Have You Seen Luis Velez?(71)

“Objection, Your Honor,” the defense attorney said, struggling to his feet. “Badgering the witness.”

“Overruled. It’s a fair question, and the witness needs to answer it.”

Silence in the court. For maybe the count of five.

“I’m a good judge of character. I can feel in my gut when something’s wrong.”

“If that’s true, Ms. Hatfield, then this incident is a terrible example. I mean, you couldn’t use this case to prove it. Mr. Velez was trying to return a dropped item. You just about couldn’t have been more wrong about him. Your judgment of his character couldn’t have fallen further from the truth. But let’s just go with this for a minute. Someone is behind you in the street. You judge their motive. Based on what?”

A stunned silence.

“The defendant will answer the question,” the judge said.

“I don’t know, really. It’s just a feeling.”

“Okay. A feeling. I want to go a little deeper into these feelings. If I was walking behind you on the street, would you judge me a threat?”

“I don’t know. No. Maybe.”

“That’s a lot of answers, Ms. Hatfield. You told the court you were good at this.”

“On the one hand, you’re a man. But you obviously have plenty of money.”

“Interesting. So a richer person is less of a threat?”

“Don’t twist my words.”

“I think I was paraphrasing you accurately.”

“I only meant . . . why would you need to rob me? You have money.”

“So poor people steal and rich people don’t?”

“I didn’t say that. I just said you’d have no need to steal.”

“So if people who have plenty of money aren’t interested in stealing any more money, then I’m curious as to what’s in all those offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands.”

“Objection, Your Honor.”

“Overruled,” the judge said. “The defendant opened this line of questioning herself when she claimed she could correctly assess a threat.”

The defense attorney sighed and slumped into his chair again.

“What about this young gentleman?” Raymond looked up from his notes to see everyone staring at him. “If he was walking on the street behind you, what would your judgment say?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about him.”

“You didn’t know anything about Luis Velez, either. What about the elderly woman who was in court with this young man yesterday? Do you remember her?”

“I do.”

“What if she was walking behind you?”

“That’s a preposterous question.”

“Why?”

“Because she couldn’t outrun a two-year-old on a wobbly tricycle. Why, she can’t even see. What possible harm could she do me?”

“So it’s about the physical ability to do harm.”

“Well, yes. He was a big man. A big man can hurt me.”

“How did you know?”

“How did I know what?”

“How did you know he was a big man? You hadn’t turned around yet.”

“I saw reflections in the windows as we passed them.”

“I see. I can’t imagine that would provide much detail. Especially since it was nearly dark.”

“It did, though. Plenty of detail. I could see him very well. Everything about him. He was big. He probably outweighed me by a hundred pounds.”

“And I outweigh you by sixty or seventy, but you say you don’t find me threatening. And whether it’s seventy or a hundred, you’re still outmatched.”

“I know what you’re getting at,” Hatfield spat. “And I don’t appreciate it.”

“What am I getting at?”

“You’re suggesting prejudice.”

“Am I?”

“You know you are, now don’t play games with me. Look, all I knew is that he was a man and he was big. I didn’t even know anything about his . . . you know. Race or nationality. How could I? I hadn’t even looked around.”

“But you said you saw him in reflections in the windows. You said the images were very detailed. You said you saw everything about him.”

“You’re a very frustrating man,” she said, blowing out an audible breath of disgust.

“All I’m doing is going over what you could possibly have known about Luis Velez so we can figure out what part of it felt threatening to you. You knew he was a man, that he was big, and that he was Latino.”

“That’s not why. There are other things you’re not taking into account. Feelings you get. Sometimes a person just feels menacing, and you can’t point to why. You just know it.”

“But he wasn’t menacing, Ms. Hatfield. We’ve well established that you were wrong about that. He was just about the least menacing person you could have had walking behind you. He was a good Samaritan. He was trying to make you see that you had dropped an important item. He was a loving husband and father. Three times a week he rode more than half an hour round-trip on the subway to help an elderly blind woman do her errands.”

“But I had no way of knowing that!”