The Lincoln Lawyer

a nightlife that included a wide sampling of the city’s professional sex providers.
    Minton established all of this in the early stages of his direct examination. You could almost feel the air go still in the courtroom as the jurors plugged into Talbot. The prosecutor then brought him quickly to the night of March 6, and Talbot described hooking up with Reggie Campo at Morgan’s on Ventura Boulevard.
    “Did you know Ms. Campo before you met her in the bar that night?”
    “No, I did not.”
    “How did it come about that you met her there?”
    “I just called her up and said I wanted to get together with her and she suggested we meet at Morgan’s. I knew the place, so I said sure.”
    “And how did you call her up?”
    “With the telephone.”
    Several jurors laughed.
    “I’m sorry. I understand that you used a telephone to call her. I meant how did you know
how
to contact her?”
    “I saw her ad on the website and I liked what I saw and so I went ahead and called her up and we made a date. It’s as simple as that. Her number is on her website ad.”
    “And you met at Morgan’s.”
    “Yes, that’s where she meets her dates, she told me. So I went there and we had a couple drinks and we talked and we liked each other and that was that. I followed her back to her place.”
    “When you went to her apartment did you engage in sexual relations?”
    “Sure did. That’s what I was there for.”
    “And you paid her?”
    “Four hundred bucks. It was worth it.”
    I saw a male juror’s face turning red and I knew I had pegged him perfectly during selection the week before. I had wanted him because he had brought a Bible with him to read while other prospective jurors were being questioned. Minton had missed it, focusing only on the candidates as they were being questioned. But I had seen the Bible and asked few questions of the man when it was his turn. Minton accepted him on the jury and so did I. I figured he would be easy to turn against the victim because of her occupation. His reddening face confirmed it.
    “What time did you leave her apartment?” Minton asked.
    “About five minutes before ten,” Talbot answered.
    “Did she tell you she was expecting another date at the apartment?”
    “No, she didn’t say anything about that. In fact, she was sort of acting like she was done for the night.”
    I stood up and objected.
    “I don’t think Mr. Talbot is qualified here to interpret what Ms. Campo was thinking or planning by her actions.”
    “Sustained,” the judge said before Minton could offer an argument.
    The prosecutor moved right along.
    “Mr. Talbot, could you please describe the physical state Ms. Campo was in when you left her shortly before ten o’clock on the night of March sixth?”
    “Completely satisfied.”
    There was a loud blast of laughter in the courtroom and Talbot beamed proudly. I checked the Bible man and it looked like his jaw was tightly clenched.
    “Mr. Talbot,” Minton said. “I mean her physical state. Was she hurt or bleeding when you left her?”
    “No, she was fine. She was okay. When I left her she was fit as a fiddle and I know because I had just played her.”
    He smiled, proud of his use of language. This time there was no laughter and the judge had finally had enough of his use of the double entendre. She admonished him to keep his more off-color remarks to himself.
    “Sorry, Judge,” he said.
    “Mr. Talbot,” Minton said. “Ms. Campo was not injured in any way when you left her?”
    “Nope. No way.”
    “She wasn’t bleeding?”
    “No.”
    “And you didn’t strike her or physically abuse her in any way?”
    “No again. What we did was consensual and pleasurable. No pain.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Talbot.”
    I looked at my notes for a few moments before standing up. I wanted a break of time to clearly mark the line between direct and cross-examination.
    “Mr. Haller?” the judge prompted. “Do you wish to cross-examine the witness?”
    I stood up and moved to the lectern.
    “Yes, Your Honor, I do.”
    I put my pad down and looked directly at Talbot. He was smiling pleasantly at me but I knew he wouldn’t like me for very long.
    “Mr. Talbot, are you right- or left-handed?”
    “I’m left-handed.”
    “Left-handed,” I echoed. “And isn’t it true that on the night of the sixth, before leaving Regina Campo’s apartment, she asked you to strike her with your fist repeatedly in the face?”
    Minton stood up.
    “Your Honor, there