Chapter 27
Helena walked straight from the courthouse to the building next door, the office of the state attorney. It took only a few
minutes, but a gaggle of reporters followed her all the way to the entrance, peppering her with one question after another.
“Mrs. Pollard, what will your son say?”
“Is he too young to be a witness?”
“Are you worried about him?”
All good questions. She answered none of them, hoping that her sunglasses were enough to hide the worry in her eyes.
A lunchtime meeting with the prosecutorial team wasn’t something Helena had planned, but the surprise announcement of the
state’s next witness changed everything. Helena took the elevator to the third floor and met with Julianna Weller in her office.
“You promised me you wouldn’t put Austen on the witness stand unless it was absolutely necessary,” said Helena, her voice
quaking.
Weller was seated behind her desk. After several requests that Helena “calm down,” she had taken a seat in the armchair facing
the prosecutor.
“I did make that promise,” said Weller. “Unfortunately, in my professional judgment, it is absolutely necessary.”
“What changed?”
“Swyteck is going after you. I understand that it’s a criminal lawyer’s job to create reasonable doubt, but he’s making a
stronger case against you than I expected.”
“Let’s not make this about me,” said Helena.
“It already is about you. And the deeper we get into the evidence, the more it will become about you.”
Helena bristled. “What are you talking about?”
“We asked our forensics team to check for fingerprints on Owen’s purported list, as well as the entire notepad. I just received
the analyst’s report, which I will have to share with Swyteck this afternoon.”
“What does it say?”
“Not a single print from Elliott Stafford. The only prints are from you and your husband.”
“That’s not surprising. Owen and I used that notepad every day to make our grocery list.”
“It may not be surprising, but it’s still exculpatory. If Elliott wrote that list, one would expect to find his prints somewhere
on the pad. At least that’s what Swyteck will argue. The lack of fingerprints can be powerful evidence.”
“The lack of Elliott’s prints doesn’t prove I wrote it.”
“True. But the presence of your prints only makes it easier for Swyteck to point the finger at you.”
“Let him do all the pointing he wants. But leave Austen out of this until you need him at the trial.”
“I can’t take the risk that Judge Garrison will make Elliott Stafford the rare exception to the rule that accused murderers
don’t get out on bail. I need Austen now.”
Helena sighed in frustration. “You need him only because when you look at Elliott, all you can see is a trans man who gave
up a baby for adoption when he was a teenage girl.”
“More to the point, I see a trans man who so deeply regrets his decision that it led him to commit murder. That’s called ‘motive.’”
Helena shook her head slowly. “I got to know Elliott. He didn’t regret his decision.
It’s inhuman to regret anything that much.
Pardon me for saying this, but we are all human.
Elliott as much as you. Which means we all have biases.
I’m afraid your bias is showing in the way you have made this case harder than it needs to be—by ascribing a motive to Elliott that makes him a little less human. ”
Helena braced for an angry response, knowing she may have said too much.
“Ms. Pollard, I realize that the ballet world you live in fancies itself a model of inclusivity. But this so-called man murdered
your husband. So, please, get off your high horse. I am not biased.”
“I didn’t mean conscious, mean-spirited bias. There are very intelligent women who feel it’s hard enough fighting for women’s
rights and same-sex rights without taking on the added battle for trans rights. It makes us all easier targets for misogynists
and bigots.”
Weller’s face reddened, then she took a deep breath. “Mrs. Pollard, I have nothing but respect and sympathy for the families
of victims. But you are out of line.”
Helena didn’t know how to respond. “I’m sorry,” she said.
The prosecutor continued in a firm voice. “My only objective is to keep a murderer behind bars. It just so happens that this
accused murderer has already proven to the world that he’s willing to undergo serious medical procedures to change his identity.
If he gets bail, how far do you think he might go to change his identity again and disappear forever?”
It sounded like a scare tactic, but the prosecutor’s expression was deadly serious.
“Do you actually think that if Elliott Stafford gets bail, he’ll change back to a woman?” asked Helena.
“Hormone therapy can be reversed. He still has female parts below the waist. I’m saying there is a reasonable possibility
that the rest of us will show up for trial, and he’ll be a woman with breast implants lying on a beach in Mexico. That’s why
I can’t take any chances at this hearing. I need your son to testify today.”
Helena shrank even smaller in the large armchair. Worry was setting in. “What if I disagree and say you don’t need him?”
“I will add it to my list of troubling behavior you’ve engaged in today.”
“Your list?”
“I’m not just talking about your lawyer jumping up from her seat to protect your Fifth Amendment right. Some of your answers
to Swyteck’s questions left me wondering if we’re still on the same side.”
“Of course we’re on the same side.”
“Are we? If you’re having second thoughts and starting to wonder if we indicted the wrong defendant, now is the time to tell
me.”
“No. I have no doubts about that.”
“Good. That was an easy question. Now here’s the hard question.” The prosecutor leaned forward, looking Helena in the eye.
“Tell me the truth, Ms. Pollard: How upset are you that Elliott murdered your husband?”
“That’s a horrible question to ask a widow.”
“Yes, it is. But it’s a prosecutor’s job to ask tough questions. So, let me ask it this way: Is there something you’re not
telling me? Something I should know?”
Helena was the first to blink. “No,” she said. “Nothing I can think of.”
The prosecutor let the response hang in the air, then offered a tight smile that was all business. “Good. Let’s meet back
at the courthouse in one hour. I’ll expect you to have Austen with you.”
“I’ll be tight on time.”
“Make it work,” said Weller. They rose, and the prosecutor escorted her to the door. “To be clear, if Austen is not with you
when you get back, I will have him subpoenaed. That means a police officer showing up at his school. Do you understand me?”
Helena was momentarily at a loss for words, but there was little else to say.
“Yes, I understand,” she said, and then she quickly made her way to the elevator.