Never Goodbye

by Adam Mitzner

  When Stuart first broached this idea, I asked him if he truly believed that a happily-ever-after ending was possible for us. He didn’t waver.

  “I’m certain of it. I love you, and I think you love me. And I know we both love Jacob. Nothing else really matters besides that.”

  But of course, a lot of other things matter. Not the least of which is whether I’m found guilty of murder.

  PART FIVE

  43.

  ELLA BRODEN

  I begin as I always start an opening statement, by saying, “The People will prove that the defendant, Dana Goodwin, is guilty.” Then I point at the accused.

  It was Lauren who taught me the importance of pointing. On my first day, she told me and the other new arrivals to the Special Victims Bureau that you need to show the jury that you’re not afraid to stand in judgment. It tells them that they shouldn’t be either.

  With my arm still outstretched, I continue, “Dana Goodwin was engaged in an extramarital affair with Lauren Wright. You will see proof and hear testimony that Ms. Goodwin and Ms. Wright met on a weekly basis for months, always in hotel rooms, so that neither of their husbands would know about the affair. The most compelling evidence of Ms. Goodwin’s guilt will not come from a third party, however, but from the defendant herself. Her text messages to Lauren Wright, and Lauren’s messages back to the defendant, show that they were two people who, if not in love, were definitely in lust with each other. And one of those texts—the last text that Ms. Wright ever received—was sent by Ms. Goodwin at 1:03 a.m., asking Ms. Wright to meet her in Central Park. The very place where she was found dead a few hours later.”

  I tell them that Franklin Pearse’s ID matches Dana Goodwin’s physique, that she owns a black hoodie, and that the murder weapon was registered to the late Detective Papamichael, a cop who worked a case that Dana prosecuted four years earlier.

  I think it sounds compelling. But midway through my opening, I can feel that I’m losing the jurors. I’m not connecting the way I need to, which is evident by the vacant expressions I’m seeing from the twelve people who are charged with adjudicating Dana Goodwin’s guilt.

  Part of it is that I’m rusty. It’s been more than a year since I’ve tried a case. But I thought I’d handled jury selection well. The men and women who are seated are pretty close to the collection I was hoping for—older people, who I thought would be less willing to accept both the extramarital affair and its being of the same-sex variety; and no African American women, who jury consultants repeatedly told me in the past I do not connect well with. Moreover, I only need my eyes to know that women of all races love LeMarcus Burrows. My jury-selection strategy was vindicated by the fact that Burrows operated on exactly the antithetical premise, trying to fill the jury with African American women and millennials.

  I suspect the real weakness in my opening has nothing to do with my being out of practice, and far more with the fact that when it comes time for me to connect the dots for the jurors, I fall short. Although I’ve told them the who—Dana Goodwin—and the how—two gunshots to the head—I haven’t delivered on the why.

  Of course, there are really only a few options. Either Lauren ended the affair and Dana killed her in anger, or Dana ended it and then killed her because Lauren threatened revenge, most likely related to Dana’s continued employment—but it also might have been to prevent Lauren from telling Dana’s husband. A third possibility is that Dana decided to end it by killing her lover rather than risking the possible reprisals that would follow breaking up with her boss. This last scenario has the added benefits of not only ensuring that she remain gainfully employed but also probably securing her a promotion.

  The problem is that I have no idea which of those alternatives is true. The second-to-last text exchange they had—the last one being the text that drew Lauren into Central Park and to her death—suggested two people who couldn’t get enough of each other. In other words, not people on the verge of a nasty breakup.

  Rather than advance a theory that I can’t prove, I’d opted to leave the question open. It seemed like the smart move, as motive isn’t an element of murder—intent to commit the crime plus an overt act is all that’s required for conviction, and I have ample evidence to support each.

  The jurors’ faces tell me that I’m wrong. They want to know why. I can’t blame them. It’s hard to send someone—especially a young mother who has devoted her life to putting criminals behind bars—to jail for the rest of her life without knowing that.

  “That was good,” Kayla Kirk whispers to me when I return to counsel table. Now that Gabriel is a testifying witness, he’ll be sequestered from the courtroom during witness testimony, so Kayla has been added to the trial team to second-seat me. “You made a lot of strong points. I think the jury was engaged.”

  This is Kayla’s first jury trial, so her opinion doesn’t mean that much to me in any event. But knowing it’s not true makes her praise sound like a criticism. Worse still, I can hear Lauren’s voice in my head, telling me that I’m failing her.

  The sequester order doesn’t apply to opening statements. As a result, Gabriel is seated in the gallery’s first row. When our eyes meet, he smiles, but even though I’m sure he’s trying to convey that I’ve done well, this is not the smile he shows me at Lava.

  Judge Gold’s voice snaps me back to the trial. “Mr. Burrows, please present your opening statement.”

  44.

  DANA GOODWIN

  I’m sick to my stomach after hearing Ella Broden explain to the jury how I murdered Lauren.

  My reaction has nothing to do with surprise. Through pretrial discovery, I’ve seen the hotel registries and the photographs from the ATMs that Lauren and I visited together. I also knew that Ella would refer to the text message sent from my phone to Lauren on the night she was murdered as a smoking gun, and that I had worked a case with Papamichael a few years back, which linked me to the murder weapon. But every other time I considered the evidence, it was with a ready rebuttal thrown in, which allowed me to find solace that each piece was easily explainable. So I reasoned that many people have affairs—more than 50 percent of married people, according to some studies—but that only a statistically insignificant number end in murder. And I took comfort in knowing that Stuart would testify that I lost my phone before the text was sent, which explained that evidence away, and that Papamichael and I had only one case together, which was years ago; he had cases with hundreds of ADAs over his career. And Lauren and I were in love. And . . . and . . . and . . .

  When the evidence was presented by Ella, however, it sounded compelling. I’m reminded of LeMarcus’s concern that the jurors would make up their mind right after her opening. I pray that’s not true, because if it is, I’m going to be convicted.

  After Judge Gold tells him it’s his turn, LeMarcus stands and buttons his suit jacket. He cuts an impressive figure. Tall and trim and handsome as all get-out. By the smiles on their faces, it seems clear that the women jurors certainly like what they see.

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” LeMarcus says to Judge Gold, then pivots a half turn so he’s facing the jury. “The prosecutor—Ms. Broden—claims that Dana Goodwin killed Lauren Wright. But she never said why, now did she? And that is because there is no motive here. No fights. No breakup. It doesn’t make sense that a woman in love—and clearly Dana and Lauren were in love, as evidenced by their texts—would murder her lover for no reason. But let me tell you something that does make sense. It makes all the sense in the world. Lauren Wright was murdered by her husband.”

  The courtroom is eerily quiet at the dropping of this bombshell. The jurors, who had undoubtedly expected another long examination of the evidence, seem surprised that something so noteworthy has occurred so suddenly.

  “The defense agrees with quite a bit of what Ms. Broden said,” LeMarcus says. “We’re not going to pour water in your ear and tell you that it’s raining, after all. So, let’s get that stuff out of the way right now. It’s t
rue that Ms. Goodwin was Ms. Wright’s second-in-command. It’s true that they had an affair. Also one hundred percent correct that a text from Ms. Goodwin’s phone caused Ms. Wright to leave her home late at night and enter Central Park. And there’s no denying that Ms. Wright was shot twice at close range while she was there.”

  He stops and looks into the eyes of each juror. To a person, they hold his gaze.

  “But,” he says thunderously, “the evidence will show that Lauren Wright’s husband, a man named Richard Trofino, was in Dana’s office on the day of the murder. For several minutes, he was there alone. Alone in the office of the woman he knew was having an affair with his wife. That’s when it all clicked for Richard Trofino: a way he could solve all his problems. He no longer would be the jealous, humiliated husband. He would extract his revenge by killing his wife and framing her lover for the murder. All he had to do to carry out that plan was to take Ms. Goodwin’s cell phone. Once he had the phone, the rest was easy. He sent the text, snuck out of their building, fired two bullets into his wife’s head, grabbed her phone, returned home, and then put his wife’s phone back on the night table so that the police would be sure to discover the evidence that would lead them to arrest Dana Goodwin.”

  Richard sits in the gallery’s first row. Like all the witnesses, he’ll be sequestered when the testimony begins, but he is permitted to hear the openings, closings, and legal arguments. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch his profile. Although he’s trying to remain expressionless, it’s a thin mask. He’s obviously furious that my lawyer is branding him a murderer.

  “All of the evidence mentioned by Ms. Broden points much more at Mr. Trofino than at Ms. Goodwin. The gun was found near Mr. Trofino’s home, a borough away from where Ms. Goodwin lives. The prosecutor, Ms. Broden, she didn’t mention that, now did she? And the one case that Ms. Goodwin worked on with Detective Papamichael? That was more than four years ago. Besides, here’s another thing Ms. Broden didn’t tell you all: Lauren Wright had more than twenty cases with Detective Papamichael. If he was going to give someone a gun, who do you think it would be? Someone Detective Papamichael had one case with, or someone he had twenty cases with?

  “Ms. Goodwin’s phone, you ask? What about her phone? Well, Ms. Broden left out the part about Ms. Goodwin buying a new phone the next day, which tells you she didn’t have it the night of the murder—because it had already been stolen by Mr. Trofino. Of course, she just thought she lost it. You’ll hear Ms. Goodwin’s husband testify that his wife didn’t have the phone that night—that it was lost before the text was sent. And the ID by that homeless guy? Oh, what homeless guy? That’s right, Ms. Broden also didn’t tell you that her star witness, Mr. Franklin Pearse, is a homeless man. Here’s another thing she left out of her opening statement: Mr. Pearse’s description of the murderer’s stature exactly matches Mr. Trofino’s.”

  LeMarcus lets his accusations sink in. The silence as is as powerful as his argument.

  “In a murder case, to know the who is really a function of learning why they did it,” LeMarcus says. “But in her opening, Ms. Broden didn’t tell you the why. Why would Ms. Goodwin want to kill her lover, her work partner, her best friend? Ms. Broden didn’t tell you why because there is no reason that Dana Goodwin would do such a thing. But I’ll tell you why Richard Trofino killed his wife. He found out about the affair. He found out that his wife was in love with someone else—and that someone else was a woman. And for someone like Mr. Trofino—a mover and a shaker in this city—that was something that he could not abide.

  “The only reason—the only reason—that Ms. Goodwin is on trial here is because Ms. Wright’s phone was found,” LeMarcus continues, now nearly shouting. “The prosecution claims that she just ‘forgot’ it at home when she went out into the park. Lucky break for them, they say, and bad luck for Dana Goodwin. But I don’t believe in lucky breaks, not in a murder case. And neither should any of you. The reason Lauren Wright’s phone was not found on her dead body was because, after he murdered his wife, Richard Trofino took his wife’s phone out of her pocket and brought it home to make sure that there would be evidence pointing to Dana Goodwin. After all, who doesn’t take their phone with them after receiving a text to meet? And it’s that phone—and that phone alone—that links Dana Goodwin to the murder. Without it, well . . . Richard Trofino might as well be sitting at the defense table for murder.”

  It’s good theater, no doubt about that. The jurors are on the edge of their seats, hanging on LeMarcus’s every word.

  But it comes at a high price. It’s no longer going to be sufficient for us to argue that a faceless someone else murdered Lauren, or even that I should be acquitted because the prosecution has not sufficiently proved my guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. The trial has now become an election. The jurors will either vote guilty to convict me or not guilty to condemn Richard Trofino.

  45.

  ELLA BRODEN

  Gabriel is my first witness. I call him to the stand at the start of the day on Tuesday morning.

  At my insistence, he’s wearing a dark suit with a crisp, white shirt and a tie. Gabriel has testified more than a hundred times, but he told me this was the first time he’s ever been told what to wear—and then added that he usually only dons a suit for weddings.

  “Good morning, Lieutenant Velasquez.”

  “And to you, Ms. Broden.”

  “Lieutenant Velasquez, can you explain to the jury how you and I know each other?”

  I’ve scripted it this way to get the most damning part of the examination out of the way with some humor. My hope is that the jury will find it charming that the prosecution’s first witness is sleeping with the prosecutor. A Hepburn-and-Tracy thing, rather than a conflict of interest.

  “We have been dating for the past six months.”

  “And in that relationship, do I refer to you as Lieutenant Velasquez and do you call me Ms. Broden?”

  “No. We’re on a first-name basis,” he says with a smile.

  This generates the hoped-for chuckles from the jurors. I take a quick look at them. They’re onboard. My first problem has been solved.

  My outline for the direct examination has three parts. First, I’ll establish Gabriel’s bona fides as a detective, then I’ll segue to our dinner with Lauren and Richard. That will be the low point of the direct, playing into the defense’s argument that Richard might be Lauren’s murderer, so I want to get it out of the way early. I considered not addressing it at all, but concluded it was better for the jury to hear the story first from Gabriel. That way, when LeMarcus Burrows goes back over it on cross, it’ll feel like old news. Once that’s dealt with, the lion’s share of Gabriel’s testimony will catalogue the proof we have against Dana.

  “What role, if any, did you have in the investigation into Lauren Wright’s murder?” I ask.

  “I was the police officer in charge of the investigation.”

  “Did you handle that investigation alone?”

  “No. I was partnered with Dana Goodwin.”

  “The defendant?”

  “Yes,” he says. I had asked Gabriel to point at her when he said her name, but he’s apparently forgotten.

  “How did it come about that you and Ms. Goodwin were partners in the investigation?”

  “She was Lauren Wright’s deputy. The thought at the time was that she knew more about Lauren than anyone else in the District Attorney’s office, and so it would be helpful to have her assistance.”

  “During the investigation, did Ms. Goodwin ever tell you that she had been engaged in a sexual affair with Lauren Wright?”

  “No. She did not.”

  “Would that have been an important fact for you to know?”

  “Of course. Among the first things we focused on was whether Ms. Wright might have been having an affair. Ms. Goodwin knew that she was, and yet she kept that highly critical information to herself.”

  So far, so good. I feel at home in court, handling a witness agai
n. Like riding a bicycle. Then again, this witness is my boyfriend. It’s bound to get more difficult.

  “Did you know Lauren Wright before you were assigned to investigate her murder?”

  “I did. My girlfriend . . . you, Ms. Broden . . . worked for Ms. Wright. I didn’t know her well when you worked for her. After we started dating, you talked about her from time to time, and we had dinner with Lauren and her husband, Richard Trofino, on the night she was murdered.”

  I don’t need to look at the jurors to know that they are paying attention now. I can feel the tension in the room rising. LeMarcus Burrows has done his job in setting up Richard as the alternative murderer to Dana. The jurors want to know how he acted that night.

  “Please tell the jury everything—and I mean everything—that you recall from that dinner.”

  “As you can imagine, in light of the fact that I learned the next morning that Lauren had been murdered, I’ve given that dinner quite a bit of thought. So my memory is pretty clear, even though it’s been more than a month since the event. I remember Richard and Lauren were already at the restaurant when we arrived. I had met Lauren before, but never socially, and I had not met Richard previously, so we exchanged the usual greetings. ‘Nice to meet you.’ ‘What do you do for a living?’ That kind of thing. It was all very normal. During dinner, I got the sense that Lauren was unhappy that Richard consumed as much alcohol as he did, but other than that, they seemed like any normal married couple.”

  “Tell the jury what gave rise to your impressions regarding the alcohol issue.”

  In my discussions with Richard to prepare him for his testimony, he steadfastly denied that there was any tension between Lauren and him that night. He said that he didn’t perceive she was angry that he had a scotch or two before ordering the wine and claimed that was not uncommon for him. As much as I preferred Richard’s version to Gabriel’s, I knew that Gabriel had already shared his take on the dinner with Dana. It was therefore sure to come out on cross, so the smart play was for me to draw the teeth now.