by Karen Jonson
Cathy: “So that would be - it would be fair to say that at night or at any time when you weren’t there that you didn’t have any way to know what he was doing?”
Michelle: “Correct.”
Cathy: “So you don’t have any way to tell this jury that you know for sure what he did with young girls in his room when you weren’t out there?”
Michelle: “I know Swami Ji, and I know his behavior.”
Cathy: “You don’t have any way to know what he was doing when you weren’t there, do you?”
Michelle: “No.”
Cathy: “So for all you know, he could have been doing all sorts of other things that you didn’t know about?”
Michelle: “I have no way of knowing.”
Cathy: “Pass the witness.”
I was amazed at Cathy’s brilliant cross-examination of the defense witnesses. She did a killer job exposing their obfuscation of the truth.
The defense spent the rest of the day trying to get a paid “expert witness” on the stand. But after the prosecution protested and brought the judge case law as to why.
Everything was about to implode.
111
Day Eight
The Defense Rests, Abruptly
THURSDAY, 3 MARCH 2011.
The day continued with Gates fight to get some Ph.D. in psychology to address the phenomenon of false allegations of sexual abuse.
However, she failed to get and “expert” that related to this case. Judge Ramsay finally administered the coup de grace.
Judge Ramsay: “Do you have any studies that apply specifically to this case where the outcry is later when they’re adults and not children? Because these are not children. These are all - all the alleged victims were adults. Do you have any studies about that?”
Witness: “No, sir.”
Judge Ramsay: “The State’s objection [to this man testifying] is sustained.”
Clearly, the loss of this witness was a major blow to the defense—because within half an hour Kearney stated abruptly, “The defense rests, Your Honor.”
It was an extremely sudden decision, considering the length of their witness list, their assertion that the defense would need two to three weeks to make its case, and the fact that a few witnesses had been milling around the courthouse that morning waiting to be called to the stand. One of the witnesses was Kate and Vesla’s brother, Akhilananda (formerly Luke), who had been looking sick to his stomach and pacing in the hallway all morning. Another young woman who had grown up in the ashram and had been close friends with the girls was going to be a defense witness. This young woman had taken Prakash’s side, likely because her mother was a staunch Prakash supporter. Kate called me to give me the news.
“You can come to the closing arguments tomorrow for closing arguments.”
112
Day Nine (Part One)
Lawyer Interrupted
FRIDAY, 4 MARCH 2011.
It would be my first day in the courtroom for the criminal trial of my former guru.
Kathi and Wayne decided to attend the trial, too. So, the three of us left their home at 6:30 a.m. We needed to arrive at the courthouse early to ensure we got seats in the famously packed courtroom full of devotees.
Kate called while we were en route: “Are you guys on your way?”
“Yes, why?”
“Because Dylan’s dad Larry is there and he said a line has already started forming.”
When we arrived, I parked behind the building and we hurried to the line. Right away, devotees started cutting in front of us, joining others who were already there. The man in front of me, who had grown up in the ashram, was soon joined by his parents.
I looked at Kathi and Wayne in frustration. “If one more person cuts in front of me, I’m going to go up to the front with Larry.” Sure enough, more devotees got in line in front of us.
“You can join me if you want,” I told Kathi and Wayne. Then I walked up to Larry, who was standing a couple of dozen people ahead of us.
“Hi, Larry.”
He looked at me curiously. We’d only met a couple of times.
“I’m Kate’s friend, Karen.”
“Oh, hi,” he said and gave me a hug.
“A bunch of people have been cutting in front of us, so I decided to cut in front of them. I need to make sure we get seats.”
“Sounds good,” he said with a laugh. We chatted until the doors opened at 8:00 a.m.
We got through security and hurried into the courtroom. The devotees in front of us had already reserved chairs not only for themselves, but also for others who were yet to arrive. In several rows, shawls were spread out over several chairs. I followed Larry to the prosecution side of the courtroom, where they were saving the first three rows for the girls and members of the prosecution team.
I quickly assessed the mad scramble for seats and put my purse and a notebook on the two seats next to me for Kathi and Wayne. Several minutes later, they entered the courtroom and I called them over.
We chatted for the next hour while we waited for the trial to start. More people entered the packed courtroom, looked around for seats, and had to leave. Eric Dexheimer got there about twenty minutes to 9:00 a.m. and took one of the saved seats in the first three rows. He waved to me and sat down.
A television reporter entered the courtroom a few minutes later. She made a fuss to one of the bailiffs over the lack of seats for the press. Finally, he got her a chair from somewhere else and put it in the front row on the defense side, right next to Prabhakari and her parents.
A few minutes before the hour, the defendant was rolled in. Prakash used the backs of the lawyers’ chairs to make his way to his Lazy-Boy chair. Soon, the girls were escorted into the courtroom by Hays County officials. They took their seats in the first row. I watched their father at his two daughters, whom he had not seen in three years, including his newly pregnant youngest daughter, Vesla. He had always been close and loving with his children, but now he had abandoned them. He looked like a broken man, a shadow of his former self.
The lawyers took their seats. Judge Ramsay entered the room. He announced the start of the trial, and said each side would have forty minutes in which to make their final remarks to the jury. Each side divided the time between two lawyers. Amy would go first, followed by Gates and Kearney. Cathy would have the final word. But first Kearney’s partner, Winn, presented several of the defense’s now-infamous mid-trial motions. One of the requests was for lesser charges since there was no “proof of arousal” by the defendant during the “indecency with a child” charges. The judge denied this motion and all the rest.
Finally, the jury entered. We all stood up as they took their seats. I appreciated the ritual of showing respect to the twelve men and women who would soon decide Prakash’s fate.
Amy lead the final arguments by explaining how Prakash had used and abused his role as a spiritual leader to take advantage of innocent people and children.
“This is a simple case about exploitation of power and misuse of love. The defendant has used the power given to him as a religious leader, and he used the love and trust of his devotees to gain access to children… so he could fulfill his sexual desires. And that’s all that this case is about, a man exploiting the power given to him and abusing the love and the trust of families and children so he can get what he wants. And in the beginning when I told you that this trial was not going to be about religion and you will not be judging him for his religion or his devotees for what they believe, that still holds true. It doesn’t matter what religion he is. We only ask the people about their beliefs to show you that he had the power and the authority and that he had their love and trust. So that’s how he committed the crimes.”
She used slides to review each of the twenty counts of indecency with a child by sexual contact that he was accused of committing with Shyama and Vesla. Amy guessed the defense would stress the lack of evidence in their final remarks. She reminded the jury that they had all
agreed they could convict someone based on the “one witness rule.” She added, “It should be no surprise to anyone that our evidence is the testimonies of the girls.”
Amy went through all the defense witnesses and commented, with specific references, on how untrustworthy everyone’s testimony was.
“I want to talk quickly about their witnesses and the defense in this case. What did the defense witnesses come here to tell you? He’s never alone with these girls, and they’re liars. Okay? But look at who is telling you that. These are people who are still completely devoted to him. These are people who are still in service to him. These are people that still love him and trust him and believe in him. What those witnesses are, are just more proof that he is willing to use the love and trust of others to benefit himself.”
She closed her remarks by saying:
“These girls were brave to stand up for the truth. They endured threats, invasion of privacy, practically went into hiding, and lost their families. They spoke out because they knew if they didn’t they would be just as bad as the people who didn’t say anything. All they wanted was for it to stop. We are asking you to finish our fight for us. We did our job. The girls did their job. There is no one left to hold him responsible. We request that you convict him of everything he did. Tell them they matter. That what they endured was not for nothing. Tell them their choice to do something about it was worth something.”
As Amy had predicted, Kearney went right to the lack of evidence: “You have a duty to require them to provide evidence.” He cited a long list of “evidence” the defense had supplied, including several people who said the girls were known to be liars. He claimed the girls’ stories contradicted each other, and accused them of conspiring to make up the story to get back at their parents. He also made some comment about the impossibility of Prakash unhooking one of the girl’s bras with one hand.
He concluded by saying, “Maybe these girls really didn’t tell the truth… then you have a reasonable doubt.” He added: “We have done the best we could in representing Swamiji, and we have, for the last some time, had his future in our hands. When Ms. Gates sits down, it’s going to be in your hands, and I trust he’s in good hands.”
After carefully refreshing her lipstick, Gates got up and wrote “EVIDENCE” on a white board. She then turned to the jury and talked about how no one had supplied any evidence in the case—despite the fact that the prosecution had already made it clear they had no hard evidence to offer.
Then Cathy presented her final comments to the jury.
“Don’t you hate it when people treat you like you are stupid? And when they use parlor tricks and patronize you?
“They are acting like the defendant is the only one who matters. They are saying the accusers are conspirators, as if they are the ones on trial. It’s a parlor trick. These are the victims and they are not the ones on trial.
“The defense has attempted to baffle you with a bunch of BS that doesn’t matter. It’s circular logic. To believe them, you would have to believe that Kate is an evil mastermind who is capable of controlling the two other women. These women are not dumb. If they created a big nefarious plan to bring down a religion, they could have come up with a better story than he touched their breasts.
“A measure of the truth is the cost it took to bring it. What in the world have these girls gained? And what has been the cost to them? They’ve run the gauntlet even to get up here, enduring threats from people who once professed to love them.”
Throughout Cathy’s closing arguments, Prabhakari sat next to her parents with a sour expression, her lips pursed like she had smelled something bad. Periodically, she would shake her head, as if to say, “No, that’s not right.”
But Kearney was not as subtle in his disapproval. Every few minutes he interrupted Cathy with an objection, and the judge would deny it. Intermittently, with his head hanging down, he would mumble: “Request for mistrial, your honor.” In fact, Kearney asked for a mistrial a total of five times. Judge Ramsay denied every one.
Finally, in exasperation, Cathy beseeched the judge: “Your honor, Mr. Kearney is using up my time with his repeated objections. Can I have extra time to get through my comments?”
“We’ll see.”
Kearney continued his interruptions—clearly trying to waste Cathy’s time, throw her off her game, or perhaps by some miracle get Judge Ramsay to grant a mistrial.
Finally, Cathy was out of time.
“Can I have one more sentence, Your Honor?”
The judge nodded.
She faced the jury and gave one final comment: “Please find this man guilty. You will not be telling him a thing he doesn’t already know.”
113
Day Nine (Part Two)
Beyond a Shadow of a Doubt
FRIDAY, 4 MARCH 2011, 5:05 P.M.
Lawyers on both sides of a criminal trial are nervous when a jury returns with a verdict in under two hours.
Judge Ramsay had dismissed the jury members to deliberate at about 3:00 p.m. At about 4:30 p.m., several of us were waiting in the DA’s office, wondering how long it will take the jury to reach a verdict. At 5:05 p.m., I overheard someone in the hallway say, “They have a verdict?”
I stood up and rushed to the bathroom where Kate was standing at the mirror. “Oh my god. I wonder what they’ve decided.”
“Whatever it is, they are very sure about their decision,” she replied, in her typical wise-beyond-her-years way.
I hurried toward the courtroom. As I approached the doors, I saw a mass of devotees huddled in a circle off to one side of the hallway. Those on the outer edge were leaning in with their arms around each other to hear what someone at the center of the circle was saying.
When I entered the courtroom I saw Kathi and Wayne in their seats, and a few others scattered around the room. “The jury has a verdict,” I said.
“We know,” Kathi said. “One of the bailiffs just told us.”
“There’s a mass of devotees out in the hallway.”
“They were all in here and the lawyers took them out a few minutes ago,” Kathi said. “I walked by them on the way to the bathroom and overheard his lawyers say, ‘Do not have any reaction.’”
Kearney was no doubt prepping them for whichever verdict the jurors had reached—including a guilty one.
I was not as prepared. I wanted to hear one verdict and one verdict only. I had waited three years for this moment. Now that it was here, I thought I was going to faint. I was nearly hyperventilating. Luckily, Kathi had a bottle of Rescue Remedy in her purse and held a dropperful out to me. I opened my mouth like a baby bird and the tincture trickled down my throat. But it didn’t seem to help—my leg was shaking and my foot was tapping uncontrollably.
My brain raced and my eyes scanned the courtroom for any clue to the decision that would either vindicate the past three years of my life and my efforts to support the women and expose the guru and his organization, or turn me into the target of Barsana Dham’s attacks as a troublemaker and worse. I studied three of the four defense lawyers for clues as to what they were thinking. Kearney was sitting at the table with his head down. Gates was pacing—snapping her fingers and clicking her heels. Winn was pacing with smaller steps and puffing out air with each turn. They were all clearly worried. The devotees sat stone-faced, facing forward and not talking to each other.
Kate told me later that Cathy and Amy had given the girls a brief talk in the back room. “Cathy was really worried about how fast the jury had made their decision. She looked pretty miserable.”
The seconds ticked by. Finally, at 5:25 p.m., Judge Ramsay entered the courtroom. “Bring in the jury,” he instructed the bailiff in his deep, resounding southern accent.
The jury members entered with their poker faces firmly in place. I searched their faces for clues. And there it was: One woman looked toward the girls and gave the tiniest of smiles—so fleeting it was gone in a second.
The jury foreman handed the paper
work to the bailiff, who handed it to the judge. “Is this your decision? Say so by saying ‘yes.’”
“Yes,” they all said.
Judge Ramsay looked down at the paper. I grabbed Wayne’s thigh and squeezed it, leaning into him. Time was standing still. My whole body was shaking. My heart was pounding in my ears. I grabbed him by the shoulders and squeezed him harder.
Then Judge Ramsay finally spoke: “The verdict of the jury in Count I, We, the jury, find the defendant, Swami Ji, guilty of the offense of Indecency with a child by sexual contact as alleged in Count I of the indictment.”
Guilty! He was guilty! Never had a single word sounded sweeter. I took a huge gasp of air and tears of relief and happiness and pain streamed down my cheeks. I looked at the three girls who had been sitting rigidly in the front row between their two husbands and one brother. All three dropped their shoulders in a simultaneous expulsion of air. I could tell they were crying. I began sobbing loudly, squeezing Wayne even harder. Judge Ramsay continued reading the verdict:
“… and guilty as to Count II, guilty as Count III, guilty as to Count IV, guilty as to Count V and VI and VII and VIII and IX and X. That was in Cause Number 272. In Cause Number 273, the verdict is guilty in Count I and Count II, Count III, Count IV, Count V, Count VI, VII, VIII, IX, and X.”
I glanced at the devotees. They were stones, sitting motionless, looking forward. There seemed to be a special effect that made them all appear to be sitting in a shadow, as if a black cloud had snuffed out the light over them. The defense lawyers stood up and helped Prakash into his wheelchair. As they wheeled him down the aisle, I looked into the face of the man I used to call “guru.” He displayed no emotion whatsoever. In fact, he appeared oblivious to the fact that he was leaving the courtroom as a convicted child sex offender.