Chapter 24
Helena appeared nervous to Jack. She sat a little too erect in the witness chair, her hands resting on her lap, her fingers
not as much interlaced as they were clenched into a tight ball. She looked first at the prosecutor and then at the judge,
not even a glance in the direction of the defense table, though Jack wasn’t sure if she was avoiding eye contact with him,
his client, or both.
“Good morning, Ms. Pollard,” the prosecutor began.
Helena managed a clipped “Morning,” and even the ensuing introductory questions seemed to make her tense. As the examination
progressed, Jack noticed that she wasn’t really looking at the prosecutor when she answered. Helena was looking past her,
and Jack followed her gaze all the way into the gallery, until it landed on Helena’s lawyer, Patricia Dubrow, in the third
row of public seating. Having her lawyer in the courtroom seemed to calm her, eventually. By the time she was asked to describe
her marriage to Owen, Helena was able to keep her composure—which Jack took as a sign that both the prosecutor and her own
lawyer had prepared her well for the testimony that mattered.
“Ms. Pollard, please tell the court when you first met the defendant, Elliott Stafford.”
“Well, I—” she started to say, then stopped, as if she needed to think about what the prosecutor was really asking. “I believe
the answer to your question is that Owen and I first met the defendant when he was a teenage girl named Elle Carpenter.”
“Elle Carpenter was the biological mother of your adopted son, Austen, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“Was your adoption a private adoption, or did you use an adoption agency?”
“It was private. Owen and I dealt directly with Elle’s mother.”
“Did you ever see Elle Carpenter again after the adoption?”
“No.”
“That’s because this adoption was a closed adoption, correct?”
“Yes, it was closed.”
“Ms. Pollard, what is your understanding of the difference between an open and closed adoption?”
“The court knows the difference,” Judge Garrison said, and then he looked at Jack. “Mr. Swyteck, in the interest of moving
things along, will the defense stipulate that in closed adoption the biological mother has no right to visit, communicate
with, or contact the child, and that such rights are negotiable in an open adoption?”
“So stipulated.”
“Thank you,” said the judge. “Ms. Weller, fair warning to the prosecution: I’m not going to keep the defendant locked up in
pretrial detention based on testimony connecting Elle Carpenter to an adoption six years ago. Please get to the evidence connecting
this defendant, Elliott Stafford, to the untimely death of Owen Pollard.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” said the prosecutor. “Ms. Pollard, you said earlier that you never saw Elle Carpenter after the adoption.
When did you first meet Elliott Stafford?”
“It was several months ago. I teach ballet at the conservatory. Austen is also a student there. Elliott started volunteering
his services as a bookkeeper. One day he introduced himself to me. He told me he worked for Owen’s company, though he spent
most of his time in the finance department, which was run by Mr. Vandermeer.”
“Did Mr. Stafford tell you that he used to be Elle Carpenter?”
“Not at first.”
“Did he tell you he was transgender?”
“No. But—”
The prosecutor waited, but Helena left it there. “But what?” she asked, prodding.
“Honestly, he looked awfully familiar to me,” said Helena. “Mind you, this was several months earlier in his transition therapy,
so he looked more like Elle than he does now. So, I would say I started to suspect.”
“Suspect what?”
“That there was something Elliott wasn’t telling me. Especially when I saw the interest he took in Austen. He would sometimes
sit with the other parents to observe Austen’s group classes. He would tell me how talented Austen was. He even brought Austen
a birthday present.”
“Did that strike you as creepy?”
The prosecutor made a face, cringing, and Jack noted Helena’s put-off reaction. It was as if Weller had gone off script, and
Helena didn’t like it.
“It wasn’t creepy,” said Helena. “I would say it was more caring. Boys often have a hard time in ballet studios. Elliott seemed to understand
that.”
It was a surprisingly friendly answer from the prosecution’s star witness. Jack made another note, and the prosecutor shifted
the focus of her questions.
“Ms. Pollard, you said earlier that you started to suspect something,” said Weller. “What exactly did you suspect?”
“That Elliott used to be Elle.”
“Did you say anything to Elliott about this?”
“No. I waited.”
“Waited for what?”
Helena sighed, and it appeared that she was about to glance in Elliott’s direction—and then she caught herself in such an
obvious way that Jack wondered if the prosecutor had warned her beforehand not to look at Elliott.
“Ms. Pollard,” said the prosecutor, as if to refocus the witness. “What were you waiting for?”
Helena looked at the judge, then answered. “I’ve been a ballerina since I was three years old. I’ve danced alongside men who
didn’t even realize they were gay until long after everyone else in the company knew it. Trusting someone enough to tell them
you’re trans isn’t exactly the same, but in my experience, people operate on their own timeline when it comes to something
as private and personal as gender identity and sexuality. I respect that. I knew Elliott would tell me when he felt ready
to tell me. And he did, eventually.”
The more Helena went off script, the more Jack liked her. Her testimony seemed to be having the opposite effect on the prosecutor.
“How very nice, thank you,” said Weller. “Ms. Pollard, let’s focus a bit more on my questions, shall we? I want to hear more
about the interest the defendant took in your son, Austen. You described Mr. Stafford as ‘caring,’ correct?”
“Yes.”
“My question is this: Did there come a time when the defendant made it clear that what he really cared about was undoing the
adoption?”
Jack sprang to his feet. “Objection. Judge, she’s putting words in the mouth of her own witness.”
“I’ll rephrase,” said the prosecutor. “Ms. Pollard, did the defendant ever ask you to consider changing the adoption from
closed to open?”
Helena paused to consider her answer. The fists in her lap appeared to tighten, and finally, she looked in Elliott’s direction.
He did not reciprocate.
“Yes,” said Helena. “He did ask me.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him I could possibly be agreeable to the idea,” she said, and then she looked at the judge again. “The truth is, I
liked Elliott. And so did Austen.”
Weller looked very annoyed. “Judge, I move to strike that last sentence as nonresponsive.”
Jack was loving it. “Judge, it sounds like Ms. Weller is asking the court to strike the answer of the prosecution’s own witness
to the prosecutor’s own question.”
“The motion to strike is denied,” said the judge, taking Jack’s point.
Weller was unfazed. “Ms. Pollard, you said you ‘could possibly be’ agreeable. Did you and Mr. Stafford ever actually agree
to an open adoption for Austen?”
“No.”
“What stopped you from agreeing to an open adoption, Ms. Pollard?”
Helena cast a downward gaze and answered in a soft voice. “In a word, Owen.”
The prosecutor paused to let that “one word” linger. Jack cast a subtle but firm glance in his client’s direction, sending
a clear message: This was precisely the kind of information he should have heard first from his client, not from a witness
in open court.
The prosecutor forged ahead. “Ms. Pollard, is it your testimony that your husband, Owen, rejected Mr. Stafford’s request to
change the adoption from closed to open?”
“Owen forbade it.”
“Did you discuss your husband’s views with the defendant, Elliott Stafford?” she asked, pointing at Jack’s client.
“Yes.”
“Tell us more about that, please.”
“I told Elliott that Owen had no clue he used to be Elle Carpenter. Partly because Elliott did most of his work for Mr. Vandermeer,
but mostly, Owen never noticed much of anything. He lived very much inside his own head. Someone like Elliott would be completely
invisible to him.”
It was another answer that Jack found interesting—and that annoyed the prosecutor.
“Ms. Pollard, please, let’s focus on the question,” said Weller. “What did you tell the defendant about your husband’s response to a request for an open adoption? I want to know precisely what information was inside the head of this defendant,” she said, pointing again, “Elliott Stafford.”
The last statement was not gratuitous. Weller was eliciting evidence of the defendant’s “depraved mind,” which erased any
legal basis for Jack to object.
“I told Elliott it would be very difficult to persuade Owen to make the change to an open adoption.”
“Did you tell him why it would be difficult?”
“Well, obviously, we would have to tell Owen that Elliott used to be Elle.”
“Ms. Pollard, please. Once again, listen to my question. Did you tell Mr. Stafford why it would be difficult?”
“I—I told Elliott that Owen would never let his son anywhere near a person who was transgender.”
There it was: the “strong presumption of guilt” that would probably keep Elliott locked up through trial. Jack wrote the word
“MOTIVE” in all caps on his notepad. The worst part was that Helena was so completely believable that it didn’t matter that
Elliott refused to speak in his own defense.
“What was Mr. Stafford’s reaction?” asked the prosecutor.
“Elliott asked if I thought it would make any difference if he approached Owen himself.”
“How did you respond?”
Helena shook her head slowly. To Jack, she seemed suddenly distant, as if her thoughts were taking her to another place.
“I told Elliott that would be a disaster,” said Helena. “This was just a couple of days after Owen and I had a huge argument
over Austen’s dancing.”
“Tell us about that,” said the prosecutor.