“Agent Marco, please tell the jury how you knew the victim in this case, Gloria Dayton.”
“I did not know her.”
“We have heard testimony here that she was your informant. Is that not true?”
“It is not true.”
“Did she call you on November sixth to inform you that she had been subpoenaed in a habeas corpus case involving Hector Arrande Moya?”
“No, she did not.”
“Are you familiar with Hector Arrande Moya?”
“Yes, I am.”
“How so?”
“He’s a drug dealer who was arrested by the LAPD about eight years ago. The case was eventually taken over by federal prosecutors and it landed in my lap. I became the case agent on it at that time. Moya was convicted of various charges in federal court and sentenced to life in prison.”
“And in the course of your work on that case, did you ever hear the name Gloria Dayton?”
“No, I did not.”
I paused for a moment and referred to my notes. So far, Marco had been nothing but cordial in his responses and seemed unconcerned by being forced to testify. His denials were what I had expected. My job was to somehow open a crack in the facade and then exploit it.
“Now, you are currently involved in a federal case involving Hector Moya, are you not?”
“I don’t know the details because the lawyers are handling it.”
“Mr. Moya is suing the federal government, alleging that you set him up in that bust eight years ago, is he not?”
“Mr. Moya is in prison and is a desperate man. You can sue anybody for anything, but the fact is, I was not there when he got busted and it wasn’t my case. It came to me afterward and that’s all I know about the whole thing.”
I nodded as though I was pleased with his answer.
“Okay, let’s move on. What about other players in this case? Do you know or have past experience with anyone?”
“Players? I am not sure who you mean?”
“For example, do you know the prosecutor, Mr. Forsythe?”
I turned and gestured toward Forsythe.
“No, I don’t know him,” Marco said.
“How about the lead investigator on the case, Detective Whitten?” I asked. “Any past association with him?”
Forsythe objected, asking where I was going with this meandering examination. I asked for the judge’s indulgence and promised to get to the point quickly. The judge let me carry on.
“No, I don’t know Detective Whitten either,” Marco answered.
“Then how about the DA’s investigator, Mr. Lankford?”
I pointed at Lankford, who was sitting face forward, staring at the back of Forsythe’s head.
“He and I go back about ten years,” Marco said. “I knew him then.”
“How so?” I asked.
“There was a case when he was with the Glendale PD, and we crossed paths.”
“What was the case?”
“There was a double murder, and the victims were drug dealers. Lankford caught the case and he consulted with me a couple, maybe three, times about it.”
“Why you?”
“DEA, I guess. The dead guys were drug dealers. There were drugs found in the house where they got killed.”
“And Detective Lankford wanted to know what? If you knew anything about the victims or who might have killed them?”
“Yes. Things like that.”
“Were you able to help?”
“Not real—”
Forsythe objected again, citing relevancy.
“We are trying a case involving a murder seven months ago,” he said. “Mr. Haller has shown no relevancy to this case ten years ago.”
“Relevancy is coming, Your Honor,” I responded. “And Mr. Forsythe knows it.”
“Soon, Mr. Haller,” the judge responded.
I nodded my thanks.
“Agent Marco, did you just say you were unable to help Detective Lankford?”
“I don’t think I was. As far as I know, they never made a case against anyone.”
“Were you familiar with the victims in that case?”
“I knew who they were. They were on our radar but they weren’t the subjects of an active investigation.”
“What about in this case, Agent Marco? The Gloria Dayton case. Has Investigator Lankford consulted you on it?”
“No, he has not.”
“Have you consulted him on it?”
“No, I have not.”
“So, no communication between you two?”
“None.”
There was the crack. I knew I was in.
“Now this double murder you spoke of from ten years ago, was that the one on Salem Street in Glendale?”
“Uh… yes, I believe so.”
“Are you familiar with the name Stratton Sterghos?”
Forsythe objected and asked for a sidebar. The judge signaled us up to the bench, and then, as expected, the prosecutor complained that I was trying an end-run move to bring Sterghos in as a witness when the judge had already struck him from the witness list.
I shook my head.
“Judge, that is not what I am trying to do now, and I will go on record right here and say I will not be calling Dr. Sterghos as a witness. He’s not even in Los Angeles. All I want to do here is establish whether the witness knew that I had put Sterghos on the witness list. He said he’s had no contact with anyone associated with this case, but I will be introducing evidence to the contrary.”
Forsythe shook his head like he was exhausted by my antics.
“There is no evidence, Judge. This is just a sideshow. He’s trying to hijack the case while he chases after rainbows.”
I smiled and shook my head. I looked back at the courtroom and happened to see Lankford walking down the center aisle to the rear door.
“Where’s your investigator going?” I asked Forsythe. “I’m going to put him on the stand in a few minutes.”
The question to Forsythe alerted the judge. She raised her head to look over us.
“Mr. Lankford,” she called.
Lankford stopped five feet from the door and looked back.
“Where are you going?” the judge asked. “You are going to be called soon as a witness.”
Lankford held his hands out like he was not sure of an answer.
“Uh, the men’s room.”
“Be back soon, please. You will be needed shortly and we have already lost enough time this morning. I want no more delays.”
Lankford nodded and continued out of the courtroom.
“Excuse me a moment, gentlemen,” the judge said.
She rolled her chair to her left and leaned over the edge of the bench to converse with her clerk. I heard her ask the clerk to tell one of the courtroom deputies to make sure Lankford came back promptly to the courtroom.
That made me feel better about things.
The judge rolled back and returned her focus to the subject of the sidebar. She warned me that her patience had grown exceedingly thin and that I needed to draw the string on the net she had allowed me to cast.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
I went back to the lectern.
“Agent Marco, did anyone tell you that the name Stratton Sterghos had appeared on the defense’s amended witness list this week?”
Marco showed the first signs of discomfort, shaking his head wearily.
“No. I don’t know that name. I never heard of the man before you just brought him up.”
I nodded and made a notation on my legal pad. It read Got you, motherfucker.
“Can you tell the jury where you were on the night of November eleventh of last year?”
Forsythe stood.
“Your Honor!”
“Be seated, Mr. Forsythe.”
Marco shook his head casually.
“I can’t remember exactly what I was doing that far back.”
“It was a Sunday.”