Message-ID: <53194asstr$1141161001@assm.asstr.org>
From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Trying the Teacher {Varkel} (MF oral) [1/3]
Lines: 1603
Date: Tue, 28 Feb 2006 16:10:01 -0500
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Trying the Teacher
by Varkel
February, 2006



Part 1

Pounding the gavel, his honor Avery T. Harrington, judge of superior 
court, ordered loudly, "The court will come to order."

The rustling subsided among the two dozen curious in the spectator's 
gallery.  When the medium-sized courtroom was silent, the sharp-nosed 
judge's voice continued resonantly.  "The defendant being present, along
with the prosecution and defense attorneys, and the jury having been 
seated, we shall now begin the trial of ..."  He glanced down at a paper
before him.  "Of Harriet M. Frew versus the people of this state on the
following charges: Statutory rape of a minor beneath the age of consent:
five counts; Having sexual relations with a subordinate ward: five 
counts; Supplying an alcoholic beverage to a minor: two counts; and one
count of Moral turpitude in a government employee.  These are serious 
charges that may incur severe penalties.  Mr. Prosecutor, you may 
present your opening statement."

At the table on the judge's left and thus closer to the jury box, J. 
Everet Peele of the District Attorney's office, wearing a checkered 
sport coat, rose to his feet.  "Thank you, your honor," he said in his 
high voice, clearing his throat and turning his florid face to the jury.
"I'll be brief.  The defendant in this action was employed at Graham 
High School, where she taught social studies to students in the ninth 
and tenth grades.  One of her students was Jason Higgins Bartry, now a 
lad of 16 years.  On the night of April 8 last year, a Friday, she did 
induce Jason Higgins Barty, then age 15, in the tenth grade in her third
period class, to enter her automobile and to park with her in a wooded 
area south of town known generally as 'Lover's Hill.'  There she, being
28 years old at the time, did induce this lad, a 15 year-old below the 
age of consent, to have sexual relations with her twice.  On the 
following night, a Saturday, she rented Room 27 in the Marris Inn on 
Route 55.  There she did induce young Jason to have sex with her _three
times_ while giving him the alcoholic drink known as tequila. 

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we will prove these allegations by 
testimony and by physical evidence.  As the judge said, these are 
serious charges.  They deserve your careful attention and your vote of 
guilty when you have heard the arguments.  Thank you all."

He bowed slightly to the jury and resumed his seat with a pleased 
expression.  His female assistant smiled at him.

The judge declared, "The defense may make its opening statement."

Peter F. Davis was a gray haired man of middle stature going to fat in a
wrinkled blue suit.  He sprang to his feet and smiled at the jury.  
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.  I'll try to be even briefer than 
the prosecutor.  In regard to his offers of proof, I'm reminded of the 
old forensic question, 'Who would you rather believe, a dozen witnesses
swearing no dog has been by, or a dog's footprints in the dust?'"

A woman in the jury giggled, leading to laughter in the courtroom.  The
judge raised his gavel but withheld it when the humor died.  Davis 
smiled and continued, "Well, in this case I'm afraid the prosecutor has
practically nothing in the way of footprints.  Keep an open mind, ladies
and gentlemen, and remember that these are criminal charges.  To find 
the defendant guilty, you must believe it beyond a reasonable doubt.  I
think I can show you lots of reasonable doubt.  Thank you for your 
attention."

He resumed his seat and glanced at his client.  She was an attractive 
brunette with long hair rolled into a bun behind her head, wearing a 
simple gray dress with cream ruffles at the neck, flesh-colored hose and
black flats.  She sat behind her table, looking straight ahead without 
expression, hands crossed in her lap.  He leaned close to her and 
whispered, "Remember: smile at the jury once in a while."

Above her the judge said to the prosecutor, "Mr. Peele, call your first
witness."

"The state calls William G. Blaylock."

A uniformed bailiff opened the door to the witness room, stuck in his 
head and emerged shortly followed by a heavy-set man who took his seat 
on the witness stand.  The bailiff administered the oath and directed, 
"State your name."

"William Blaylock."

The prosecutor approached.  "What's your occupation, Mr. Blaylock?"

The man, wearing a neatly pressed suit, answered, "I'm a guidance 
counselor at Graham High School."

"What are the duties of a guidance counselor?"

"To advise students in their academic progress."

"Is Jason Higgins Bartry one of students you advise?"

"Yes, sir, he is."

"And do you recall a session with him last year during the first week of
May?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Tell us about that session."

"Well, he came into my office during Fifth Period and --"

"By 'he' you mean Jason Higgins Bartry?"

"Yes, I do.  He asked to see me about a personal matter.  I had him 
close the door, told him to sit down and go ahead.  He told me that Mrs.
Frew --"

"The defendant?"

"Yes, sir, the defendant -- that Harriet Frew had seduced him sexually 
and he felt like killing himself because of it."

"Like _killing_ himself?"

"Objection!" called the defense counsel loudly.  "Hearsay!"

"Overruled," said the judge, "though this is not the best evidence, Mr.
Peele."

"I know, your honor, but it shows the victim's seriousness.  So what did
you do, Mr. Blaylock?"

"Well, a teacher seducing a student is just about the worst thing --"

The prosecutor held up his hand.  "What did you _do_, sir?"

"Of course I immediately called the sheriff."

"Thank you.  That's all."

Peele sat down and Davis, the defense counsel, rose to stand before the
witness.  "Mr. Blaylock, what was the date of that session with Mr. 
Bartry?"

"Wednesday, May 4."

Davis smiled.  "You're very glib with that figure after nearly a year.
Did the prosecutor refresh your memory?"

"Not the prosecutor -- his assistant, Miss Marquette."

"Thank you.  And did Mr. Bartry tell you the dates when his seduction 
allegedly occurred?"

"Yes, he did."

"Did he explain why he waited nearly a month to report it?"

"Yes, sir."

"What was his explanation?"

"He said he was becoming increasingly distraught about it."

"'Distraught?'"

"Yes.  He knew it was wrong to have sex outside marriage.  His mother 
had told him to keep himself pure until he fell in love.  He didn't love
Mrs. Frew, but he had to see her three days a week in ELPS.  Oh, and 
also he was sorry for the harm he had done to Mrs. Frew's husband."

"'ELPS?'"

"Ms. Frew teaches _Economic, Legal and Political Systems_, what the 
prosecutor called 'social science.'"

"And for those reasons he was considering suicide?"

"Well, he said he felt like killing himself."

"Did he seem distraught or confused, Mr. Blaylock?"

"Well, no.  He was very quiet and spoke in a low voice."

"Did he meet your eye?"

"Sometimes."

"Only sometimes.  But you believed him implicitly."

"He had accused a teacher of, well, of betraying her trust in the most 
awful way.  I believed that it ought to be investigated."

Davis nodded and studied his note pad for a moment.  "Now then, Mr. 
Blaylock, to your knowledge is Mr. Bartry an athlete?"

"Yes.  Well, I know he is highly regarded by the football and soccer 
coach."

"He represents the school in team play?"

"Yes.  He's on the junior varsity this year."

"I see.  As a guidance counselor, you must necessarily be familiar with
all the rules and regulations pertaining to students.  Is that right?"

"Yes, sir."

"What is the academic requirement for school athletes?"

"To play they must maintain a C average or better in all subjects."

Davis retrieved a paper from the stack on his table.  He said to the 
judge, "Your honor, this is a copy of Jason Bartry's report card from 
last year.  I'd like to submit it as Defense Exhibit One."

"Mr. Peele?" the judge inquired.

"No objection."

"The document will be admitted," said the judge.  "Proceed, Mr. Davis."

The plump lawyer in his rumpled suit passed the card to the witness.  
"Here, Mr. Blaylock, in case the prosecutor's charming assistant failed
to refresh your memory.  Would you please state out loud Mr. Bartry's 
grades for last year?"

The witness hardly glanced down before declaring, "C."

"In all subjects?"

"Well, C-minus in three.  Except for ELPS."

"What was his grade in ELPS?"

"Incomplete."

"'Incomplete,'" Davis repeated.  "Why is it marked 'Incomplete?'"

"Well, it's obvious."

"Tell us why, Mr Blaylock."

"Under the circumstances who would believe Ms. Frew's grading could be 
objective and fair?"

"Ms. Frew was removed as a teacher before the end of the year, is that 
right?"

"Yes, sir."

"And a substitute teacher provided?"

"I believe so."

"Did the substitute submit grades for all the other ELPS students?"

"Yes, I'm sure she did."

"Then why couldn't the substitute decide Mr. Bartry's grade?"

The witness's lips twisted.

"Objection, your honor," called the prosecutor.  "This is getting far 
afield."

The judge said, "Mr. Davis, do you have some objective in mind for this
line of questioning?"

"I do, your honor, but I think the facts, when presented, will speak for
themselves.  I withdraw the question."

Davis took a step toward his table but halted and turned back.  "Mr. 
Blaylock, are you married?"

"Uh, no, sir, I am not."

"Did you ever ask Ms. Frew for a date?"

"A date?  Of course not!  She's a married woman."

"But did you ask her as a fellow chaperone to ride with you to the 
senior prom in March of last year?"

"Objection!" called the prosecutor.  "Relevance."

"Overruled," said the judge.

Without further prompting the witness said, "I may have ...  Yes, I 
believe I did."

"Did she accept?"

"Um, yes, she did."

"And did she ride with you to the gym?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alone with you?"

"Yes."

"But tell us this: with whom did she return home, Mr. Blaylock, after 
the prom was over?"

The witness bit his lip and looked beseechingly at the prosecutor, who 
rose to his feet, shaking his head.  "Objection, your honor: irrelevant
and immaterial.  How long must we endure defense's fishing expedition?"

The judge said, "Where are you going this time, Mr. Davis?"

"Your honor, I believe the answer may shed light on the witness's bias 
toward the defendant."

The judge thought a moment.  "Overruled."

Davis said, "Answer the question.  Who took her home?"

Blaylock drew a deep breath, hesitated and finally said, "Her husband."

"Thank you.  That's all."  Davis whirled around, returned to his table,
plopped into the chair and whispered to the defendant, "Well, I got it 
in."

"But you didn't ask him why," she whispered back, leaning close.

"If I'd gone too far they might've thrown out the whole line of 
questioning."

The prosecutor and his assistant were also exchanging whispers.  The 
judge called, "Any recross, Mr. Peele?"

A moment later Peele answered, "No, your honor.  I call Deputy Trallis 
to the stand."

A man in a county uniform with Sam Brown belt and pistol took the stand
and was sworn.  He stated his name as Harlan Trallis.

The prosecutor approached, holding his notepad ready.  "You're a deputy
sheriff for Graham County?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you have occasion to speak with Jason Bartry and his parents in May
of last year?"

"Yes, I did."

"What was the purpose of that conversation?"

"To satisfy myself that a crime had been committed and to gather 
evidence against the defendant."

"Did you interrogate young Mr. Bartry?"

"Yes, sir."

"I won't ask you the details of that conversation.  Just tell us the 
main points."

Tthe defense lawyer, spoke up.  "Objection, your honor: hearsay!"

Peele looked up at the judge.  "I intend to call young Jason, your 
honor, and the defense can cross-examine both him and the deputy about 
his interrogation."

"It's still hearsay," said the judge thoughtfully.

"It lays the groundwork for what follows now."

The judge shook his head.  "Let's hear what follows then I'll rule.  Ask
another question."

"Very well, your honor," Peele said with a grimace.  "Deputy Trallis, 
after interrogating young Bartry, did you obtain any physical evidence 
from his home?"

"Yes, sir, from his computer."

"What was that?"

"Email from the defendant to Jason Bartry."

Peele took up some stapled papers from his desk.  "Your honor, I would 
like to submit these five printouts as People's Exhibits One through 
Five."

Davis stood up at the defendant's table.

The judge glanced at him.  "Yes, Mr. Davis?"

"I object to these documents as having no probative value."

The judge's eyebrows rose.  "Let me see them, Mr. Peele."

The prosecutor handed them up.  The judge thumbed through them.  After a
bit he looked up at the prosecutor and shook his head.  "Don't you 
recognize this stuff, Mr. Peele?"

"Recognize, your honor?"

The judge read from the top sheet.  "It says, 'Think about this one, 
Jase.  But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes, / Feed'st thy 
light's flame with self-substantial fuel, / Making a famine where 
abundance lies, / Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel: / Thou
that art now the world's fresh ornament, / And only herald to the gaudy
spring, / Within thine own bud buriest thy content ...'"

The judge's voice rolled sonorously through the courtroom.  "That is a 
Shakespearean sonnet, or part of one, if I'm not mistaken."  He glanced
at the bottom of the page.  "It ends, 'We'll talk about it on Friday,' 
and is signed 'Harriet Frew.'  Hmm..."  He thumbed through the others 
again.  "Aha, perhaps more to the point!  'If I caress a young child, /
Immediately I think: farewell! / I will yield my place to you, / For I 
must fade while your flower blooms.'  And she gives due credit to an A.
Pushkin.  Your objection is overruled, Mr. Davis.  These pages will be 
admitted."

When the clerk had stamped them, the judge said, "Continue your 
examination, Mr. Peele."

"What did you do next, Deputy Trallis?"

"I, ah ...  I had learned that Mrs. Frew rented a motel room for them 
on, ah, April 9, so I went to the Marris Inn to verify that."

"And did you?"

"Yes."

Peele looked up to the judge.  "Your honor, the defense has stipulated 
to that motel room rental on April 9."

The judge's eyebrows rose.  He asked incredulously, "For the woman and 
the boy?"

"Not at all, your honor," declared the defense lawyer, rising to his 
feet.  "We stipulate only that Mrs. Frew did appear before the Marris 
clerk and rent Room 27 on the night of April 9, last year, and paid with
her credit card."

"Very well; so stipulated.  The jury will note that her rental of the 
motel room is not in controversy; you must take it as fact.  Proceed, 
Mr. Peele."

"After leaving the motel what did you do next?"

"I went to the defendant's home, arrested her while she was at dinner 
with her husband, impounded her automobile and executed a search 
warrant."

"Searching for what?"

"Any correspondence with the victim."

"Did you find any?"

"No."

"Did you impound her computer?"

"Yes, sir.  Its hard drive had crashed, according to our experts."

"Conveniently so?"

"_Ob_jection!" declared Davis.

"Sustained," said the judge.

"That's all my direct examination," said Peele.

"Very well," the judge responded.  "I now sustain defense's objection to
the conversation between this witness and Jason Bartry.  You have better
evidence."

"Very well, your honor."  Peele took his seat.

"Mr. Davis, you may cross-examine."

"Thank you, your honor."  Coming forward, the defense attorney paused 
and studied the deputy.  "How did you obtain these emails, now marked as
People's Exhibit One through Five?"

"Jason Bartry gave them to me."

"They were already printed out?"

"Ah, yes."

"Did you impound _his_ computer?"

"No.  He offered it freely."

"And did you take it for your experts to examine it?"

"Well ... no.  I asked Jason if he had any more communications with Ms.
Frew and he said this was all he had."

"But all those emails are from -- or purport to be from -- Ms. Frew.  
Did you find any replies to them?"

"No."

"Any communication at all from Mr. Bartry to Ms. Frew?"

"No."

"Did you look?"

"Ah ... no."

"Are you aware, deputy, how easily copies of email can be altered while
they reside on the recipient's hard drive?"

"They can?  I mean, no, I'm not."

"As the jury will see, those printouts contain only main headers: the 
From, To, Subject and Date lines.  Many additional headers are always 
sent with Internet email, including the delivery path and a line count."
He looked up at the judge.  "Your honor, could you order the full email
files be produced in court?"

"What about that, Deputy Trallis?" asked the judge.  "Are they 
available?"

"I don't know, your honor."

The judge grimaced.  "Well, it's been almost a year, but as soon as you
leave the stand, fetch Mr. Bartry's computer into court."

"Yes, sir."

"Proceed, Mr. Davis."

"You said you impounded the defendant's car.  What make and model is 
it?"

"Ah, a 1999 Ford Taurus four-door."

"What did you find in it?"

"Nothing probative."

"Did you find the alleged victim's fingerprints?"

"No.  Of course it was a month later and she uses the car a lot."

"Oh?  Do you have any evidence that she often gives rides to 
passengers?"

"Objection!" declared Peele.  "Relevance."

"Overruled," responded the judge.  "Answer the question, deputy."

"I have no evidence for that either way."

Davis continued, "Whose fingerprints did you find on the passenger door
handle, the passenger window and the window sill?"

"Her husband's."

"I believe the car has leather seats, doesn't it?  Does leather take 
fingerprints?"

"Yes, but they tend to fade after a while."

"Would they last a month?"

"Maybe."

"Whose fingerprints did you find on the back seat?"

"Hers and her husband's."

"No one else's?"

"Well, there were some we couldn't identify."

"I understand.  Thank you, Deputy Trallis.  That's all."

"You may step down," said the judge.  "Call your next witness, Mr. 
Peele."

The prosecutor stood up and declared loudly, "I call Jason Higgins 
Bartry."

The bailiff soon returned from the witness room, leading a young man to
the stand.  A few muffled exclamations arose from feminine spectators.
The judge regarded them curiously then studied the lad.  He was tall as
the medium-height bailiff, with shoulders as wide but a narrower waist.
He had blond hair cut neatly above his shoulders in Dutch-boy style, and
a prettily youthful, beardless face.  He wore a dark blue suit, white 
shirt, pale blue tie and plain shoes of polished black.

When the witness had taken the stand and the oath, and stated his name,
the prosecutor said, "Mr. Bartry, ah, _Jason_ -- may I call you Jason? 
-- I know this is somewhat of an ordeal for you, but we need your 
testimony about the defendant's behavior.  First a few preliminary 
questions.  You are a student, is that right?"

The lad swallowed and cleared his throat.  "Yes, sir."

"As a student, did you have occasion to know the defendant, Mrs. Harriet
Frew?"

"Yes, sir."

"How did you know her -- that is, I mean how as a student?"

"She, she was the ELPS teacher."  The lad's voice was clear, in the 
tonal range of a baritone, not the voice of a child.

"How long had she been teaching you ELPS?"

"In the ninth and tenth grade."

"Last year you were in the tenth grade?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you have any form of contact with her besides student and teacher 
before April 8 of last year?"

"No, sir.  Well, the email."

"Yes, the email."  Peele retrieved the stapled printouts from the clerk
and passed them to the lad.  "Read us the dates on them."

When the lad had done so, Peele said, "Four of them in March and the 
last on April 4.  What return address is on all five?"

Bartry read, "HarrietFrew-at-Outpass-dot-Net."

"Jason, how would you summarize the contents of these emails?  What are
they about?"

Without hesitation the lad answered, "How to express love."

"Are those your words, Jason?"

"No, sir.  They are Ms. Frew's words."

"What were the circumstances in which she stated them?"

Bartry shifted in his seat.  "It was right after class on the day ... 
the day we ..."

"Do you mean on Friday, April 8?"

"Yeah, it was Friday."

"What happened right after class?"

"She said I should learn how to express love like those poems did."

"What else did she say?"

"That maybe I could express it if I knew more about it."

"What else?"

Bartry's voice grew weaker.  "She offered to show me."

"To show you!" exclaimed Peele, compensating for the lad's lower volume.
"In what way?"

"Taking me up Lover's Hill with her."

"Did she say when?"

"That night, soon as it got dark."

"Did you agree to go?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why was that, Jason?"

"Well ..."  Bartry rolled his eyes, flicking a glance at the defendant.
"She's a fox!"

A murmur passed through the courtroom.  As it subsided the prosecutor 
turned to the judge.  "Your honor, I move for the defendant to rise and
face the jury."

"For what purpose?" asked the judge.

"So the jury can form its own opinion of Jason's claim."

"Objection!" called Davis, the defense attorney.  "The jury can see her
clearly as she sits."

The judge nodded.  "I agree.  Motion denied, Mr. Peele.  This is not a 
fashion runway.  Ask your next question."

"Thank you, your honor.  Jason, did you go with her that night, Friday,
April 8?"

"Yes, sir."

"How did you go?"

"She picked me up at the corner in her car."

"Was she alone?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where did she take you?"

"To Lover's Hill."

"Now, Jason, I want you to tell the jury in your own words what happened
there on Lover's Hill.  What was said?  What did she do?  What did you 
do?"

"I only did what she said."

"Okay.  Start with that.  What did she say?"

"Something about experience being the best teacher.  Then she folded the
console back and leaned over and hooked up with me."

"'Hooked up?'  What does that mean?"

"She, uh ..."  The lad glanced at the judge then at the jury.  "She 
sucked on me."

"She fellated you?"

"Yeah.  That's the word."

"Completely?"

"Till I came, if that's what you mean."

"That's what I mean.  Then what happened."

"She wanted me to hook up with her."

"And did you?"

"Yeah.  We got in the backseat and I licked her the way she told me to."

"Meaning that you performed cunnilingus?"

"Cunni --  Yeah, I guess."

"What happened next?"

"She said a back seat is not the best place to experience love, that she
would take me to a motel the next night."

"Did you engage in regular sex at all?"

"Not that night."

"All right, Jason.  What happened between you and the defendant on the 
following night, Saturday, April 9?"

"She took me to a motel."

"Which one?"

"The Marris."

"The Marris Inn?"

"Yeah."

"What happened in the motel?"

"We, uh, we went to a room.  She made us drinks with tequila and Sprite.
We got ..."  The lad's voice became inaudible and his eyes were cast 
down.

"Bailiff," ordered the judge, "position the witness's microphone and be
sure it operates."

The man in uniform came forward, adjusted a microphone on a long rod 
close to the lad's lips and tapped it with his finger.  A corresponding
thud sounded.

Peele said, "You testified the defendant made you drinks with tequila 
and Sprite.  That is, she made one for you and one for herself.  Is that
right?"

The witness's baritone echoed in the courtroom.  "Yes, sir."

"Please continue.  What happened next?"

Now the lad spoke distinctly.  "We got naked on the bed.  She sucked me
again.  I licked her.  She made us another drink and talked about ... 
what doing it meant.  Then we did it the regular way."

"What else did you talk about?"

"I go, 'How can you do this to your husband?'"

"What was her answer?"

"That he liked to hear about it afterwards."

"What did you understand that to mean?"

"When she did it with boys from school, she had to tell him all about it
when she got home."

"Did she name any other boy?"

"No, sir."

"Did she say how many other boys?"

"Objection!" shouted Davis.  "Leading."

"Overruled," responded the judge.

Peele asked again, "How many other boys, Jason?"

"She said three or four."

The prosecutor glanced at the jury, whose members were listening avidly.

"So let's see: you had two drinks of tequila and sex three times.  Is 
that right?"

"Uh ... sex twice."

"Twice?"  Peele's eyebrows rose.  Didn't you just testify to fellatio, 
cunnilingus and regular sex?"

"Oh.  You count cunni ... cunnilingus too?"

"The law does."

"Then it was three times."

"Yes, it was."  Peele consulted his notepad.  "Now then, the defendant 
rented the motel room on Saturday, April 9, last year.  Tell us, please,
why you did not report it until Wednesday, May 4?"

"I ... didn't really want to get Ms. Frew in trouble."

"Indeed!  If you felt that way, why did you report it at all?"

"Because I ... felt guilty."

"Of what?"

"Of disobeying my mother.  She always said I should stay pure until I 
got married."

"Did anything in particular cause you to feel guilty?"

"Yes.  Seeing Ms. Frew in every ELPS class.  Also I felt bad because of
helping her cheat her husband."

"Thank you, Jason, for your forthright and honest answers."  Peele bowed
slightly toward the defense table.  "Your witness."

Davis rose, approached the witness and stood a moment, regarding him 
intently.  The lad dropped his eyes.

"I remind you, Jason," said Davis, "that you have taken an oath to tell
only the truth and all of it.  Let's hear the rest of your story.  When
did you leave the motel?"

"I ... don't know."

"Wasn't there a clock in the room?"

"Um.  Maybe.  I didn't notice."

"Where did you go after you left?"

"Home.  She took me straight home."

"I noticed that the prosecutor carefully avoided mentioning any times of
day during your recital.  What time do you _think_ it was when you got 
home?"

"Objection, your honor!" called Peele.  "The witness has already stated
he didn't notice the time."

The judge shook his head.  "The question is what time did he _think_ it
was.  Overruled.  Answer the question, young man."

"It was ... late," said the lad, eyes lowered.

"After midnight?"

"I guess."

"Quite a bit after midnight?"

"I guess so."

"You were fifteen years-old.  Did you often stay out so late?"

"Not often."  The lad's voice was low but still distinct through the 
amplifier.

"You live with your parents, right?"

"Yeah."

"Do they go to bed at a regular time?"

"Yeah, about eleven."

"And lock up the house?"

"Yeah."

"How did you get back in on the night you say you went to the motel?"

"Through the backdoor."

"But you left home right after dark, didn't you?"

"Y-yeah."

"Before your parents went to bed?"

"Yeah."

"But when you got back home, well after eleven, you strolled right 
through the backdoor?"

"Dad must've left it unlocked."

Davis said sarcastically, "I guess he must have!  Did you go straight to
bed?"

"Yeah."

"How did you feel?"

"Okay."

"And you went right to sleep?"

"I guess."

"Was this your first real experience with a female?"

"Yeah.  Well, except the night before."

"So quickly cloyed!"  Continuing without a pause, Davis demanded, "Had 
you drunk tequila before?"

"Huh?  Ye--  I mean, no."

"Which is it, yes or no?"

"Ye-yes.  Harv gave us a drink from his dad's bar."

"What other kinds of liquor had you drunk?"

"N-none.  Only tequila."

"How did you drink the tequila in the motel room?"

"Ah, ah, Ms. Frew had a couple glasses in her purse."

"Did she indeed!  Did you chase it with Sprite or did she mix the Sprite
and liquor in the glass?"

The lad blinked in hesitation.

"Come, come, Mr. Bartry.  Tell us how you drank it."

"Objection, your honor," called the prosecutor.  "What difference does 
it make?"

"Overruled."

Davis asked, "Was it mixed, Jason?"

"Uh, yeah.  Mixed."

"Was the Sprite cold?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Where did the Sprite come from?"

"I, I don't know."

"From her purse, along with the drink glasses?"

"I don't know.  I didn't notice."

"How large a purse did she have?"

"Big, I guess."

"You guess!  Tell us about the motel room, Jason.  What was the number?"

"Um.  I didn't notice."

"What color were the inside walls?"

"I didn't notice."

"Did you notice any furniture in the room?"

"Uh.  Well, the bed."

"What kind of headboard did it have?"

"I didn't notice."

"How big was the TV?"

"I didn't notice?"

"Was it ever turned on?"

"N-no."

"In recent years many hotels have changed their key systems.  What kind
of key opened the door of this room?"

"I didn't notice."

"Apparently you were in that room several hours.  Did you go to the 
bathroom?"

"Yeah."

"What color were the sink and toilet?"

"Um.  I didn't notice."

"How about the tub and shower curtain?"

"I didn't notice."

"How many times have you been inside a motel room, Jason?"

"Just that one."

"Ever go with your parents?"

"Not that I remember."

"This is all very interesting.  Who advised you to say 'I didn't 
notice'?"

"Ms. Marquette."

"Who is that?"

The lad tilted his head toward the prosecutor's table.  "She's sitting 
right there."

"The prosecutor's assistant advised you to say 'I didn't notice'?"

"If I didn't know the answer but should have."

"What's the real reason you don't know the answers?"

The lad shifted in his seat.  "I didn't notice."

Davis chuckled.  "Very good!"  His expression changed.  "All right, 
Jason, tell us what you were studying in Ms. Frew's ELPS classes -- or 
didn't you notice?"

Laughter sounded in the courtroom.  The judge frowned and it died away.

"Mainly history," the lad answered.

"History of what?"

"Um, Europe and England."

"With emphasis on literature?"

"I ... guess so."

"Poetry and stuff?  Shakespeare?"

"Yeah."

"How were you doing?  What were your grades like?"

Without the amplifier the lad's answer would have been inaudible.  "They
were ... I was getting by."

"Do you recall your quiz grades in the latter part of April that year?"

"I don't remember."

"Or didn't you notice?"

"Objection!" declared the prosecutor.  "He's badgering the witness."

"Sustained," said the judge.

"Jason, look at the jury and answer this question.  Weren't your grades
so poor in April that you feared failing ELPS and losing your chance at
the junior varsity?"

"Objection!" called Peele, getting to his feet.  "Assuming a fact not in
evidence."

The judge looked at the witness's pale face.  "Overruled.  Answer the 
question, Mr. Bartry."

The lad's eyes flashed once at the jury but immediately fell.  He 
mumbled, "I-I was getting by."

"And did you decide that the best way to cover your grades was to remove
the teacher?"

Peele's florid face darkened.  "_Ob_jection!" he screamed.  
"Argumentative.  Badgering the witness."

"Withdrawn," said Davis calmly.  He turned away toward the defense table
but reversed himself and again faced the witness.  "One last thing, 
Jason.  When you reported these allegations to Mr. Blaylock, the 
guidance counselor, how did it make you feel?"

The witness shrugged.  "Mad, I guess."

"'Mad?'  You were angry?"

"Because of what she had done to her husband."

"And that made you angry?"

"I was also sad for letting my mom down."

"Did Blaylock appear to believe you?"

"Well ... not at first."

"Your honor," called the prosecutor, still standing, "I object to this 
whole line of questioning.  The witness has already testified to that 
conversation."

"Overruled," responded the judge, shaking his head.  "Proceed, Mr. 
Davis."

"You say Blaylock didn't believe you at first."

"Yeah.  He said it was my word against a teacher's."

"How did you convince him?"

"I guess ... after awhile he could tell I was serious.  He kind of got 
it."

"Did you tell him anything to show just how serious you were?"

"Objection!" called the prosecutor.

The judge interrupted before the florid-faced man could justify himself.
"Mr. Peele, I have already ruled that the entire conversation may be 
taken as evidence."

Shaking his head, Peele resumed his seat.

Davis repeated, "Jason, what did you say to Blaylock to convince him?"

The lad shrugged.  "After a while he just got it."

Davis studied the lad a moment then glanced at the jury.  "That's all,"
he said and walked back to the defense table.

"Any recross?" asked the judge.

"Uh, no, your honor," Peele answered.

Beside him Ms. Marquette whispered, "Why don't you remind the kid of his
threat to commit suicide?"

Peele gritted his teeth and whispered, "Tell me how to do it without 
asking a leading question!"

"You may step down, young man," said the judge.  "Mr. Peele, call your 
next witness."

"Your honor, the prosecution rests."

"Very well.  At this point the court would like to know if Mr. Bartry's
computer has been produced.  Deputy Trallis, I saw you re-enter the 
courtroom a moment ago.  Will you answer that question?"

The deputy stood up.  "Your honor, Jason Bartry's mother is in the 
court.  She tells me he has a new computer, that the old one was junked
last summer."

"Thank you, deputy.  Mr. Davis, is the defense ready to proceed?"

"Yes, your honor."

"Then call your first witness."

"Your honor, if I may, first I move to quash the five charges of having
sexual relations with a subordinate ward, on the grounds that the 
prosecutor has failed to offer proof of any kind for them."

The judge stared for a moment.  "Explain that, Mr. Davis."

"Mr. Bartry is a student of the defendant, not a ward, and is not 
dependent upon her in any sense.  When you read Public Law 17, Section 
4, which specifies those charges, it is apparent that the legislature 
meant to outlaw guards or nurses taking advantage of inmates, people who
truly are dependent wards."

"Very well, Mr. Davis.  I'll take your motion under advisement.  For now
proceed with the defense."

"The defense calls Hamilton Damien Frew."

A tall, gangly man took the stand, was sworn and stated his name.

Davis asked him, "Mr. Frew, what is your relationship with the 
defendant?"

"I have the good fortune of being her husband."  The man's voice was 
strong.  He glanced at the defendant and smiled.

"'The good fortune,' you say.  Under the circumstances ...  Sir, could 
you explain your choice of words?"

"She's in love with me and I'm in love with her.  That's good fortune."

"Then you don't believe she has betrayed you?"

"Objection!" called the prosecutor indignantly.  "Leading.  Furthermore
it's irrelevant and immaterial.  It doesn't matter what he believes."

"Sustained," said the judge.

"Mr. Frew," continued Davis with a slight smile, "do you recall the 
night of Saturday, April 9, last year?"

"Perfectly."

"Why is that, Mr. Frew?"

"Because it was our engagement anniversary."

"Your, ah, '_engagement_ anniversary?'"

"Yes.  Harriet and I were married very simply and quietly, but our first
intimacy took place on the night of our engagement.  So that's what we 
celebrate every year."

"How long ago was that?"

"Five years."

"And the last time you celebrated it was last year on April 9?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell us about that."

"We had decided to spend the night at a motel for a change of scene.  I
had to stay late at the store so Harriet checked us in at the motel.  I
joined her a bit later and we spent the night."

"Did you meet with anyone else that night?"

"No one."

"In particular, did you meet with or see the alleged victim, Jason 
Bartry, at any time?"

"No.  Not a trace."

"When did you and your wife leave the motel?"

"The following morning about nine o'clock."

"Did you see anyone then?"

"No, the maids had not yet shown up.  We had incurred no other charges,
so we left the bill on our card."

"Mr. Frew, can you describe the motel room?  What was the number?"

"It was Room 27.  It had blue wallpaper with a faint yellow pattern of 
flowers.  The bed was a Hollywood style queen-size, with a massive 
bookcase headboard."

"What about the bathroom?"

"It was light blue with white furnishings.  The tub had a blue shower 
curtain."

"Did you notice a clock in the bedroom?"

"Yes, a digital clock with a glowing readout in two-inch red numerals.
It was on the headboard."

"Mr. Frew, to the best of your knowledge has your wife ever betrayed you
with another person?"

"Absolutely not."

"Thank you, sir.  That's all."

The judge said, "You may cross-examine, Mr. Peele."

The prosecutor sneered.  "I have no questions for this witness who is so
_very_ friendly to the defense, though I state at this time I will call
another witness in rebuttal to his testimony."

"Very well.  The court takes notice of your intent to reopen the 
prosecution's case.  Call your next witness, Mr. Davis."

"I call Marjory L. Callahan."

The bailiff returned from the witness room, leading a neatly-dressed 
fortyish woman with short hair and restrained makeup.  She was seated, 
sworn and answered with her name.

"Mrs. Callahan," asked Davis, "what is your occupation?"

"I am a high-school teacher for Graham Country."  Her voice was a 
scratchy contralto.

"What was your occupation in May of last year?"

"I had just recovered from medical treatment and was assigned to 
complete Harriet Frew's ELPS classes after she ... left."

"Objection, your honor!" called the prosecutor.  "By this witness's own
admission she can know nothing about the crimes charged."

The judge shook his head.  "Oh, I think that's a premature conclusion, 
Mr. Peele.  Overruled."

Davis continued, "When you took over Ms. Frew's classes, in particular 
the ELPS class attended by Jason Bartry, what did you find out about 
Jason's record?"

"Objection!" cried Peele.  "Irrelevant and immaterial."

"Overruled," answered the judge.  "The witness will answer."

"He was failing," said the woman.

"'Failing,'" Davis repeated.  "Where was this record kept?"

"In the school server is where I saw it.  All teachers keep personal 
printouts, of course, but Ms. Frew had cleaned out her desk."

"What information indicated Jason was failing?"

"Poor quiz grades, some of which were zeroes because of absences never 
made up, and a major zero for a midterm report that had never been 
turned in."

"When exactly did you replace Ms. Frew?"

"On Thursday, May 5."

"So you served almost a month.  Did you do anything with the intention 
of improving Jason's grades?"

"Well, yes, I talked to him about them, especially that missing report."

"Your honor," said Peele, getting to his feet, "I renew my objection.  
This occurred, all of it, _after_ the illegal acts occurred."

"Sustained," said the judge.

Peele immediately continued, "I move that this witness's testimony be 
stricken."

"Overruled," the judge retorted.  "Mr. Davis, do you have additional 
questions for this witness?"

"Just one, your honor.  Ms. Callahan, did you have occasion to discuss 
Jason Bartry with the principal of Graham High?"

"Yes, I did."

"When did this discussion occur?"

"The last week of school, when the final grades were assigned."

"What was the subject of the discussion?"

"Objection, your honor!" shouted Peele.

"Overruled," responded the judge before the angry prosecutor could cite
his reasons.  "What was the subject, Ms. Callahan?"

"Jason's grade."

"What did the principal say?" asked Davis.

"To give Jason an Incomplete."

"Instead of an F?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you know why?"

"Yes, they needed him on the junior varsity the next year."

"Objection!" Peele shouted.  "That _has_ to be hearsay or worse."

"Sustained," responded the judge.  "That question and answer will be 
stricken.  The jury is instructed to ignore them.  Is that all, Mr. 
Davis?"

"Yes, your honor."

"You may cross-examine, Mr. Peele."

The prosecutor approached the stand with a frown.  "Ms. Callahan, to 
your knowledge what does the school server presently record as Jason's 
grades in tenth grade ELPS?"

"Incomplete."

"No, I refer to the grades you described for the defense attorney."

"Well, the zeroes have been replaced by Incompletes."

"Did you do that?"

"Yes, sir, at the principal's direction."

"I see.  Now then, Ms. Callahan, I call your attention to students' 
comments and behavior in Jason's ELPS class after you took over.  Did 
you notice anything on the subject of Ms. Frew or Jason?"

The defense attorney leapt to his feet, mouth open to speak but closed 
it with a snap.

"Yes, Mr. Davis?" inquired the judge.

"Pardon me, your honor," said Davis, dropping back into his seat.

Peele repeated, "Did you notice anything on that subject, Ms. Callahan?"

"Only that Jason didn't answer the roll call for over a week."

"Nothing else?  No conversations among the students?"

The judge cleared his throat.  "If the defense won't object to this line
of questioning, the court will.  It appears that you are soliciting 
gossip, Mr. Peele.  Ask a different question."

"Um.  Thank you, your honor.  I have no more questions for this 
witness."

"Any recross, Mr. Davis?"

"No, your honor."

"You may step down, Ms. Callahan.  The defense will call its next 
witness."

Standing up, Davis said, "The defense rests, your honor."

"Very well.  Mr. Peele, did you have a rebuttal witness?"

"Yes, your honor.  The people call Alonzo Duff."

Wearing jeans, dirty sneakers and exposed shirttails, Alonzo Duff, 
sallow face unshaven, took the stand and was sworn.

Peele asked, "Mr. Duff, how old are you?"

"Thirty-eight."

"In the spring of last year what was your occupation?"

"I helped out some at the Marris."

"That was the Marris Inn on State Highway 55?"

"I reckon.  They ain't no other one, is they?"

"I call your attention to the evening of April 9, a Saturday.  Did you 
have occasion to be in the motel parking lot that night?"

"Yeah."

"Did you see anyone near the motel that night who is presently in the 
courtroom?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Please rise and point out the person you saw...  Will the pointed-out 
person please rise also? ...  The standing person -- Mr. Duff, is that 
the person you saw that night?"

"Yeah."

"Let the record show that Mr. Duff has pointed out Jason Bartry, the 
complaining witness in this case.  Thank you.  You may both sit down...
Mr. Duff, where exactly did you see Jason that night?"

"In a car parked in the lot."

"Who was with him?"

"I didn't see nobody else."

"About what time was this?"

"It was full dark."

"Was there enough light to make him out?"

"Yeah, a street light nearby."

"Isn't it actually an area light?"

"Yeah, area."

"How do you fix Jason in your memory?"

"Huh?"

"That night was almost a year ago, Mr. Duff.  How can you be sure of the
date and that it was the same person?"

"I know it was that night 'cause that's the only Saturday night I hung 
around the motel.  I asked him if he had a cigarette."

"How did he respond?"

"He cussed me and rolled up the window."

"And you're absolutely certain it was the person you just pointed out: 
Mr. Jason Bartry?"

"Yeah, it was him."

"Thank you.  That's all."

The defense attorney took his place with a smile.  "You remember that 
person very well, do you?"

"Yeah."

"Then what side of the car was he sitting on?"

"Huh?"

"Was he in the driver or the passenger seat?"

"The driver seat."

"In the driver's seat?  But he was only 15, Mr. Duff."

The witness shrugged.  "Maybe he moved over there while he was waiting 
for somebody."

"On what side of the car were you standing when you asked for a 
cigarette?"

"The driver's side."

"All right.  Now what kind of car was it?"

The man blinked and rolled his eyes.  "I can't say."

"Why can't you say?"

"I don't remember.  Guess I didn't notice."

"'Didn't notice!'  Have you been talking to Ms. Marquette too?"

A bark of laughter in the courtroom drowned his reply, if any.

"Now this is very important, Mr. Duff.  Did you see anyone else near 
that car at any time?  Did you see the occupant get out and go into any
room?"

"No.  When he cussed me, I left."

"Where did you go?"

"To the lobby.  I still wanted to cage a smoke."

"Did you see that car or its occupant later that night?"

"No, I didn't."

"Thank you.  That's all, your honor."

The judge asked, "Any re-cross, Mr. Peele?"

"No, your honor.  The prosecution rests."

"The witness is excused.  The court will now take a recess for lunch.  
When it reconvenes at 1:30, I will rule on the defense motion and hear 
the closing arguments."

"All rise!" shouted the bailiff as the judge pushed back his chair.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <story-submit@asstr.org>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-admin@asstr.org> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+