The Reversal

investigators?”
    “Yes.”
    “Now, is this something you knew back at the time of your sister’s death?”
    “I know it now. I wasn’t told about it back then.”
    “Do you know who the semen was genetically identified as belonging to?”
    “Yes, I was told it came from my stepfather.”
    “Did that surprise you?”
    “No, unfortunately.”
    “Do you have any explanation for how it could have gotten on your dress?”
    Now Royce objected, saying that the question called for speculation. It also called for the witness to diverge from the defense theory, but he didn’t mention that. Breitman sustained the objection and McPherson had to find another way of getting there.
    “Sarah, prior to your sister borrowing your dress on the morning she was abducted, when was the last time you wore it?”
    Royce stood and objected again.
    “Same objection. We’re speculating about events twenty-four years old and when this witness was only thirteen years old.”
    “Your Honor,” McPherson rejoined, “Mr. Royce was fine with this so-called speculation when it fit with the defense’s scheme of things. But now he objects as we get to the heart of the matter. This is not speculation. Ms. Gleason is testifying truthfully about the darkest, saddest days of her life and I don’t think—”
    “Objection overruled,” Breitman said. “The witness may answer.”
    “Thank you, Your Honor.”
    As McPherson repeated the question Bosch studied the jury. He wanted to see if they saw what he saw—a defense attorney attempting to stop the forward progression of truth. Bosch had found Sarah Gleason’s testimony to be fully convincing up to this point. He wanted to hear what she had to say and his hope was that the jury was in the same boat and would look unkindly upon defense efforts to stop her.
    “I wore it two nights before,” Gleason said.
    “That would have been Friday night, the fourteenth. Valentine’s Day.”
    “Yes.”
    “Why did you wear the dress?”
    “My mother was making a nice dinner for Valentine’s Day and my stepfather said we should get dressed up for it.”
    Gleason was looking down again, losing all eye contact with the jurors.
    “Did your stepfather engage in a sexual act with you on that night?”
    “Yes.”
    “Were you wearing the dress at the time?”
    “Yes.”
    “Sarah, do you know if your father ejac—”
    “He wasn’t my father!”
    She yelled it and her voice echoed in the courtroom, reverberating around a hundred people who now knew her darkest secret. Bosch looked at McPherson and saw her checking out the jury’s reaction. It was then Bosch knew that the mistake had been intentional.
    “I am sorry, Sarah. I meant your stepfather. Do you know, did he ejaculate in the course of this moment with you?”
    “Yes, and some of it got on my dress.”
    McPherson studied her notes, flipping over several pages of her yellow pad. She wanted that last answer to hang out there as long as possible.
    “Sarah, who did the laundry at your house?”
    “A lady came. Her name was Abby.”
    “After that Valentine’s Day, did you put your dress in the laundry?”
    “No, I didn’t.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because I was afraid Abby would find it and know what happened. I thought she might tell my mother or call the police.”
    “Why would that have been a bad thing, Sarah?”
    “I… my mother was happy and I didn’t want to ruin things for her.”
    “So what did you do with the dress that night?”
    “I cleaned off the spot and hung it in my closet. I didn’t know my sister was going to wear it.”
    “So two days later when she wanted to put it on, what did you say?”
    “She already had it on when I saw her. I told her that I wanted to wear it but she said it was too late because it wasn’t on my list of clothes I didn’t share with her.”
    “Could you see the stain on the dress?”
    “No, I looked and because it was down at the hem I didn’t see any stain.”
    McPherson paused again. Bosch knew from the prep work that she had covered all the points she wanted to in this line of questioning. She had sufficiently explained the DNA that was the cause of everyone’s being here. She now had to take Gleason further down the road of her dark journey. Because if she didn’t, Royce certainly would.
    “Sarah, did your relationship with your stepfather change after your sister’s death?”
    “Yes.”
    “How so?”
    “He never touched me again.”
    “Do you know why? Did you talk