The Devil's Advocate Read Free

was committed to it more than he had been committed to anything else during his three years of practicing law. He wouldn't talk about anything else; he spent hours and hours doing research, investigating, working on weekends, doing far more than the retainer and fee justified.
    He flashed Miriam a confident smile, and then he spun around abruptly, almost as if a spring had snapped.
    "Mr. Cornbleau, you interviewed the three girls by yourself on Tuesday, November 3rd?"
    "Yes."
    "The alleged initial victim, Barbara Stanley, told you about them?" Kevin nodded to confirm the answer before he received it.
    "That's correct. So I invited them into my office."
    "Can you tell us how you began once they arrived?"
    "Pardon?" Cornbleau frowned as if the question were ridiculous.
    "What was the first question you asked the girls?" Kevin stepped toward the jury. "Did you ask if Miss Wilson had touched them on their buttocks? Did you ask if she had put her hands under their skirts?"
    "Of course not." .
    "Well, what did you ask?"
    "I asked them if it were true they were having the same sort of trouble Barbara Stanley had had with Miss Wilson."
    "The same sort of trouble?" He grimaced at the word trouble.
    "Yes."
    "So Barbara Stanley told her girlfriends what allegedly happened to her and the three young girls related similar experiences to her, but none of the three had ever told anyone else before. Is that what you're saying?"
    "Yes. That was my understanding."
    "Quite a charismatic ten-year-old girl," Kevin quipped, acting as if he had merely spoken a private thought aloud. Some members of the jury raised their eyebrows. A bald-headed man in the front right corner tilted his head thoughtfully and stared intently at the principal.
    When Kevin turned and looked at the audience, he saw that the dignified-looking man in the rear had widened his smile and was nodding encouragingly. Kevin half wondered if he might not be a relative of Lois Wilson, maybe an older brother.
    "Now, Mr. Cornbleau, can you tell the court what
    kind of grades Barbara Stanley was getting in Lois
    Wilson's class."
    "She was doing low C."
    "Low C. And had she had any problems with Miss Wilson previously?"
    "Yes," the principal muttered.
    "Excuse me?"
    "Yes. On two occasions, she had been sent to my office for refusing to do her work and using bad language in class, but..."
    "So you can safely say Barbara was not fond of Miss Wilson?"
    "Objection, your honor." The district attorney stood up. "Counsel is asking the witness to make a conclusion."
    "Sustained."
    "Sorry, your honor." Kevin turned back to Cornbleau. "Let's get back to the three girls, Mr. Cornbleau. Did you ask each of them to relate her experiences to you in your office that day?"
    "I thought it was best to get right to it, yes."
    "You're not telling us that while one told her story, the other two listened?" he asked, twisting his face to indicate his shock and incredulity.
    "Yes."
    "Wasn't that inappropriate? I mean, exposing the girls to these stories ... alleged experiences ..."
    "Well, it was an investigation."
    "Oh, I see. You've had experience with this sort of thing before?"
    "No, never. That's why it was so shocking."
    "Did you advise the girls that if they were making things up, they could be in serious trouble?"
    "Of course."
    "But you tended to believe them, correct?"
    "Yes."
    "Why?"
    "Because they were all saying the same thing and describing it the same way."
    Cornbleau looked satisfied with himself and his answer, but Kevin stepped closer, his questions coming in a staccato manner.
    "Then couldn't they have rehearsed it?"
    "What?"
    "Couldn't they have gotten together and memorized their stories?"
    "I don't see . . ."
    "Isn't it possible?"
    "Well. .."
    "Haven't you ever experienced children this age lying?"
    "Of course."
    "And more than one lying at the same time?"
    "Yes, but. . ."
    "Then isn't it possible?"
    "I suppose."
    "You suppose?"
    "Well. . ."
    "Did you call Miss Wilson in and confront her