Path to Justice

by Jim Dutton

  Judge Orsini sustained the defense objection in front of the jury and had Josh proceed with the questioning. Josh carried on like the objection was of no matter and the rest of Zack’s testimony came in without further objection. The defense worked on Reynolds, but with a singular lack of success. Reynolds had spent too many days being examined by defense attorneys when he was a detective to get tripped up.

  After the jury was excused for the day, Flanigan asked the judge to order the prosecution to provide the chronological order of the witnesses for the next day.

  Nick responded, “They have the names of the witnesses we plan to call over the next two days, including the protected witness. Because of serious security concerns, we don’t want to inform the defense of the exact time the protected witness is expected to testify.”

  Judge Orsini responded, “Under the circumstances with the multiple deadly attacks directed towards the protected witness, Mr. Drummond you have fulfilled your obligation of notice. Adjourned for the day.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Nick sat in a bullet-proof town car. Four armed U.S. Marshal deputies were outside. Two other town cars were parked beside his. They were all waiting on the tarmac at Montgomery Field for the jet carrying Felicia to arrive. It was landing in a few minutes. Nick thought how best to handle Felicia as a witness. He’d be gentle, treating her like a sexual assault victim. He would ask Judge Orsini to allow him to stand near her while he questioned her. He could block her vision of Luis until he asked her to identify him. This day was a long time coming, many sacrifices by many people had been made. Deputy U.S. Marshal Perkins was still in a coma.

  The sleek, 12-passenger jet taxied right up to a deputy marshal who was speaking into a radio. A staircase descended from the front of the plane. Nick got out of the car and walked to the plane. He could barely see Felicia coming down the stairs behind a burly deputy. As the deputy passed Nick, he saw Felicia’s eyes, brown and large, like a doe’s eyes, afraid that a predator was nearby. When she saw Nick, she gave him a nervous smile. Nick walked over and gave her a hug. He held her for several seconds until Felicia relaxed and gave him a hug back. He whispered to her, “Being of English descent, hugging hasn’t always been my cup of tea. But I’m so glad to see you. You’ll get through this. I’ll be with you at all times.”

  Nick then went to greet the U.S. Marshal SAC, Roger Poon, who was the last to descend from the plane. “Thank you Roger for arranging this.”

  “You have our total support—we’ve a deputy fighting for her life back in Topeka. The plane will be on standby until Felicia finishes her testimony. We’ll fly her out to the new safe house location.” They briefly discussed the security measures for Felicia’s arrival at the courthouse and getting her into the courtroom. Nick went back to his town car and sat next to Felicia in the back seat. A deputy was on her other side and a second deputy was in the front passenger seat. SAC Poon and other armed deputies took their seats in the other two cars. The motorcade pulled out, with Nick’s and Felicia’s car in the middle.

  Nick spent most of the ride to the courthouse going over Felicia’s expected testimony. He wanted to just hit the highlights and not keep her on the stand too long. He knew the defense attorneys would go after her, trying to make a bloodless kill on the stand. Nick wanted her on and off the stand in one day. Nick cautioned her to take her time in answering the questions and to just answer the questions asked. And if she didn’t remember or didn’t know something, it was fine to say, “I don’t remember or I don’t know.” On cross-examination, he emphasized the importance of listening to the defense questions carefully. He explained that sometimes a part of their question may call for a “no” response, while the other part a “yes” response. If there is an objection to a question, she must wait until Judge Orsini rules. The bottom line he told her was to tell the truth, and not embellish or understate. Finally, Nick told her that a jury senses when someone is telling the truth and will support that witness.

  They drove to the back of the federal courthouse, down a steep driveway leading from a street-level iron gate. Deputy marshals were waiting for them at the loading dock at the bottom of the ramp. Nick and Felicia were ushered into a freight elevator with three deputies. The elevator took them up to the courtroom floor where they were whisked into a private, back hallway. Felicia was placed with her escorts in a small waiting room near Orsini’s courtroom while Nick entered the courtroom.

  The jury, the defendants and the attorneys were all accounted for when Judge Orsini took the bench. He looked towards Nick, “Call your first witness.”

  “Your Honor, the People call Felicia Esperanza-Salas to the stand.” There was an audible gasp in the courtroom. The “professional” court watchers in attendance, who had been following the case in the news, were aware of Felicia’s importance. Nick continued, “Based on the circumstances, may I be allowed to question the witness from in front of the witness stand, instead of from the lectern?”

  “You may,” responded Judge Orsini. Judge Orsini looked toward the audience. “There will be no more outbursts from anyone viewing these proceedings. The person or persons making any further outbursts will be removed by a bailiff.”

  Felicia was led from the back hallway by a bailiff. Nick strode toward her, smiling. Her eyes were downcast and she seemed to have shrunken into herself. Felicia was sworn in and gave her full name, at all times her eyes never left Nick. Nick, in his most soothing voice, established that Felicia was from San Diego, and had attended a local community college. The background questions calmed Felicia. She straightened up in the witness chair and spoke more forcefully.

  Nick asked her whether she knew a Luis Hernandez-Lopez. She described how they met at the races in Del Mar a year and a half ago. Felicia related her first impressions of Luis—so handsome, smooth, and sophisticated. He’d talk to her about his travels in Europe and South America as if they were everyday occurrences. It was a whirlwind romance. She felt like Cinderella, discovered by a man of the world. The fine dining, the fancy nightclubs, and the new clothes he bought her were irresistible. She didn’t hesitate when, a month after they met, he asked her to move into his palatial grounds in the foothills above Rosarito Beach. It was exciting at first. He took her out on his Donzi ocean speedboat and she rode on the back of his red Ducati motorcycle.

  Felicia became homesick. Luis controlled her life. He wouldn’t let her call her aunt. She could only write her letters.

  At first, Felicia admitted she was excited by the armed guards patrolling Luis’ compound. Luis told her not to think anything about them. There were a lot of kidnappers in Mexico. They were there to keep them safe. Felicia noticed that when a couple of older Mexican gentlemen would visit Luis, that they had armed guards with them, and Luis had more guards posted. She described one of the men as a distinguished, silver haired, aristocrat-looking man. The only man that she ever saw Luis defer to. Asked if the older man was in court, she identified defendant Mateo Gomez-Encinas.

  Felicia described the other older man as being solidly built, with a bull neck and a pronounced scar down the right side of his face. He was always scowling. Felicia identified him as defendant Rael Trujillo-Sanchez.

  Felicia spoke of sumptuous dinners with the men. Fresh lobsters, from a nearby fishing village, Puerto Nuevo, were brought in. At a few of these dinners, a paunchy gringo with glasses attended. She identified him from the People’s photo board as Lester Sendow. She remembered that he lived in San Diego and was an accountant. After each dinner, Luis sent her to her room while the men smoked cigars, drank brandy and talked in the den. Before going to her bedroom, Felicia caught a few words about poppies in the Mexican state of Jalisco, and warehouses throughout the United States.

  She remembered, towards the end of her stay at the compound, that Luis, Señor Encinas and Señor Sanchez had been drinking wine more heavily then usual. There was tension around the table. She tried to make po
lite conversation, but the men ignored her. She hung outside the den more than usual that night before going upstairs. Heated words were exchanged between Señors Encinas and Sanchez. “Señor Encinas said in a loud voice, in Spanish, ‘Tell me before you decide to take somebody out!’”

  “Sanchez responded, ‘I’m in charge of enforcement, it was my call.’”

  Felicia testified, “Luis interjected, ‘We need to quiet down. No one will miss that culebra.’ Sorry, culebra means snake in English.”

  Nick asked her, “What did you think they were talking about?” Counsel Lipman jumped up immediately.

  “Objection, speculation!”

  Nick responded, “Goes to her state of mind to explain her future actions.”

  “I’ll let it in for that purpose.”

  “Go ahead Ms. Salas,” Nick urged.

  “The last bit of conversation I thought was about killing someone. It fit with prior conversations I had overheard, and observations I had made. Luis kept telling me that he was partners with the other two in an agricultural, import-export business. It made me question if they were really involved in a legitimate business. All the armed guards, the huge compound, the fancy toys. I began thinking of it as a drug dealing organization.”

  “Did that cause you to do something the next day.”

  “Yes, I went to explore the garage when no one was in the area, under the pretense I was looking for a missing cat. Luis had told me several times not to go into the garage.”

  “What did you find, if anything?”

  “At the far end of the garage, there were several crates stacked up. On the floor, next to the bottom crate, was the largest bullet I had ever seen.”

  “Describe it for us.”

  “It was about six inches long, mostly gold in color, with the top third being copper with a black tip. It was clean and shiny. It looked brand new.”

  “How do you remember it so well?”

  “I picked it up and looked at it carefully. I never knew that a bullet could be so big.”

  “On the overhead screen, to your rear, is a photo of a bullet, with a tape measure by its side, showing the bullet to be six inches long. Did it look like this bullet?’

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “Your Honor, it is stipulated by the parties, that the photo is of a 50 caliber, armor piercing bullet.”

  “What did you do, after you found the bullet?

  “I told Luis about it that night. He said it was just probably some old bullet lying around from the previous owner. He told me that I wasn’t supposed to be in the garage and for me never to go in there, for my own safety. I ignored what he told me and I snuck into the garage the next day. The crates and the bullet were gone.”

  Nick took Felicia through more questioning that strengthened their case against the defendants. He elicited that she saw oil tanker trucks outside of the compound garage on several occasions. Nick would later argue that they were being used to transport large amounts of marijuana into the U.S. as was shown by satellite photos of the oil tanker truck at the cartel’s Otay Mesa warehouse. He also brought out details that supported Luis and the cartel using Luis’ Donzi as part of their north coast San Diego smuggling operation. She spoke about speeding along the crest of the ocean waves at speeds of up to 70 miles per hour and Luis’ obsession in keeping his Donzi spotless. There were no marks on it. Felicia also described Luis asking her about north San Diego County beaches and if anybody was on them late at night. Lastly, she described seeing Luis checking out tide patterns for the beaches on his computer.

  Nick then breached the sensitive area of Luis’ domestic violence towards her. “Do you recognize this photograph?”

  Felicia squirmed in the witness chair. She looked sad, frightened and embarrassed, all at the same time. “It’s me, taken at the U.S. Border Patrol office after I escaped from Luis.”

  Nick smiled to himself, he liked the tone of anger in Felicia’s voice. Nick asked to have the photo passed among the jurors. It’d have more impact that way—be more personal than looking at a photo projected on a screen. Nick looked at the jurors as they passed around the photo. Most had a look of disgust on their faces. A couple of the women had sympathetic, sad looks. “Ms. Salas, how did you get a swollen, black eye, and multiple bruises on your face?”

  Felicia’s response burst out of her, “The evening before, Luis beat me. He hit my right eye with his closed fist, and slapped me several times, hard, in the face, with the back of his hand. He also kicked my legs a number of times, but the photo doesn’t show those bruises.”

  Felicia begin to quietly sob. Nick asked, “Do you need some time?”

  “No, no, I need to get through this.”

  “Okay, what happened just before defendant Lopez beat you?’

  “We were arguing. I told him I felt like a prisoner. I could never leave the compound without his armed guards. He wouldn’t allow me to go back to San Diego to visit my aunt and friends. He called me an ‘ungrateful bitch’ and that he had given me everything I wanted. When I told him I wanted to leave him and go see my aunt, that’s when he started to beat me. He kept saying over and over, ‘You’re not going anywhere, bitch. You’re mine. No bitch leaves me unless I kick her out on her ass.”

  Nick stepped aside so that he was no longer blocking Felicia’s view of Luis. Do you see Luis Hernandez-Lopez in the courtroom today?”

  Felicia stared right at Luis. Her lips dropped, her eyes closed, anguish registered on her face. She began to tremble. The jurors’ eyes were transfixed on her. “Yes, that’s him, sitting at the far left table, with the blue tie,” as she pointed her finger directly at Luis. “I had never wanted to see him again,” shielding her eyes from his view.

  Lipman’s voice rang out, “Object, last statement, unresponsive!”

  Judge Orsini responded, “Sustained. Strike, ‘I had never wanted to see him again,’ and you’re not to consider it.” That was fine with Nick. The judge had repeated Felicia’s words—her testimony, her anguish, and revulsion in hiding her eyes from Luis would remain with the jury. Nick stepped back, again blocking Felicia’s direct view of Luis.

  “How were you able to leave the next day?”

  “Later that evening I pretended to make up with him. He apologized to me and said he never wanted to see me go. I lied to him. I told him I was really happy there, but I just got homesick once in a while. That seemed to appease him, and the next day the guards weren’t paying attention to me. At the side of the main house, there was an old Toyota that servants use to go to town to buy groceries and household items. I grabbed the keys off the pantry hook and waited for the gates to open for an incoming vehicle. I had a shawl wrapped around my head and shoulders like I was one of the servant girls who worked there. My heart was racing. I was almost too afraid to try it. I made myself drive normally through the gate, not looking at the one guard that was nearby. I waved my hand. I headed straight for the border.”

  “Did you have anything in the Toyota’s glove compartment?”

  “Yes, some cocaine.”

  “What happened to you after you were stopped at the border?”

  “You and other people interviewed me. I showed Pepe there, pointing to agent Cantana, sitting next to Nick at counsel table, and Agent Ana where Luis’s condo was located in the Coronado Keys. I also showed them where his ranch-warehouse was located in Otay Mesa. You had me speak to an attorney and I was placed in witness protection.”

  Nick had instructed Felicia that they couldn’t talk about what happened in Kansas, but could talk about the motorcycle shooting.

  “At some point, when you were in witness protection, out of state, did you come back to San Diego?” Nick wasn’t worried about establishing exact dates with Felicia. Other witnesses could establish when she came across the border, and when she came back to San Diego.

  “Yes, I got
so homesick. I wasn’t supposed to communicate with anyone back home for my safety. I bought a cheap phone at a convenience store and called my aunt. I said I was taking the bus and I would see her in two days. I took a Greyhound bus to Vegas and then on to the downtown terminal in San Diego. From there I took a local bus that stopped a block from my aunt’s house in Chula Vista.”

  “What happened next?’

  “I was so excited to see my Tia. I got out of the bus and hurried towards her home. I was thinking about the big, warm hug she was going to give me. I stepped on her driveway when I heard a roar of a motorcycle down the street. The next thing I remember, Agent Pepe slammed into me, knocking me down. Gunfire was all around me. I couldn’t breathe, Pepe was on top me. Gunshots were going off in my ear. I heard Ana yell out. The motorcycle noise passed and the gunfire stopped.”

  “Were you hit by gunfire?”

  “No. Pepe protected me by shielding my body from the bullets. I screamed when I saw Ana down on the sidewalk, with blood pouring out of her. Pepe yelled for me to go into my aunt’s house and call 9-1-1 and say there was an officer shot. I ran into my aunt’s house and called.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  “I was so scared, I couldn’t think. I was numb. I just cried into my aunt’s shoulder.”

  Nick waited a few moments to let it sink in with the jury. “No further questions at this time.”

  During the lunch recess, Rona brought in fish tacos for Felicia, Pepe, Nick and Josh. They stayed in the small room off of the courtroom. The defense had started questioning Felicia before the recess, but so far hadn’t made any significant inroads. Nick was a little surprised that Sanchez’ counsel had handled her with kid gloves. He expected that to change.

  Encinas’ attorney, Flanigan, started his cross-examination after lunch. He spent some time establishing that his client had always treated her well. Never a coarse or angry word towards her. He got Felicia to say that Encinas reminded her of her grandfather. A dignified, civil man. After softening Felicia up, Flanigan started on the cocaine found in the Toyota’s glove compartment at the border.