“Mr. Durden, have you ever testified in court before?”
“No, sir.”
“It’s a little nerve-racking, isn’t it?”
Yuki thought it was a question meant to rattle the witness, but it allowed the jury to see defense counsel as sympathetic, treating the witness with respect. If she objected, she could irritate the jury.
“I’m feeling fine,” said Graham Durden. He folded his hands in front of him.
“Good. Now, Mr. Durden, you swore to tell the truth, and yet in truth, you weren’t a hundred percent sure that the man you saw on March first was Mr. Herman, isn’t that right?”
“It was Mr. Herman. I know Mr. Herman.”
“You told the police—and I’m reading from the transcript of your phone call to nine-one-one—‘I’m ninety percent sure that the man getting into the car was Keith Herman.’”
“I said that, but it was a figure of speech. It was definitely him. And Keith Herman was carrying Lily out to the car. Put her body into the backseat.”
“What kind of car was that again, Mr. Durden?”
“A late-model Lexus sedan, 2011.”
“And what color was the car?”
“Black.”
“Now, you told the police it was a dark-colored Lexus, isn’t that correct?”
“Black is dark. I should know.”
There was a smattering of nervous laughter in the gallery. Yuki wasn’t concerned. Graham Durden was a high school principal. He was about as credible a witness as there was. He had described the car as “dark.” And yes, black was dark. He had told the police he was 90 percent sure he saw Herman. He was being careful.
“So just to be sure we’re both on the same page,” Kinsela said, turning to give the jury a good long look at the gravity of his expression. “You saw Mr. Herman put his daughter into a dark Lexus sedan on the street outside his house.”
“That’s right.”
“Did you get the license plate number?”
“That car is always parked right there. I know the car.”
“Yes or no: did you get the license plate number of that dark Lexus, Mr. Durden?”
“No.”
“Now, as to the body of the girl you say you saw the defendant bring out to the car: did you one hundred percent identify that body as Lily Herman’s?”
“One hundred percent,” Durden said angrily. “One hundred percent.”
“And how do you know she was dead?” Kinsela asked mildly.
“Her head was hanging back. She was limp.”
“Could she have been asleep? Did you feel her pulse?”
“What?”
Yuki said from her seat, “Your Honor, counsel is badgering the witness.”
Judge Nussbaum said, “Overruled. Mr. Kinsela, pick one question and ask it again.”