Page 23 of The 1 Lawyer

Stokes was a career cop who had worked his way from traffic patrol to the detective division. I didn’t expect to gain any ground with him. My only hope was that his stint in the witness chair would be short, because I knew what he was going to contribute.

Gordon-James said, “Detective, I’m handing you what’s been marked as exhibit number thirty-nine. Can you tell me what it is?”

“It’s screenshots of a series of text messages taken from the cell phone found in Aurora Gates’s vehicle on the day her body was discovered.”

“With whom was Aurora Gates having this text conversation?”

“With the defendant, Daniel Caro.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Dr. Caro’s phone number was in the contact list in Aurora Gates’s cell phone.”

“Who took the screenshots of the text messages contained in exhibit thirty-nine?”

Detective Stokes directed his response to the jury. From long experience, he was comfortable on the stand. He conveyed the right note of gravity as he said, “I did, in the course of my investigation into her death.”

“And is a screenshot a reliable method of capturing what is on the screen of a cell phone?”

“It is.”

“Your Honor, I offer State’s exhibit number thirty-nine into evidence.”

Gordon-James was too eager. He was in such a hurry to get those texts up on the overhead screen, he hadn’t jumped through all the required hoops.

“Objection, Your Honor,” I said as I rose from my seat. “The exhibit hasn’t been properly authenticated, and the detective hasn’t provided evidence that it came from my client.”

Looking thoughtful, Walker scratched the back of his neck. “Mr. Gordon-James, you haven’t sufficiently linked the defendant to those texts. Objection sustained.”

Gordon-James backtracked. “Detective, were you present when the defendant was booked?”

“I was.”

“On that occasion, did you ask him for his phone number?”

“I did, as part of the standard booking procedure.”

“And what number did he provide to you?”

Stokes glanced at the defense table. “He gave a personal cell phone number that is identical to the number in Aurora Gates’s contacts and displayed on the texts in the exhibit.”

In fact, my client had handed the number to Stokes.

Caro thought he was being smart on the day he was booked when he invoked his Miranda rights and told Stokes that he wouldn’t submit to any police interrogation. My client had deleted from his phone all romantic texts, and he assumed his extramarital girlfriend had done the same. Big mistake. For a man whose professional life was devoted exclusively to the female gender, he didn’t know women very well.

Again, the DA said, “The State offers exhibit thirty-nine into evidence.”

Exhibit thirty-nine wasn’t particularly inflammatory, but more exhibits were coming. “Your Honor, there’s been no showing that my client was in control of the phone at the time the texts were sent.”

“Overruled. The exhibit will be admitted.”

Bam! Gordon-James hit a button on his laptop, and on the wall by the jury box the texts appeared, enlarged and easy to read.

The jurors swiveled in their seats, hungry to see the messages the DA and I had argued over, successfully building up the suspense.

The first text exchange had happened seven months before Aurora’s death, on the day of a chance meeting between my client and Aurora, who at the time was an intern working in the office of the DA, Henry Gordon-James. Her uncle.

Really good meeting you at the courthouse today, Dr. Caro!

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