Antonelli - 03 - The Judgment by D. W. Buffa Read Free Book Online Page A

That was what you had to understand about him: He had learned to ana-lyze his past behavior with almost clinical detachment. Yes, he had for years been having sexual intercourse with his own daughter. Yes, he understood this was something he should not have done. But now he was in counseling, where he was learning how to deal with his problem. Remarkable how a few words can change the way we think. His problem! Suddenly, it becomes something private, his own possession, something that ultimately does not concern anyone else, except insofar as the people affected by his behavior can help him with his problem. He is no longer the subject who has inflicted an unforgivable wrong that must be punished as an example to others, but an object for the professional attention of those trained to deal with his particular disease. He testified at the trial of his wife as if he had been called as an expert witness on a case that had nothing whatever to do with him.
    “He admitted everything; he gave no indication that he was embarrassed, much less ashamed, of anything. In response to the questions put to him, he described the way he had several times each week left the room he shared with his wife and gone down the hall to his daughter’s room. Though he said he always waited until his wife was asleep, he said it in a way that suggested he could not always have been sure.
    “The prosecution tried to make certain no one missed the point.
    ‘Then, it’s quite possible, isn’t it,’ Spencer Goldman asked, ‘that during the years this was going on, your wife became aware of what you were doing with your daughter?’
    “It was a call for speculation if there ever was one, and I was on my feet shouting my objection before he was finished with the question. But if I had thought that Jeffries was through with me, I quickly learned just how wrong I could be.
    ” ‘Overruled!’ he barked, motioning for me to sit down.
    ” ‘Your honor,’ I insisted, still on my feet, ‘he’s—’
    ” ‘He’s eliciting testimony that the mother must have known what the father was doing,’ Jeffries interjected. He gave me a sharp look. ‘And he’s doing that to demonstrate that the mother herself must have had something to hide. Isn’t that correct, Mr.
    Goldman?’
    “I stood there, speechless. There was no precedent for this. The judge had become the prosecutor, and I was the one he was after.
    ” ‘Isn’t that correct, Mr. Goldman,’ he asked again, his eyes still locked on mine.
    “Astonished at what Jeffries had done, Goldman had difficulty getting the words out. ‘Yes, your honor,’ he said finally.
    ” ‘Objection, your honor,’ I said, forcing myself into an even-tempered voice.
    “He thought I was repeating the same one. ‘I’ve already ruled,’
    he said, turning away.
    ” ‘I’m objecting to the comment of the court. It was gratuitous, and irrelevant, and completely prejudicial. I ask that the court withdraw it and instruct the jury to ignore it.’
    ” ‘You what!’ he blustered. Then, aware that a packed courtroom was watching, he stopped himself before he said or did something he might later regret. ‘You made an objection, Mr. Antonelli.
    I ruled on it. You made it again. I gave you the reasons for my ruling.’
    ” ‘The reasons for your ruling, your honor?’ I shot back. ‘Or the reasons why you think the jury should convict?’
    “He was livid. It was written all over him. But we were now on a public stage.
    ” ‘I hope you’re not questioning the integrity of this court, Mr.
    Antonelli,’ he said, with an ominous glance.
    ” ‘Far be it from me, your honor,’ I replied with a quick, ag-gravating smile, ‘to deprive anyone of the right to hope.’
    “If he had had a gun, I think he would have killed me. Instead, all he could do was try to ignore it. He shook his head as if I wasn’t worth his trouble and invited Goldman to continue his examination of the witness.
    “When it was my turn, I