy on an easel. “After Billy and Diana broke up, did you know she sent him harassing texts?”
Deacon nods. “Yes, I saw the texts.”
Again, why would Billy show Deacon his texts? I feel like I’m watching a split screen. On one side, a polished young man demands justice for his forever friend. On the other, a long-haired bohemian drifts in and out of Billy’s life. Impulsively, I turn around and look at the crowd. Powell sees me and raises a hand in greeting; flustered, I do the same.
I try to pay attention to Deacon. But this double vision is driving me mad, one world layered on top of the other, neither of them reality.
“Did you know he was meeting Diana at the party?”
“Yes. In fact, he asked me to go. He wanted to confront her, which sounded crazy. I told him as much. I couldn’t make it, but believe me, I wish to hell I had.”
Again, how likely was it that Diana and Billy had the same exact motive for attending the party?
“Did you think Diana was hoping to win back Billy’s affections?”
“Yes, sir. I did.”
“Why did you think this, Deacon?”
“She dropped off a package in Billy’s room.”
“I’d like to introduce Exhibit V-232.” DeFiore holds up a plastic bag, which he shows to Judge McKay then passes around the jury. It’s a pair of women’s lacy underwear, along with a note: I won’t need these 2nite. “Can you explain what this is, Deacon?”
“I assume it’s Diana’s underwear. The note wasn’t signed, but who else would send it?”
“Objection!” Anderson is spitting. “The State has no record of this evidence.”
“Counselors!” McKay snaps. “Approach the bench.”
The judge and attorneys have a heated, protracted discussion. We’re not privy to the content, but it’s clear DeFiore has crossed a line. “Understood,” he repeats. “It won’t happen again.” Eventually, the underwear is ruled inadmissible, and the testimony is stricken. Even so, the jury can’t un-see what they’ve seen.
51
TRUE TO HIS WORD, DEFIORE MOVES QUICKLY THROUGH the rest of his witnesses. Over the next three days, we hear from Billy’s friends, professors, coaches, and classmates. All offer similar details: Yes, Billy’s excitement about Diana was short-lived. Yes, Diana constantly talked about the future. No, Billy didn’t reciprocate. Yes, Billy broke up with her. Yes, she was shattered. Yes, she sent threatening texts. No, he didn’t tell the authorities.
“Why?” DeFiore asks Darnell Lansing, Billy’s former teammate. “If Billy had concerns, wouldn’t it make sense to call the police? Or campus security?”
“Honestly, sir, the idea of calling the police never occurred to me.” Darnell is a serious young Black man in his first year at Johns Hopkins Medical School. He has a sculpted flat top, a heavy brow, and the nervous tic of rubbing his eyes.
“Did you not take Diana’s threats seriously?”
“No, I did, absolutely. But I doubt the police would, not in today’s climate.”
“What do you mean by ‘today’s climate’？”
“You’ve heard the expression hashtag-believewomen? At Princeton, women are not doubted, no matter the circumstances. If a woman says she was raped, cops swoop in, guns blazing. It’s not the same for men. If I were to complain that a former girlfriend was threatening me, the cops would laugh in my face.”
“Objection!” Anderson is on his feet. “Speculation.”
“Sustained.” The judge turns to DeFiore and opens his mouth as if to speak but merely shakes his head.
For some reason, this rattles DeFiore. “Mr. Brown . . . uh . . . Darnell . . . Excuse me, please.” At the defense table, he rifles through his notes. “Darnell,” he says but falters again. “。 . . no further questions, Your Honor.”
Until now, McKay appeared neutral. But DeFiore’s attempt to introduce Diana’s underwear has exposed the judge’s bias. He repeatedly sustains the State’s objections and admonishes our side for petty infractions. Worse, the jury is following his lead. Every time DeFiore talks, they cross their arms and sit rigidly in their chairs.
Collectively, the witnesses for the defense are as earnest and credible as those for the State. They describe a gentle, studious young man who is enamored of Diana until her interest in him feels controlling and materialistic. Every time he pulls away, she gets clingy. When he tells her it’s over, she blasts him with calls and texts. Finally, he agrees to meet at a party where he plans to confront her. Once there, Diana tries to seduce him, first in a bedroom, then a playground. When their consensual sex is misinterpreted, Billy is hauled off to jail. Meanwhile, a nurse suggests rape. Diana realizes this is a way to get, if not Billy’s attention and money, then at least payback for his hurting her.
On Wednesday, the defense explores the events of March 24. DeFiore re-interviews several of the State’s witnesses, and introduces new psychologists, behavioral specialists, and IT experts. Again, we’re presented with a moment-by-moment breakdown of the evening, but this time from Billy’s perspective. We see enlargements of Diana’s texts, inviting him to the party （Come on, Billy. It’ll be fun; have 1 drink） then admonishing him for being late （Why aren’t u here! Where are u? Don’t blow me off, Billy. I’m serious）。 We’re shown a blurry snapshot of Billy and Diana dancing, another where they’re kissing.
The head of the Lewis School attests to Billy’s generosity and patience. DeFiore holds up a photograph, Exhibit B-3940, the one where my brother is helping a boy read. Beside me, Lawrence enlarges the same shot on his phone and zooms in on Billy’s face. I pat his arm and whisper, “Billy will be okay.”
“DeFiore sucks,” Lawrence whispers, sounding like an inconsolable child. “That stunt with the underwear should’ve gotten him disbarred.”
We hear from a medical technician who explains that yes, Diana tested 13 on the Glasgow coma scale, but there’s no way to tell when she blacked out. Or, equally important, if Billy was aware she was unresponsive.
We hear from one of the policemen called to the scene. “The defendant did resist arrest initially. But he was inebriated and disoriented. Once he realized what was happening, he willingly gave a DNA sample. He also consented to a blood test and full body search.”
We review photographs of the bruises on Diana’s body. “Is it possible,” DeFiore asks the intake nurse, “that these bruises were present prior to the alleged assault?” She replies no, not all of them were present, but agrees some could have been. Similarly, the vaginal tearing was minimal, and may or may not indicate assault. “It’s impossible to say with one hundred percent certainty,” the nurse contends. “I can only confirm ‘maybe.’”