‘It’s OK, Sam, I’ll instruct the officers to break and enter.They won’t need a warrant because you are being imprisoned in the house and there’s fear for life. They will get to you. Trust me. Is the house alarmed?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know the code?’
‘Yes, it’s… 071421.’ More strain in her voice. ‘Please hurry.’
‘They’re almost there, Sam. Where exactly in the house are you?’
‘I’m in the bathroom, inside our bedroom. It’s up the stairs, second floor – last door, right at the end of the corridor. The bathroom door is locked. I’m not sure if the bedroom door is locked as well, but it probably will be.’
‘It’s OK, Sam, they’ll break it down.’
There was a momentary pause.
‘OK, Sam, officers are at your door right now. Just hold on tight and they’ll be right with you. You don’t have to be scared anymore, you hear?’
‘Thank you… thank you so much.’ Those words came in between sobs.
The call ended.
It was during Sam’s testimony, just as she told the court about the first time that Nelson had left her bruised and shackled inside a locked bathroom, that Nelson lost his composure.
‘You’re a fucking liar, youfucking bitch,’ he jumped up from the defendant’s table, immediately prompting the judge to slam down her gavel and demand order in her court.
‘Counsel,’ Judge Reeves called, pinning Tenor Bryant with a stare that could’ve vaporized diamonds. ‘If you cannot keep your client on a leash, I’ll haveyoucharged with contempt of court and your client removed from court. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Your Honor. I’m sorry.’ Bryant quickly apologized, placing a firm hand on Nelson’s shoulder. ‘It won’t happen again.’
‘It better not.’
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Bryant asked Nelson in a hushed voice, his eyes wide.
‘She’s a fucking liar,’ Nelson replied through gritted teeth, anger practically dripping through the corners of his mouth like snake venom.
‘She might be,’ Bryant agreed. ‘But that little outburst of yours might’ve just cost us the damn case, Nelson. Jesus Christ, do you want to go to prison? From now on, I need you to stay as still as toilet water, you hear? No matter what she, or anyone else says – you don’t move… you don’t say anything. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
Nelson clenched his teeth until pain licked at his jaw.
After Samantha’s testimony, the prosecution called their second and final key witness to the stand, Dr. Louise Steinmann.
Dr. Steinmann was a well-known and very reputable psychotherapist, whose private practice was located in Boston, nine miles south of Woburn. In her testimony, Dr. Steinmann confirmed that Samantha Stewart had been one of her clients for the past twenty-five months. She testified that on average, Samantha attended two sessions a week. After about nine months of therapy, she started noticing bruises on Samantha’s body. Despite Sam telling Dr. Steinmann that she was a very clumsy person and that she bruised easily, Dr. Steinmann testified that she had enough experience with domestic violence victims to know that those bruises came from physical aggression, not from bumping into furniture.
Throughout the rest of the trial, including the whole of Dr. Steinmann’s testimony, Nelson Stewart kept his promise, sitting as still and as quiet as he possibly could… until yesterday mid-afternoon, when the prosecution dropped a surprise nuclear bomb right on the defense’s lap.
Two
The Day Before
After five long and exhaustive days in court, both the prosecution and the defense looked to have fully finished presenting their cases before the jury. Together, they had called a total of twelve witnesses, each of which had been extensively examined, cross-examined, and some even re-directed. What would follow, the next the morning, after the prosecution and the defense had finally rested and Judge Reeves had adjourned proceedings for the day, would be the closing arguments from both sides. The prosecution would go first. Once the closing arguments were done, the jury would be instructed to retire to the jury room so that the deliberation process could begin.
At three-thirty in the afternoon, as the final defense witness stepped down from the witness stand, Tenor Bryant was just about ready to finally rest the defense’s case when Leonard Sutton pulled open the courtroom door and rushed towards the bar just behind the prosecution’s table.
Sutton was the main investigator for the DA’s office in Woburn, and an expert in tracking down missing witnesses. As he entered the courtroom and hurried down the center aisle, a barrage of intrigued and expectant eyes moved to him, none more so than Judge Reeves’.
‘What’s happening in my courtroom?’ she asked, even before Sutton had reached the bar.
The prosecutor, George Oakfield, who was also the District Attorney for the district of Middlesex in Massachusetts, had to fully swivel his chair round so that he could look behind him. He was truly a larger-than-life man… too large to be able to simply twist his body at the waist.