Chapter 39
AFTER THE MASON brothers conferred in whispers for a few moments, Mitchell went to the lectern to take the cross-examination.
There wasn’t much he could do, since challenges to Porreca’s expertise and opinion had failed in pretrial motions, and his objections to my direct examination had also faltered.
So he went with a long-standing tradition: If you can’t kill the message, kill the messenger.
I had warned my witness of this strategy and she was ready for it.
Mitchell opened strong.
“Now, Ms. Porreca, isn’t it true that these days, you essentially make your living as a paid professional witness?” he asked.
But the doctor was stronger.
“No, not true at all,” Porreca said. “Far from it. I have a thriving practice in Florida. And I prefer being called ‘Doctor.’ I have a medical degree. I have earned that title.”
“Of course, Doctor,” Mason said. “Apologies. Can you tell the jury what you are being paid to be a witness for the plaintiff today?”
“Well, technically, I am not being paid to be a witness. But I was paid five thousand dollars to review the materials in this case, primarily the transcripts of the conversations between Aaron Colton and his AI companion Wren. When I agreed to testify about my findings and conclusions, my travel expenses were covered by Mr. Haller.”
“And how long did it take you to make that review?”
“About a day to review and another half a day to compose a report on my opinion.”
“Well, five thousand dollars must be more profitable than a day and a half of seeing patients in Tampa, Florida.”
He said Tampa in a tone that implied it was an outpost in a backwater Florida swamp.
“Not really,” Porreca replied. “Not when you consider the time lost coming out here to be ready when called to testify. And to answer voluminous questions from you, Mr. Mason, in a written deposition. I was flown out yesterday and here I am today, so I’ve lost several days of work, not to mention having to postpone appointments with patients involved in ongoing therapy. Paying patients, I might add.”
“Have you been promised, contractually or otherwise, any further payment if the plaintiff in this case is successful in this trial?” Mitchell asked.
“No, not at all. And I would not accept any further payment. That is far from the reason I agree to look at cases like this.”
Mason went silent, realizing he could not ask the obvious follow-up question but knowing I would ask it if he didn’t. He decided to quit while he was behind.
“No further questions,” he said.
“Mr. Haller, do you want to redirect?” Ruhlin said, knowing the answer before she asked.
“Thank you, Judge, yes,” I said as I moved back to the lectern. “Dr. Porreca, do you mind telling us, what is the reason that you agreed to look at this case?”
“I don’t mind,” Porreca said. “It’s because my professional life is about helping children, and they are very vulnerable to addiction to all forms of online programs and platforms, including those involving artificial intelligence.
The truth is, I lose money doing this, but it’s not about the money.
It’s about the kids. With my patients, I can help only one person at a time.
A case like this can help children and parents on a much larger scale. ”
I looked down at the lectern and pretended to read my notes. I had not taken my legal pad with me because I did not need it. But I wanted time for that answer to sink deeply into the minds of the twelve jurors.
“Now, Doctor,” I finally said, “during cross-examination, you said ‘cases like this.’ Are there other cases that—”
“Objection!” Mitchell Mason exclaimed.
“Ended in violence?” I finished.
“There are many,” Porreca said.
“Stop right there!” Ruhlin barked. “The witness is instructed to stop speaking when there is an objection.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Porreca said, properly cowed by the judge’s tone. “I’m sorry.”
Mason’s objection was based on a pretrial ruling by the judge that other AI cases of similar nature would not be allowed in evidence because they would be prejudicial.
Now the judge called the attorneys to the bench.
This time she even turned on a white-noise device that would cloak what she knew would be her angry whispers.
“Mr. Haller, you were warned not to introduce other cases,” Ruhlin said. “And it is clear to me that you purposely ignored my order. The question and answer seemed rehearsed and part of a plan to circumvent my ruling. I am finding you in contempt of this court.”
“Your Honor, may I speak?” I asked.
“I can’t wait to hear what you have to say.”
“When the witness said there were other cases like this, neither the defense counsel nor the court objected. I took that to mean a follow-up question would be allowed.”
“It felt very choreographed to me. You clearly were subverting the court’s ruling regarding other cases.”
“I assure you, Judge, I was not. It was an automatic response to the witness’s testimony.”
“We will discuss this and a penalty after the jury is dismissed today. Now step back.”
I returned to the lectern, and the Masons took their seats. The judge instructed the jury to ignore the last statement by the witness and then told me to proceed.
“Cautiously, Mr. Haller,” she said.
I had gotten what I could from Dr. Debbie. I decided to quit while I was ahead and not draw attention away from the many good points she had just made—including the mention of other cases. That answer had been stricken from the record but not from the memories of the jurors.
“Thank you, Dr. Porreca,” I said. “No further questions.”
When Mitchell Mason wisely said he had nothing further for the witness in re-cross, the judge excused her and told me to call my next witness.
I asked if we could take the afternoon break before I brought in my next witness, and she agreed.
The courtroom emptied while I went to the railing to confer with Lorna and Cisco.
“What happened up there?” Lorna asked.
“She held me in contempt,” I said. “There’s a hearing after the jury goes home.”
“Oh, great,” Lorna said. “Is she going to put you in lockup?”
“I seriously doubt that,” I said. “It’s civil court. She’ll find some other way of putting the boot in me.”
“It better not be a fine,” Lorna said. “We don’t have any money coming in.”
“Let me worry about that,” I said. “Is Spindler all set?”
“Good to go,” Cisco said. “He’s in the attorney room.”
“Good,” I said. “You can bring him in.”
Cisco headed off and I looked at Lorna.
“Lorna, will you see to it that Dr. Debbie gets back to her hotel and then on the next plane to Tampa?”
“Absolutely.”
“And make it first class.”
“Mickey, we don’t have—”
“She deserves it. The jurors loved her.”
Over Lorna’s shoulder, I watched Cisco go through the courtroom door. I then noticed that Cassandra Snow was sitting in her wheelchair behind the last row of the gallery.
“You’re staying here?” Lorna asked. “No bathroom break?”
“No, I’m staying,” I said.
“Well, knock ’em dead.”
“That’s the plan.”
Lorna headed out of the courtroom and I went through the gate and down the aisle behind her to talk to Cassie Snow.
“Let me guess,” I said. “Field trip?”
“No, I just thought I would come by and watch,” she said. “I’ve been reading articles about the case.”
“Hopefully they’ve been kind to me and my case. I haven’t had a chance to read them.”
“I’ve followed you in the media for a long time and I realized I had never seen you live in a courtroom.”
“Well… I’m sure it’s underwhelming.”
“Not at all.”
I nodded my thanks. I wasn’t sure what else to say and I needed to get back to the table to go over my notes before my direct examination of Professor Spindler.
“Did you just get in big trouble with the judge?” she asked.
“Maybe,” I said. “We’ll see. How’s your father doing?”
“We talked yesterday. I told him you were on the case.”
“Yes, well, as you can probably see, a trial becomes all-consuming. But we are preparing a habeas package for the district attorney’s office to review. It’s already in motion.”
“I thought habeas is federal.”
“Habeas is federal and state, but it can take months, even years, to get on the docket in either court. We don’t have that kind of time.
My plan is to go to the DA’s office first and try to convince them of this miscarriage of justice.
If they come on board, we just go to a judge in superior court and ask that the conviction be discharged or for a resentencing that leads to a release.
I think it will be the fastest way to go. ”
“I can tell you now that if it involves my father admitting culpability, he won’t do it. He will never admit to something he didn’t do.”
“I understand. I’ve known that from the start, and that’s not in the plan. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Do I have to worry about the DA? Isn’t she your ex-wife?”
“She is, yes. But we’re on good terms. We raised a daughter together and we’re on the same page.
And I don’t know if you saw this, but part of her platform during the special election was a commitment to review cases like this to restore faith in the system.
So this is right up that alley politically, and I think she will be receptive.
The bottom line is that your father doesn’t have a lot of time, and this is the fastest way to get him out. You have to trust me, Cassie.”
“I do. Thank you.”
“Of course. And now I really need to get back before court starts again. I have to do some last-minute prepping for my next witness. If you’re planning to stay and want to come up to the front to watch, I’m sure the marshals will accommodate you.”
“No, I’m fine back here. Really. And I can’t stay too much longer anyway.”
“Okay. Thanks for coming to check me out. It’s good to see you, and we’ll be in touch very soon. As soon as this is over.”
“Thank you.”
I got back to the plaintiff’s table and checked on Brenda.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
“I’m good,” she said. “It looked like the judge was mad at you.”
“Well, a little bit, yeah. It’s nothing I can’t deal with, nothing for you to worry about.”
“So what happens now?”
“We have Dr. Spindler from Caltech next. He’ll put things in perspective for the jury.”
“And he’s our last witness? I think you called him the closer before.”
“I did, but he’s not going to be last. There will be at least one more witness. One of the coders on the project. I’ve changed things up and we’re going to go with him.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
“Well, that’s the thing about trials. You’re never really sure about anything.”
It was true. As we neared the end of the presentation of our case, I could not shake the feeling that I had missed something, that I was not prepared.
With each witness in a trial, the stress grows.
Each is a domino in a line and they have to fall precisely according to design for the overall plan to work.
My anxiety now was rooted in my decision to change the design mid-course.
Spindler was originally supposed to be my last witness, my closer, but now I was gambling everything on another witness—the coder—and the secrets about him that Jack McEvoy would be able to dig up before court reconvened in the morning.
It was a risky business because I was essentially putting all my chips down on one bet, on a witness I had never met or even asked a single question of. The only thing I knew about him was that I had to destroy him to win the case.