"You're aware that people at Rikers often claim that another
inmate has confessed to them, come testify at trial like you're doing here, and
get a better deal for themselves as a result, right?"
"Objection," O'Bannon said.
"I'll allow it."
"I know it helps you to help them," Lester said. "Everybody know
that."
"And that's why you pretended to befriend Lorenzo Tate, isn't it?"
"I didn't pretend nothing."
"You were planning all along to snitch him out, weren't you?
Regardless of whether or not he ever told you anything incriminating."
"That's all coming up out of your own head."
"Mr. Bailey, you are a three-time loser, a career criminal facing
time on yet another crime. Why should anyone in this courtroom believe anything
you say?"
"I ain't going to deny I been in trouble," Lester said. "But that
ain't got nothing to do with this. I'm just here to tell the truth."
"You and the truth have never even
met,
Mr. Bailey," Myra said, and as she said it I relaxed: while I was sure her anger was genuine, I was also sure she had it under her control, that she'd been using it to set up this moment.
"Allow me to introduce you. The truth is, everything you've said here has been a
lie, a self-serving lie, and worse than that, a betrayal of a man who's never
done you any harm."
"Objection," O'Bannon said.
"Withdrawn," Myra said. "I think I've heard enough from Mr.
Bailey."
31
T
HE PEOPLE
call Yolanda Miller," ADA O'Bannon said, bringing on the prosecution's star witness.
Even dressed for court Yolanda looked a good deal worse for wear than the first time I'd seen her in the spring. She'd gone from thin to skinny, sharp-angled, and jumpy. As Yolanda took the stand I noticed Devin Wallace in the spectator seats of the courtroom, but Yolanda did not even glance at him as she stepped through the well of the court. I leaned over to Myra and pointed Devin out. He was not on the prosecution's witness list, presumably because he was still not cooperating with them.
"Before we get to the events of April 6, Ms. Miller," O'Bannon began,
"we have to talk about some more recent things. Have you ever been arrested?"
"That's right."
"How many times have you been arrested?"
"Three," Yolanda said flatly, no trace of embarrassment at having to talk about this in public. Her third and most recent arrest had been only a couple of weeks earlier; the DA's office had sent us the police report shortly before jury selection.
"All in the past year?"
"Yes."
"What have you been arrested for?"
"Two times for copping, one time for fighting."
"And what were you fighting about?"
"We was fighting over drugs."
"Ms. Miller, have you become addicted to drugs?"
"I got a need now, yeah," Yolanda said quietly, looking down at her hands, which were clasped together in her lap.
"And was that the case on April 6?"
"No. This all happen after that."
"You started doing drugs after April?"
"I started with the rock after that."
"And was that a coincidence?"
"How you mean?"
"What I mean is, did you start doing drugs because of what
happened on April 6?"
"Objection," Myra said. "Speculation."
"Sustained," Judge Ferano said.
"Have you been offered anything in exchange for your testimony today in relation to the charges that are pending against you?" O'Bannon asked.
"I was offered what?"
"I'm sorry for being unclear. Put more simply, have you made a
deal with my office concerning your testifying here today? Are you getting
anything as far as your own criminal charges go?"
"Nothin' like that, no," Yolanda said.
O'Bannon then shifted gears, asking Yolanda about the night of the shooting. He led her through her going out to the deli, spotting Devin across the courtyard, and then seeing Wallace and Lipton getting shot as she started to approach them.
"What happened after you saw and heard Mr. Wallace and Mr. Lipton
get shot?"
"I was looking around, you know, trying to find out what was going on," Yolanda said.
"That's when I see Strawberry running toward me."
"When you say you saw Strawberry, do you know that person's actual
name?"
"Lorenzo Tate."
"What, if anything, was the defendant carrying when he ran past
you?"
"He got a gun."
"How did you recognize Lorenzo Tate?" O'Bannon asked.
"I seen him around the Gardens," Yolanda said. "I seen him with
Devin too."
Myra tensed beside me, pushing her chair back from the table, preparing to jump to her feet at the first indication that Yolanda was going to make a connection between Lorenzo and Devin's drug dealing. The judge caught her movement, then looked sternly over at O'Bannon. Because of the judge's
Molineux
ruling, any mention by Yolanda of Lorenzo being a drug dealer and we would potentially have a mistrial on our hands.
"You'd seen the defendant with Mr. Wallace?" O'Bannon said neutrally, obviously realizing the line he was approaching.
"Sure, I'd seen them," Yolanda said.
"How many times had you seen the defendant before the night of the
shooting?"
Yolanda shrugged. "Maybe five."
"Did there come a time when the police had you look at a photo
array in this case?"
"The lady detective brought me some pictures to look at."
"What happened when the detective showed you these pictures?"
"I told them I didn't want to pick Strawberry out by no pictures," Yolanda said.
"I told them I know him better in person."
"Did they then arrange an in-person lineup for you?"
"Once they got him, yeah," Yolanda said. "Then they set that up."
"What happened at that lineup?"
"I pointed out Strawberry."
"How long did it take you to point him out?"
"Didn't take me no time," Yolanda said.
"When you say it didn't take you any time, was it a few seconds, a
few minutes . . . ?"
"Five seconds, maybe. Wasn't no longer than that."
"There's no doubt that Lorenzo Tate is who you saw run past you with a gun in his hand after Mr. Lipton and Mr. Wallace were shot?" O'Bannon continued.
"I seen him," Yolanda replied.
"Thank you, Ms. Miller," O'Bannon said. "Nothing further."
"Good afternoon, Ms. Miller," Myra said to begin her cross, Yolanda just nodding in reply, her arms folded across her chest, her whole demeanor going hostile.
"I just need to clarify some of your earlier answers," Myra said.
"You said you have three pending criminal charges against you, is that correct?"
"I already say that."
"And those are all for drug-related crimes, right?"
"One was 'cause I was beatin' on this girl," Yolanda said. "But
that was on account of drugs too."
"And all of these charges are from after the night of April 6, is
that right?"
"That's right."
"And did I understand you correctly earlier; was it your testimony
that you didn't use drugs before that night?"
"This is all after Devin got capped."
"It's your testimony that you didn't use illegal drugs prior to April 6?" Myra tried again.
"Ain't that what I said?"
"You tell me," Myra replied evenly. Unlike with a witness like Lester Bailey, where she'd been extremely aggressive from the start, with Yolanda on the stand Myra was keeping her voice even, her tone polite, even when she asked a tough question. It was Yolanda's own hostility that we wanted to let take center stage.
"Like I already say, this all start after that."
"So would it surprise you to learn that Latrice Wallace has
already testified that she saw you under the influence of illegal drugs prior to
April 6?"
"I ain't got no idea why she'd say that," Yolanda said.
"Is it your testimony that Ms. Wallace was lying when she said
that?"
"You got to ask her why she say what she say."
"I'm asking you," Myra replied. "If she said she saw you high on
drugs before that, would she be lying?"
"I ain't going to call her a liar," Yolanda said. "But what she
say ain't true neither."
"Fair enough," Myra said, smiling slightly. She'd gotten us what we wanted, established an area of disagreement between Latrice's and Yolanda's testimonies.
"So you're awaiting trial on all three of these charges, right?"
"That's right."
"And the same office that has called you as a witness today will
be prosecuting you on those charges, correct?"
"I guess so."
"You guess so?" Myra shot back. "Isn't that true?"
"They got different lawyers handling my cases."
"Do you just mean that there are different assistant district
attorneys prosecuting your cases than the prosecutors who are having you testify
in this case?"
"True that."
"But they all work in the same office, right?"
"How I supposed to know where they all work at?"
"Would it surprise you to learn that they all worked in the same office?" Myra asked, making a show of patience.
"Wouldn't surprise me, no."
"You've got a lawyer in those cases, right?"
"I don't got me a real lawyer," Yolanda said. "Just somebody like
you that ain't getting paid."
"You hope that testifying today will help you with your own legal
troubles, don't you?"
"I'm just saying what I know."
"That isn't what I asked you, Ms. Miller. Do you need me to repeat
my question?"
"If you asking me do I want to go to jail, the answer is I don't."
"And you're hoping that testifying here today might help you stay
out of jail, right?"
"They ask me to come and say what I saw, so that's what I be
doing."
"Thank you," Myra said, trying to indicate to the jury just how hard it was to get Yolanda to admit the obvious.
"Tell me, Ms. Miller, about how long had you been outside when the shooting
started?"
"Just a few seconds is all."
"And you were looking over at Devin Wallace once you got out
there, right?"
"I seen him, yeah."
"You didn't see the shooter until the shooting started, right?"
"I wasn't looking that way."
"So the first time you saw the shooter was when he ran past you
with his gun out after he'd just shot your boyfriend in the back, right?"
"I seen him when he run by, yeah."
"Now, when the police questioned you on the night of the shooting
you described the clothes the shooter was wearing as black pants, black shirt,
and a white doo-rag, with a birthmark above his left eye; do you recall that?"
"If that what it say."
"It was pretty late when this happened, isn't that right?"
"It was nighttime."
"It was dark, right?"
"Sure, it was dark."
"And in the dark, late at night, after just seeing your boyfriend
get shot, a man dressed all in black, with a doo-rag on his head as well, ran
past you while holding a gun. Those were the circumstances under which you saw
the shooter in this case, right?"
"He go running right past me."
"I understand that. You're not disagreeing with what I just said,
are you?"
"I seen him."
"And you're sure that's what the shooter was wearing? Black pants,
black shirt, and a white doo-rag?"
"He run right past me," Yolanda said. "I seen him right there."
"And that's how he was dressed?"
"That's right."
"Now, Ms. Miller, you're aware that Latrice Wallace had a
conversation with Mr. Tate a few hours before the shooting, right?"
"Uh-huh."
"Would it surprise you to learn that Ms. Wallace described the
clothes Mr. Tate wore that night as a bright-colored T-shirt, blue jeans, and a
baseball cap?"
"Don't know why I'm supposed to be surprised."
"It doesn't surprise you that Ms. Wallace described Mr. Tate as
wearing a completely different outfit that night?"
"I don't know nothin' about that."
"But you're sure that the man you saw was not wearing a bright
shirt, blue jeans, and a baseball cap, right?"
"I already say what he be wearing."
"And you can't explain this discrepancy?"
"I can't do what?"
"Never mind," Myra said, not needing an answer to make her point. She took a couple of steps so that she was standing directly between Yolanda and Lorenzo.
"When this man ran past you, did you see his left side or his right side?"
"He ran past like this," Yolanda said, sliding her right arm leftward.
"So his left side would've been facing you, right?"
"His left, yeah."
"Did you see the birthmark on Mr. Tate's face when he ran past you?" Myra said.
"I can't remember that now."
"Because in your description, you said that Mr. Tate's birthmark
was on his left side, the side you saw. You told the police that to indicate
that you'd seen his birthmark, right? Because that was part of how you
recognized him that night?"
"I saw him," Yolanda said.
Myra stepped away, gesturing back to Lorenzo. "Please look at my
client, Ms. Miller, and tell me, on which side of his face does his birthmark
appear?"
"It be on the other side."
"By the other side you mean the right side?"
"That's right."
"Thank you," Myra said. This was little more than razzle-dazzle, not substantive evidence, but razzle-dazzle was an important weapon in the defense lawyer's arsenal. Yolanda's lip was now curled as she glared at Myra; she looked defensive and angry, and was clearly getting flustered.
"Now, Ms. Miller, you were in an intimate relationship with Mr.
Wallace, is that correct?"
"We were together," Yolanda agreed. "But it wasn't nothing too
serious."
"How long had you been involved with Mr. Wallace?"
"Couple of months before the shootin'."
"You are the mother of a child, correct, Ms. Miller?"
"I got a little boy," Yolanda said.
"How old is your son?"
"Jamal's about to be two."
"Who is Jamal's father, Ms. Miller?"
"His name's Malik."
"Malik Taylor?"
"That's right."
"Were you and Malik Taylor ever married?"
"No," Yolanda said, giving Myra a little glare, some challenge in it too.
"Did you continue to see each other after you had your baby?"
"Even though Malik and me weren't together no more, he said it was important that he still see his boy," Yolanda said.
"Malik would take Jamal some weekends. He buys him things—clothes, toys."
"Has Malik ever been in any trouble with the law?"
"Malik? The man work one job all week and then another one on the
weekend. He ain't never been in trouble a day in his life."
"How about Devin Wallace? What does he do for a living?"
"You already know," Yolanda said, looking right at Myra, lifting her chin a little.
"Please answer the question."
"Devin be in the life."
"I think we all like to think of ourselves as in life," Myra countered.
"Can you perhaps be a little more clear?"
Yolanda was staring at Myra skeptically, no doubt wondering if she was being toyed with.
"The life mean the trade," she said. "Devin's a dealer."
"So he was a criminal, wasn't he?"
"I don't begin to know who's a criminal and who ain't," Yolanda said.
"That's for you people to figure out."
"But you do know dealing drugs is illegal, don't you?"