I glanced at the jury. It suddenly made sense why Church had used challenges on seniors who seemed to me to be perfectly clearheaded and openminded.
‘Detective Lance Fukumoto, who Ms Lau promised as your star witness, snapped to conclusions the night of February twenty-second. During his testimony you’re going to learn that Detective Fukumoto hadn’t even gotten to the scene when he decided who he liked for the murder. This may seem comical – and I’m not above cracking a joke or two – but this is dead serious. On the way to the scene of the crime the detective googled Ethan Jakes. He then downloaded one of his songs. Why? So he could manipulate the man he knew – just from hearing the nine-one-one call – was guilty of this crime.
‘Could he really be so proud, you’re probably asking yourselves, that he’d allow an innocent man to go to prison for the rest of his natural life, rather than admit a mistake? This man with thirty-six years on the force, this man of impeccable integrity? No.’ Church shook his head to emphasize it. ‘No, I’m not for the wholesale degradation of the police. I don’t see in this case some elaborate conspiracy. I see a man, a good man, a man with seventy years on this earth, nearly forty with the HPD, who, in this particular case, made a mistake and then, as police are sometimes wont to do, developed tunnel vision.
‘Tunnel vision,’ Church repeated, and I jotted it on my pad as a possible title for the movie.
‘Tunnel vision,’ he said again. ‘That’s what this case is about.
‘But wait, you’re saying to yourselves, what about the prosecutor? What about the prosecutor? Now, as I said earlier, I am not for the wholesale degradation of the police. I am, on the other hand, all for the wholesale degradation of lawyers.’
This earned a chuckle that spread like the flu through the courtroom.
‘Ms Lau is busy,’ Church said, ‘Ms Lau is impatient, Ms Lau is preparing to campaign for govern—’
‘Objection!’ Lau was on her feet so fast I wondered whether she’d been an athlete in college. ‘Counsel is making a personal attack on—’
‘Withdrawn,’ Church said, his hands parallel to his head in the you-got-me pose. He turned back to the jury. ‘Ms Lau is busy, Ms Lau is impatient—’
‘Objection!’
I wasn’t sure Lau had even had time to sit down.
‘Sustained,’ Hightower said in his best tenor. ‘Mr Church …’
‘Your Honor, I swear, I thought Ms Lau’s objection was strictly about her upcoming campaign for governor.’
‘Your Honor!’
‘Mr Church,’ Hightower commanded, ‘this is your final warning. Go down this road again—’
‘Your Honor,’ Church said, ‘may we approach?’
In the editing room, I read from the transcript of the first of many sidebars during trial.
CHURCH:Your Honor, with all due respect, this is our theory of the case. That Detective Fukumoto rushed to judgment, which he did, and that Ms Lau wholly ignored that fact, not because she is a terrible person, but because she is busy, impatient—
LAU: Judge!
CHURCH:See what I mean, Your Honor? She won’t even allow me to finish my thought.
JUDGE:Ms Lau, you’ll get your turn. Mr Church?
CHURCH:Ms Lau’s political ambitions clearly interfered with her judgment in this case. Quite frankly, Judge, with such a conflict of interest, I can hardly believe she didn’t recuse herself.
LAU:This is outrageous.
CHURCH:My sentiments exactly, Your Honor.
‘Tunnel vision,’ Church says onscreen, without missing a beat following the sidebar. ‘Detective Fukumoto had it. Other people, who shall remain nameless, had it.’ As he says this, he lifts his brows and subtly nods in the direction of the prosecutor.
Lau starts to rise, but catches sight of the jury, who are (sadly again, offscreen) falling in love with Nicholas Church.
‘In defense of Detective Fukumoto,’ Church continues, ‘let me say this. Although he jumped to the wrong conclusion, it wasn’t a ridiculous jump to make. After all, Detective Fukumoto wasn’t aware of all the facts that first night. Or even before he charged the defendant. He didn’t know that Ethan’s brother Nate was sleeping with Piper Kingsley. He didn’t know, as Piper’s neighbor Elanor Rigby knew, that a white BMW was parked in Piper’s garage some nights, on dates which we’ll show you correspond with Ethan’s performances in town. He didn’t know, for example, as Nate’s ex-wife Cheyenne Oh will testify, that Nate had pined for Ethan’s lifestyle every waking moment of his marriage and fatherhood. When Detective Fukumoto first snapped to his conclusion – when he first developed tunnel vision – he didn’t know that Nate had been struggling at his law firm, losing cases he should have won, clearly because of preoccupation.
‘Preoccupied with what? I’ll let you decide during the presentation of the evidence.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I get no joy out of telling you this tragic story. But when I took on Ethan as a client, we agreed that we would seek the Truth together, that we would go wherever the evidence took us. Ethan certainly gets no joy out of this. But my defense team and I, we went where the evidence led.’ He turns his gaze to Lau, says, ‘Someone in this case needed to.’
Once opening statements concluded, the judge adjourned the proceedings.
‘Until tomorrow,’ Hightower said, ‘when the prosecution will put on its first witness.’
He reminded the jury not to speak about the case, not to watch television or read newspaper articles about the trial. Church assured me, however, that jurors never listen to this instruction. ‘It’s only human,’ he said. ‘People get excited. For eleven of those twelve people, this is probably the most exciting thing happening in their lives.’
Which was why Church again refused to use the back door to exit the courthouse. Instead we proceeded out the front door, where we were once again swamped by media.
Mercifully, Church would say only, ‘I think my opening statement speaks for itself.’
The moment we departed courthouse property, our uniformed escorts stopped holding back foot traffic, and we were suddenly swarmed. For an instant I lost sight of Church. Lost sight of Brody.
As I searched for them, I saw only one person I recognized. Not the full person exactly, just the clean-shaven head bulleting toward us.
I turned and found Church just as Zane Kingsley confronted him.
‘Talk about my lil’ girl like that, will ya. You fucking gutful of piss.’
Church’s eyes widened at this.
‘That’s right,’ Zane said, ‘I know you. I know you and your lot.’
Zane Kingsley made as if he was going to strike Church, but Church didn’t flinch.
Just when I expected Zane to produce a weapon, he was tackled by a trio from the HPD.
‘What the hell’s a gutful of piss?’ Brody asked, as Zane was escorted out of sight in handcuffs.
Church looked at Brody, and for a moment I was sure he was about to grace us with that obnoxious Aussie accent. But he didn’t. He simply shrugged his shoulders as though they were suddenly fifty-pound weights.
‘He called me a drunk,’ he said.
‘I don’t think they’re safe,’ I told Brody on the drive back to Waikiki.
‘Who? Nick and Marissa? The Four Seasons is probably the safest place on the island, and the penthouse suite the safest place in the hotel. Only you and they have keys.’
‘He’s been getting death threats, you know.’
‘I know. I filmed him receiving one in the mail.’
Brody searched my eyes as I tried to maintain focus on the road.
‘Come on. Chin up, Rye. Opening statements were dramatic. That confrontation with Zane Kingsley will make great footage. This is exactly the movie you envisioned before we came out here.’
I felt sick to my stomach and feared I might have a panic attack on H-1.
‘George Leary was right all along,’ he added. ‘You have a great eye, Rye. You better be ready for it – this
film may well lead to fortune and fame.’
THIRTY-EIGHT
Love ain’t nothing but sex misspelled. That’s what Harlan Ellison said. If Riley Vasher’s words are ever worth anything, I’d say sex is merely a catalyst. If lust sparks the ignition, love is the engine that either sputters and dies early, or leaves you stranded down the road. Seldom does it go the distance. With Ethan, I think I mistook lust for love. Think I saw a man as sensitive as Brody but without all the baggage and jumped on him. Think the lust was so intense that I figured, to hell with the invisible wall, and let the fucking thing topple all around me.
In the editing room, I decide to cut all the tedious science, to eliminate the ho-hum explication of digital forensics, DNA, and trace evidence such as hair and fibers. Leave all that to the writers of CSI. I prefer to slice straight to the conclusions through visual evidence of late-night strategy sessions, Church’s cross of key witnesses, and both sides’ closing arguments. I’m determined not to lose sight of what this movie is meant to be: a lurid account of the events surrounding the death of local weathergirl Piper Kingsley, and the subsequent murder trial of her sexy live-in musician Ethan Jakes.
Onscreen, I sit next to Church on a park bench not far from the courthouse, eating lunch. As was the norm, Brody had declined the lawyer’s invitation in favor of the cafeteria, and Ethan professed to having no appetite.
‘The visual evidence we present should be salacious,’ I tell Church. ‘Should appeal to the audience’s prurient interests and earn our film a hard R. The FCC should slap us with a TV-MA and require viewers to use discretion.’
‘If viewers had any discretion,’ he says, ‘you’d have to find another line of work.’
‘Yet you credit Marissa’s movie with turning your life around.’
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ he says, this time with a mouthful of Italian sub, ‘I’m a product of tabloid journalism.’ He scans the area, presumably for jurors, then swallows and follows it with a full bottle of FIJI. ‘But,’ he adds, ‘just because I am a product of tabloid journalism, doesn’t mean that I need to like the mockery the media has made of our legal system, or our political system for that matter. These, however, are the present rules of the game. I can either ignore them on principle or use them to my client’s advantage. I choose to do the latter.’
‘You’ve fully embraced the fame, though.’
Church grins. ‘Everyone desires fame, Riles. It’s just the famous who are willing to admit it.’
‘You’re suggesting fame is the ultimate achievement?’
‘Hardly,’ he says. ‘In the era of Chewbacca Mom, anyone can become famous.’
I nod. ‘We’re not living in the best of times, are we?’
He glances at the outrageously expensive watch he purchased a few days ago at Ala Moana, and shrugs. ‘Popular culture reflects who we are. This is the direction of the species. Like it or not, watching TV is like gazing into a mirror. That’s us, that’s who we are. People whose jaws drop in disgust at reality TV are just disgusted that this is our reality. Because we’re the worst of reality TV, we’re the worst of social media, we’re the fucked-up narcissistic Frankenmonster stomping blindly over our own fragile existence.’
‘Holy cynicism, Batman.’
He smiles, then leans in as if to share a deep secret. ‘Riles, you and I both know that the world has become absurd. We either accept the new reality or go insane trying to convince everyone else of the world’s absurdity.’
Next, I pull up footage of Brody with Church. I haven’t decided how much of this relationship I want to show. Side by side, they look like the ultimate odd couple, yet they’ve bonded in a way few hetero males do. What makes the friendship even more peculiar is that they don’t seem to share very much in common. Then again, Church refuses to speak about his life prior to law school, so there are numerous pieces of the puzzle I’m missing. I’ve repeatedly asked Church about his parents, about his childhood, about the onset of his illness, but the closest I’ve come to a positive response was during jury deliberations, when he winked at me and said, ‘We have to save something for the sequel.’
Still, I think Church is my answer to developing Brody as more than just a background character. So much of Brody’s experience during principal photography was behind the camera, and the rest consisted mostly of offscreen technical talk with Marissa Linden. There are a few profound conversations between Brody and Church, but most of those contain personal content that Brody wouldn’t want aired. Brody sees our arrival in Hawaii as an unequivocal fresh start. A rebirth, a rewind, an incontrovertible kickoff that erases all things past. But without his past, Brody is an incomplete player. Without his past, Brody isn’t Brody.
Yet, how would I introduce Brody’s abuse and neglect? How, short of reenactments, would I show a mother deliberately withholding from her child the basics for survival? How would I show her locking food in the trunk of her car? How would I show her holding a blow dryer to the boy’s scalp in ninety-degree heat as punishment for sweating while playing outside? How would I show the physical attacks? How would the audience experience the child’s isolation? How would they hear his mother’s screams, her taunts, her constant wishing aloud that Brody had never been born?
How would viewers bear witness to the public humiliation of having a mother with a mixed salad of untreated mental illnesses? How would they hear the boy’s futile pleas for his mother to seek help for herself?
I lean back in my chair. Even if I could somehow show the horrors of Brody’s childhood, I’d only be knocking down another invisible wall and making the cameraman the most sympathetic character in the movie. No, this film cannot be about Brody. This film cannot be about me. This film cannot be about Church.
This film needs to be about Ethan.
THIRTY-NINE
On the first day of testimony, Naomi Lau walked Detective Fukumoto through the investigation in its entirety. From the initial call, through the collection of evidence, to his conclusion that Ethan Jakes had murdered Piper Kingsley, the detective carefully explained his motive behind every move, the thought process behind every decision he made. To preempt Church’s own inquiry, Lau and Fukumoto even ushered the jury through Fukumoto’s few minor mistakes. The prosecution had such a good morning that by lunch I felt sick to my stomach.
But I had scheduled lunch with Kalani Webb at a café down the street from the courthouse.
‘So what do you think?’ he said, after we ordered.
‘I think it was a difficult morning for the defense.’
‘Have you been online this morning?’
‘Not yet, why?’
‘Your guy seems to have caught whatever Jodi Arias had.’
It took me a moment to remember the Jodi Arias case. ‘She was convicted of shooting, stabbing and slitting her boyfriend’s throat, right?’
‘She also took to Twitter during her trial and seemed to enjoy all the attention.’
‘Are you shitting me? Ethan’s on social media today?’
‘He tweeted that Fukumoto is a senile old bastard who should have been put out to pasture years ago.’
‘Christ. The jury will see that.’
‘Even if they’re trying to obey the judge’s instructions – which I don’t think happens too often – it’ll be pretty hard to miss it. The Star-Ad is following the case as closely as any trial in the state’s history. People are obsessed.’
‘I see you’ve been writing every feature. How’d you land that sweet gig?’
‘It didn’t go unnoticed by the editor-in-chief that I live one house away from the crime scene.’
‘I’m sure it didn’t hurt receiving scoops from us every week.’
‘Don’t think for a second I don’t appreciate it,’ he said with a charming smile. ‘This is old school journalism. One hand washes the other, yeah?’
‘Church has been sufficiently entertained by the coverage so far.’
‘This case is kind of making a name for me, but
print’s not my future. My real goal is still to make it in television.’
I reflected for a moment. ‘The first time I noticed you on TV was the morning after Piper died.’
‘Yeah, that was my first real report. I’m still hoping it opens some doors. What did you think?’
‘Is this one of those times you want an honest opinion? Or just a pat on the back?’
‘An honest opinion, though it sounds like I may regret asking.’
‘You have a terrific presence onscreen. I’ve seen it in our own footage at pressers and outside the courthouse as well. But I thought that initial report was a little dry.’
‘Shit. I haven’t even watched it – I’ve been too afraid.’
‘Did you know Piper well?’ I asked him.
‘I talked to her a few times. When I finished school I went to her for advice, but she kind of brushed me off. I auditioned at her station but never got the call back.’
‘It’s a tough industry to break into.’
‘That’s what makes me want in so bad I can taste it.’
Following lunch, Lau abruptly tendered the witness, no doubt in the hopes of swaying Church even slightly off course. On the witness stand, the seventy-year-old lead detective showed no signs of tiring.
‘He looks like he can go another twelve hours,’ I whispered.
‘Give me five minutes with him,’ Church said as he rose from his seat. ‘Then make another assessment.’
The previous night, during our strategy session, Church had been more animated than we’d seen him in the past couple of weeks. How much of that exhilaration could be attributed to adrenaline, and how much to the contents of his oversized LAWYERS DO IT IN THEIR BRIEFS mug, we didn’t know. But it felt damn good having that electricity back in the room.
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