Freeman stood and asked for a sidebar. We approached and she stated her objection in a forceful whisper.
“How is this relevant? Where are we going with this? He now has us on Wall Street and that has nothing to do with Lisa Trammel and the evidence against her.”
“Your Honor,” I said quickly, before he could cut me off. “The relevance will become apparent soon. Ms. Freeman knows exactly where this is headed and she just doesn’t want to go there. But the court has given me the latitude to put forth a defense involving third-party guilt. Well, this is it, Judge. This is where it comes together and so I ask for the court’s continued indulgence.”
Perry didn’t have to think too long before answering.
“Mr. Haller, you may proceed but I want you to land this plane soon.”
“Thank you, Judge.”
We returned to our positions and I decided to move things along at a quicker pace.
“Mr. Opparizio, back in January, when you were in the midst of these negotiations with LeMure, you knew you stood to make a great deal of money if this deal went through, did you not?”
“I would be generously compensated for the years I spent growing the company.”
“But if you lost one of your biggest clients—to the tune of forty million in annual revenues—that deal would have been in peril, correct?”
“There was no threat from any client to leave.”
“I draw your attention back to the letter Mr. Bondurant sent you, sir. Wouldn’t you say that there is a clear threat from Mr. Bondurant to take WestLand’s business away from you? I believe you still have a copy of the letter there in front of you, if you want to refer to it.”
“I don’t need to look at the letter. There was no threat to me whatsoever. Mitch sent me the letter and I took care of the problem.”
“Like the way you took care of Donald Driscoll?”
“Objection,” Freeman said. “Argumentative.”
“I’ll withdraw it. Mr. Opparizio, you received this letter smack-dab in the middle of your deal making with LeMure, correct?”
“It was during negotiations, yes.”
“And at the time you received this letter from Mr. Bondurant, you knew he was in financial straits himself, correct?”
“I knew nothing about Mr. Bondurant’s personal financial situation.”
“Did you not have an employee of your company do financial background searches on Mr. Bondurant and other bankers you dealt with?”
“No, that’s ridiculous. Whoever said that is a liar.”
It was time for me to test Herb Dahl’s work as a double agent.
“At the time Mr. Bondurant sent you that letter, was he aware of your secret dealings with LeMure?”
Opparizio’s answer should have been “I don’t know.” But I had told Dahl to send back word through his handler that the Trammel legal team had found nothing on this key part of the defense strategy.
“He knew nothing about it,” Opparizio said. “I had kept all of our client banks in the dark while negotiations were ongoing.”
“Who is LeMure’s chief financial officer?”
Opparizio seemed momentarily nonplussed by the question and the seeming change in direction.
“That would be Syd Jenkins. Sydney Jenkins.”
“And was he the leader of the acquisition team you dealt with on the LeMure deal?”
Freeman objected and asked where this was going. I told the judge he would know shortly and he allowed me to continue, telling Opparizio to answer the question.
“Yes, I dealt with Syd Jenkins on the acquisition.”
I opened a file and removed a document while asking the judge for permission to approach the witness with it. As expected, Freeman objected and we had a spirited sidebar over the admissibility of the document. But just as Freeman had won the battle over presenting Driscoll with the internal investigation report from ALOFT, Judge Perry evened the score, allowing me to introduce the document subject to his later ruling.
Permission granted, I handed a copy to the witness.
“Mr. Opparizio, can you tell the jury what that document is?”
“I can’t tell for sure.”
“Is it not a printout from a digital daybook?”
“If you say so.”
“And what name is on the top of the sheet there.”
“Mitchell Bondurant.”
“And what is the date on the page?”
“December thirteenth.”
“Can you read the appointment entry for ten o’clock?”
Freeman asked for a sidebar and once more we stood in front of the judge.
“Your Honor, Lisa Trammel is on trial here. Not Louis Opparizio or Mitchell Bondurant. This is what happens when someone takes advantage of the court’s goodwill when given leeway. I object to this line of questioning. Counsel is taking us far afield of the matter this jury must decide.”
“Judge,” I said. “Again this goes to third-party guilt. This is a page from the digital diary turned over to the defense in discovery. The answer to this question will make it clear to the jury that the victim in this case was involved in subtly extorting the witness. And that is a motive for murder.”
“Judge, this—”
“That’s enough, Ms. Freeman. I will allow it.”
We returned to our places and the judge told Opparizio to answer the question. I repeated it for the sake of the jury.
“What is listed on Mr. Bondurant’s calendar for ten o’clock on December thirteenth?”
“It says ‘Sydney Jenkins, LeMure.’ ”
“So would you not take from that log line that Mr. Bondurant became aware of the ALOFT-LeMure deal in December of last year?”
“I couldn’t begin to know what was said at that meeting or if it even took place.”
“What reason would the man leading the acquisition of ALOFT have for meeting with one of ALOFT’s most important bank clients?”
“You would have to ask Mr. Jenkins that.”
“Perhaps I will.”
Opparizio had developed a scowl in the course of the questioning. The Herb Dahl plant had worked well. I moved on.
“When did the deal on the sale of ALOFT to LeMure close?”
“The deal closed in late February.”
“How much was it sold for?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“LeMure is a publicly traded company, sir. The information is out there. Could you save us the time and—”
“Ninety-six million dollars.”
“Most of which, as sole owner, went to you, correct?”
“A good portion of it, yes.”
“And you got stock in LeMure as well, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“And you remain president of ALOFT, don’t you?”
“Yes. I still run the company. I just have bosses now.”
He tried a smile but most of the working stiffs in the courtroom didn’t see the humor in the comment, considering the millions he had taken out of the deal.
“So you are still intimately involved in the day-to-day operations of the company?”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“Mr. Opparizio, was your personal take in the sale of ALOFT sixty-one million dollars, as reported by the Wall Street Journal?”
“They got that wrong.”
“How so?”
“My deal was worth that amount, but it didn’t come to me all at once.”
“You get deferred payments?”
“Something along those lines but I don’t really see what this has to do with who killed Mitch Bondurant, Mr. Haller. Why am I here? I had nothing to—”
“Your Honor?”
“Hold on a moment, Mr. Opparizio,” the judge said.
He then leaned forward over the bench and paused as if to contemplate something.
“We’re going to take our morning break now and counsel will join me in chambers. The court is in recess.”
Once more we
followed the judge back into chambers. Once more I was going to be the one put on the spot. But I was so angry at Perry that I went on the offensive. I stayed standing while both he and Freeman took seats.
“Your Honor, with all due respect, I had a certain momentum going out there and taking the morning break early is killing it.”
“Mr. Haller, you may have had plenty of momentum but it was taking you far away from this case. I have bent over backward to allow you to present a third-party defense but I am beginning to feel I’ve been had.”
“Judge, I was four questions away from bringing it all back home to this case but you just stopped me.”
“You stopped yourself, Counsel. I can’t sit up there and let this go on. Ms. Freeman’s been objecting, now even the witness is objecting. And I’m looking like a fool. You’re fishing. You told me and you told those jurors that you would not only prove that your client didn’t commit the crime, but that you would prove who did. But we are now five witnesses into the defense case and you are still fishing.”
“Your Honor, I can’t believe—look, I am not fishing here. I am proving. Bondurant had threatened to cost that man out there sixty-one million dollars. It is obvious and anyone with common sense sees this. And if that is not motive for a murder then I guess I—”
“Motive isn’t proof,” Freeman said. “It’s not evidence and you obviously don’t have any. The defense’s whole case is a charade. What’s next, you name everybody Bondurant was foreclosing on as a suspect?”
I pointed down at her in the chair.
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea. But the fact is the defense case is not a charade and if allowed to continue my examination of the witness I will get to the evidence very quickly.”
“Sit down, Mr. Haller, and please watch your tone when you are addressing me.”
“Yes, Your Honor. I apologize.”
I sat down and waited while Perry brooded over the situation. Finally, he spoke.
“Ms. Freeman, anything else?”
“I think the court is well aware of how the prosecution views what Mr. Haller has been allowed to do. I warned early and often that he would create a sideshow that had nothing to do with the case at hand. We are well past that point now and I have to agree with the court’s assessment that all of this makes the court look foolish and manipulated.”
She had gone too far. I could see the skin around Perry’s eyes tighten as she stated that he looked like a fool. I think she’d had him in her hand but then lost him.
“Well, thank you very much, Ms. Freeman. I think at this time I’m inclined to go back out and give Mr. Haller one final chance to tie it all in. Do you understand what I mean by final chance, Mr. Haller?”
“Yes, Your Honor. I will comply.”
“You’d better, sir, because the court’s patience has drawn thin. Let’s go back now.”
Out at the defense table I saw Aronson waiting by herself and realized she hadn’t followed me into chambers. I sat down wearily.
“Where’s Lisa?”
“In the hallway with Dahl. What happened?”
“I’ve got one more chance. I have to move things up and go in for the kill now.”
“Can you do it?”
“We’ll see. I’ve got to run out to the facilities before we start again. Why didn’t you come into chambers?”
“No one asked me to, and I didn’t know if I should just follow you in.”
“Next time follow me in.”
Courthouse designs are good at separating parties. Jurors have their own assembly and deliberation rooms, and there are aisles and gates to separate opposing parties and supporters. But the restrooms are the great equalizers. You step into one of these and you never know who you will encounter. I pushed through the inner door of the men’s room and almost walked right into Opparizio, who was washing his hands at the sink. He was bent over and looked up at me in the mirror.
“Well, Counselor, did the judge slap your hands a little bit?”
“That’s none of your business. I’ll find another restroom.”
I turned around to leave but Opparizio stopped me.
“Don’t bother. I’m leaving.”
He shook his wet hands off and moved toward the door, coming very close to me and then suddenly stopping.
“You are despicable, Haller,” he said. “Your client is a murderer and you have the balls to try to cast the blame on me. How do you look at yourself in the mirror?”
He turned and gestured toward the line of urinals.
“This is where you belong,” he said. “In the toilet.”
Forty-nine
It all came down to the next half hour—maybe an hour at the most. I sat at the defense table, composing my thoughts and waiting. Everyone was in place except for the judge, who remained in chambers, and Opparizio, who was smugly conferring with his two attorneys in the first row of the gallery where they had reserved seats. My client leaned toward me and whispered, so that not even Aronson could hear.
“You have more, right?”
“Excuse me?”
“You have more, don’t you, Mickey? More to go after him with?”
Even she knew that what I had already trotted out was not enough. I whispered back.
“We’ll know before lunch. We’ll either be drinking champagne or crying in our soup.”
The door to the judge’s chambers opened and Perry emerged. He called for the jury and the witness to return to the stand before he was even seated on the bench. A few minutes later I was back at the lectern, staring down Opparizio. The restroom confrontation seemed to give him renewed confidence. He adopted a relaxed posture that announced to the world that he was home free. I decided that there was no sense in waiting. It was time to start swinging.
“Now then, Mr. Opparizio, continuing our discussion from before, you have not been completely truthful in your testimony today, have you?”
“I have been completely honest and I resent the question.”
“You lied from the start, didn’t you, sir? Giving a false name when sworn in by the clerk.”
“My name was legally changed thirty-one years ago. I did not lie and it has nothing to do with this.”
“What is the name that is on your birth certificate?”
Opparizio paused and I think I saw the first inkling or recognition of where I was going with this.
“My birth name was Antonio Luigi Apparizio. Like now but spelled with an A. Growing up, people called me Lou or Louie because there were a lot of Anthonys and Antonios in the neighborhood. I decided to go with Louis. I legally changed my name to Anthony Louis Opparizio. I Americanized it. That’s it.”
“But why did you change the spelling of your last name too?”
“There was a professional baseball player at the time named Luis Aparicio. I thought the names were too close. Louis Apparizio and Luis Aparicio. I didn’t want to have a name so close to a famous person’s so I changed the spelling. Is that okay with you, Mr. Haller?”
The judge admonished Opparizio to simply answer the questions and not ask them.
“Do you know when Luis Aparicio retired from professional baseball?” I asked.
I glanced at the judge after asking the question. If his patience was being stretched before, it was now probably as thin as the piece of paper a contempt citation would be printed on.
“No, I don’t know when he retired.”
“Does it surprise you to learn that it was eight years before you changed your name?”
“No, it doesn’t surprise me.”
“But you expect the jury to believe that you changed your name to avoid a match to a baseball player long out of the game?”
Opparizio shrugged.
“It’s what happened.”
“Isn’t it true that you changed your name from Apparizio to Opparizio because you were an ambitious young man and wanted to at least outwardly distance yourself from your family?”
“No, untrue. I did want to hav
e a more American-sounding name, but I wasn’t distancing myself from anyone.”
I saw Opparizio’s eyes make a quick dart in the direction of his attorneys.
“You were originally named after your uncle, were you not?” I asked.
“No, that’s not true,” Opparizio answered quickly. “I wasn’t named after anyone.”
“You had an uncle named Antonio Luigi Apparizio, the same name as on your birth certificate, and you are saying it was just coincidence?”
Realizing his mistake in lying, Opparizio tried to recover but only made it worse.
“My parents never told me who I was named after or even if I was named after someone.”
“And a bright person like you didn’t put it together?”
“I never thought about it. When I was twenty-one I came west and was not close to my family anymore.”
“You mean geographically?”
“In any way. I started a new life. I stayed out here.”
“Your father and your uncle were involved in organized crime, were they not?”
Freeman quickly objected and asked for a sidebar. When we got there she did everything but roll her eyes back into her head as she tried to communicate her frustration.
“Your Honor, enough is enough. Counsel may show no shame in besmirching the reputations of his own witnesses, but this has to end. This is a trial, Judge, not a deep-sea fishing trip.”
“Your Honor, you told me to move quickly and that is what I am doing. I have an offer of proof that clearly shows this is no fishing trip.”
“Well, what is it, Mr. Haller?”
I handed the judge a thick bound document I had carried to the sidebar. There were several Post-its of different colors protruding from its pages.
“That is the U.S. Attorney General’s ‘Report to Congress on Organized Crime.’ It’s dated nineteen eighty-six and the AG at the time was Edwin Meese. If you go to the yellow Post-it and open the page, the highlighted paragraph is my offer of proof.”
The judge read the passage and then turned the book around so Freeman could read it. Before she was finished he ruled on the objection.
“Ask your questions, Mr. Haller, but I’m giving you about ten minutes to connect the dots. If you don’t do it by then, I’m going to shut you down.”
“Thank you, Judge.”
The Fifth Witness: A Novel Page 40