YUKI SAT BESIDE the immense form of Len Parisi as Junie Moon’s sleazebag pimp-boyfriend, Ricardo “Ricky” Malcolm, was sworn in.
Yuki was fully aware that Davis had hired a bounty hunter to drag Ricky Malcolm over the Mexican border for his court appearance, and as Malcolm swore to tell the whole truth, she wondered if Davis really thought this punked-out, tattooed, and homely creep could persuade the jury of anything. Davis’s voice was confident as she asked Malcolm her preliminary questions, getting out ahead of the prosecution by getting Malcolm to say he’d served time for drug possession.
Then Davis started her direct examination in earnest.
What’s your relationship to Ms. Moon
I was her boyfriend.
No longer
We’re separated,” Malcolm said drily. “I’m in Tijuana and she’s in jail.
Titters arose in little pockets around the gallery.
How long have you known Ms. Moon?” Davis asked.
Gotta be three years.
And did there come a time last January twenty-first when Ms. Moon called you at around eleven thirty at night and asked you to come to her house because one of her clients was having a heart attack
No.
Let me get this straight. You’re saying Junie didn’t call to tell you she needed help with Michael Campion
No, ma’am. No, she did not.
Did the police question you about the dismemberment and disposal of Michael Campion’s body
Yep. I told them I didn’t do it.
Were you telling the truth
Malcolm started to laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I told them the truth. I never dismembered anybody. I can’t stand the sight of blood. I eat steak well-done. It was one of the wackiest things I ever heard.
I agree,” Davis said. “Pretty wacky.
Yuki jumped to her feet. “Objection, Your Honor. Ms. Davis’s opinions are totally irrelevant here.
Sustained.
Davis spun on her heels, took a few paces toward the jury, then turned back again. “And yet,” Davis said, her voice ringing out across the oak-paneled courtroom, “according to police testimony, Ms. Moon said that she called you because Mr. Campion was having a heart attack, and that when you arrived at her place, Mr. Campion was dead.
It’s totally bogus. Never happened,” Malcolm said, clearly enjoying himself.
The police further testified that Ms. Moon told them that you dismembered Mr. Campion with a knife and that you and Ms. Moon then transported Mr. Campion’s remains and disposed of them in a Dumpster.
Did that happen
No way. Crock a’ shit. Plus, I’ve got no skill with anything but power tools.
Okay, Mr. Malcolm. So, in your opinion, why would Ms. Moon say such a thing if it isn’t true
Because,” Malcolm said, looking at Junie with his spacey green eyes, “she’s simple, you know, like a special ed kid. She sucks up romance novels, daytime soaps
Move to strike, Your Honor,” Yuki said. “This whole line of questioning calls for speculation.
Your Honor, Mr. Malcolm’s testimony goes to the credibility of the defendant.
I’ll allow it. Go on, Mr. Malcolm.
Yuki sighed loudly, took her seat again between Gaines and Red Dog as Malcolm continued.
Like I was saying, in my opinion, right? When the cops asked her if she’d done the deed with the famous Michael Campion, that was like lighting up a wide-screen, three-D fantasy starring Junie Moon, stupid little whore
Thanks, Mr. Malcolm. Were you charged as an accessory in this crime
The cops tried, but the DA knew they couldn’t indict me on Junie’s flaky confession, especially since she, whatcha-callit, recanted.
Thank you, Mr. Malcolm. Your witness,” Davis said with a smirk to Yuki.
