Chapter 67
The din of the courtroom was a loud hush. Those in seats were clearly titillated by what was happening, and the judge had to repeatedly ask for decorum. Beau Lee took his time approaching the witness stand. He was wary of the risk he was taking, but it felt good to play an ace.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Dunham. Can you please tell the members of the jury how you came into contact with our office?”
“Sure, I originally spoke with Mr. Hollis Montrose’s partner, Finn Doyle, and your chief investigator, Brent Capers.”
“When was the first time you spoke with them?”
“They approached as I parked my car and was about to walk into my house one day.”
“What did they say to you?”
“They asked me if my husband ever mentioned anything to me about the shooting of the Black police officer that was all over the news.”
“And what did you tell them?”
DaSilva stood up. “Objection, relevance! And hearsay!”
“Overruled,” said Judge Lambert, her tone strangely sharper toward DaSilva than it had been all trial.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Beau Lee said. “You may answer the question, Mrs. Dunham.”
“I told them that no, he did not. They gave me their business card and said if I ever wanted to tell them something, or if I wanted to help get the truth out for whatever reason, then to call them.”
“When you told them that you had not talked to your husband about the case, was that true?”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“What conversation did you have with your husband about this shooting?”
DaSilva objected loudly. “This is hearsay.”
“Overruled!” said the judge again sternly. “After she finishes her testimony, if you want to recall your client to the stand, then I will allow it. Mrs. Dunham, you may answer the question.”
“When it first started breaking on the news, I asked him if he was involved in the shooting. And he barked at me about why I would think he was involved. I just said, ‘Well, I remember you were working that night, that’s all.’ He cussed at me and said that I should have more faith in him. And then he stormed out of the house.”
“Did you tell your husband that Officer Doyle and Investigator Capes had approached you at the house?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And what did he say?”
“He mainly cursed about you after he asked me what they wanted to know and how I responded.”
“Was that the end of it?”
“Yes it was,” Corrine said. “But he kept talking about you, Mr. Cooper, as if you were the worst person that could ever have come to Chicago.”
“Now, for some reason that doesn’t surprise me,” Beau Lee said. “But Mrs. Dunham, the question I want to ask you, and what everybody wants to know, is what made you change your mind and call back my investigator?”
“On Monday morning, Jack came home in a foul mood. He’d been out the entire night before.”
“Was that normal for him?”
“Sometimes he does that. Always said he was collecting OT.”
“Was that his excuse this time?”
“Yes. I noticed his phone kept vibrating, but he ignored it. Figured it was something he wasn’t telling me.”
Another bout of objections by DaSilva based on speculation, but they were overruled.
“Please continue, Mrs. Dunham,” Beau Lee said.
“Jack stepped outside to take the call, but I managed to overhear it was someone he was calling ‘Babe,’ so I gathered it was another woman. From the snippets of conversation, it sounded like maybe they were talking about an investigator questioning her, the same as happened to me. When he came back in, we argued and it led to a struggle where he hit me with the back of his hand. I fell and hit my face on the corner of the table causing me to bleed badly.”
“The bruises and abrasions on your face are the result of your recent interaction with your husband, Jack Dunham?”
“Objection, Your Honor. I have to object to relevance. This is all hearsay.”
“Mr. DaSilva, please sit down. The court will hear this woman’s testimony.” The judge was clearly sensitive to Corrine’s horrific ordeal. “You may answer the question, Mrs. Dunham.”
“Yes they are,” she said softly. “One of many times he’s hit me.”
“When was the last time he hit you?”
“A few days ago,” she said. “But during this last fight, he told me he would divorce me and that we would have the court decide who was more fit to raise our two sons, me or him and his new woman. I said to myself I am not going to let him get away with this, I don’t care if he leaves me but I was not going to let him take my boys.
They are all I have in this world,” she said, tears now streaming down her face.
“What did you do,” Beau Lee asked softly.
“I found what he was hiding in the garage.”
Beau Lee couldn’t help but be pleased. Typically he liked to pay devoted attention to his witness, but out of the corner of his eyes, he saw DaSilva looking as though he might shit a squirrel.
He allowed himself a glance back at Jack Dunham, who had already apparently shit one.
And it felt good. But there was even more to come.