Poor Little Bitch Girl Read Free Page B

whose career was on the downslide. The upcoming trial hit the front pages for months, culminating in a fast five days in court.
    The actress was not a popular woman; she’d portrayed a bitch on TV for several years. It wasn’t difficult for me to convince the jury that her role on TV came naturally to her, while also playing up the studio executive’s happy family angle, pointing out that as far as he was concerned, the one night of sex was consensual, he loved his wife and family, and that he deeply regretted the entire incident. Then I emphasized how much the actress needed – in fact, craved – the headlines of her past stellar career. And how she’d gone after Mr Big Studio Executive with a vengeance.
    “You saw the Beyoncé movie Obsessed ,” I dramatically stated in my closing argument, fixing the jurors with my wide hazel eyes, which I’ve been told can be quite hypnotic. “Then may I suggest that you consider this as the real-life version. Put yourselves in this man’s position.”
    A long pause for effect.
    “Yes, it’s true, my client cheated on his wife, but he’s never claimed to be a saint. And that’s all he did. One night of weakness with a seductive actress determined to get her career back on track. So . . . because of one lapse, and a fading actress who feels she’s been rejected, is this innocent man supposed to lose everything?”
    Another long pregnant pause. More deep eye-contact.
    “I don’t think so. Do you ?”
    The jury were sold.
    Result. A big victory.
    Everyone at the firm was more than pleased with the way I handled myself in court, and within six months I was handed another big newsworthy case. This time it was a beloved comedian accused of exposing himself to children in public places. I painted him squeaky clean. He had a family who was dear to his heart. A wife he doted over. Children of his own that he adored.
    Then I gave the impassioned closing argument about how this man – this gentle man who had raised so much money for children’s charities – would never harm a child or even think of doing so.
    Once again we won.
    Now this. A murder case. Although nobody had actually accused Ralph Maestro of killing his wife.
    Yet..
    “I think you’d better fill me in,” I said to Mister Shark Teeth as I followed him inside the Maestros’ imposing mansion.
    Felix stopped and patted me on the shoulder, while whispering confidentially in my ear.
    “Ralph Maestro is a very big movie star.” He paused to reconsider his words for a moment. “I mean, he was the biggest. Not so much today. But once a movie star it sticks, whether you’re still pulling in the big bucks or not.”
    “And is he?” I asked curiously.
    “Is he what?”
    “Still pulling in the big bucks?”
    “That’s irrelevant,” Felix said testily.
    I wondered if now was the time to tell him that I knew the Maestro family, had indeed attended school with their daughter. Then I decided it wasn’t necessary – they wouldn’t remember me anyway.
    Felix proceeded to tell me what had taken place. Apparently the Maestros had attended a major fundraiser the previous evening at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel, returning to their home at eleven. Gemma Summer Maestro had gone straight upstairs to her bedroom, while Ralph had stayed downstairs watching TV and enjoying one of his expensive and most likely illegal Cuban cigars. Later, he’d walked outside to visit with his dogs – two fierce pit bulls who were not allowed inside the mansion.
    Around one a.m. he’d gone upstairs to his bedroom – the Maestros kept separate bedrooms – not unusual amongst affluent celebrity couples. There he’d watched more TV until finally he’d fallen asleep around three. When he’d awoken at six in the morning he’d gone straight to his private gym in the back of the house, and it wasn’t until their Guatemalan housekeeper, Lupe, discovered Gemma’s body – shot while lying in her bed – that Ralph realized anything was