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“Would you agree that in exchange for a fee, a prostitute engages in sexual relations with any number of men?”
“I’d say that’s the job description.”
“Now, there are many subsets of that job description, wouldn’t you say? From streetwalker to call girl?”
“Sure.”
“And some prostitutes work mostly out of their homes?”
“Some do.”
“And is it your understanding that Ms. Moon falls into that last category?”
“That’s what I was told.”
“Okay. And would you also agree that as a matter of hygiene and practicality, a prostitute working at home would do her best to shower after her sexual encounters?”
“I would say that would be a common and hygienic practice.”
“Do you happen to know how much water is typically used by a person taking a shower?”
“Twenty gallons, depending.”
Yuki nodded, said to Charlie, “Now, based on your general knowledge of prostitutes, and given that Ms. Moon worked at home, would you agree that she probably showered after having sex with each of her tricks, maybe six to ten times a day, seven days a week —”
“Objection,” Davis called out. “Calls for speculation on the part of the witness, and furthermore, I strongly object to the way counsel is characterizing my client.”
“Your Honor,” Yuki protested. “We all know that Ms. Moon is a prostitute. I’m only asserting that she’s probably a clean one.”
“Go ahead, Ms. Castellano,” Judge Bendinger said, snapping the rubber band on his wrist. “But get to the point today, will you?”
“Thanks, Your Honor,” Yuki said, sweetly. “Lieutenant Clapper, could you tell us this?” Yuki drew a breath and launched into what was becoming her trademark — an uninterruptible run-on question.
“If a man was dismembered in a bathtub, and in the three months between the day the crime was committed and the time you examined the bathtub a large amount of soap and shampoo and water passed through that two-inch drain — by my calculations, 100 gallons of soapy water daily — and now let’s double that for the johns who took a shower before going back to their dorm or office or home to their wives — so even if Ms. Moon practices ‘Never on Sunday,’ that would still be about 130,000 gallons by the time CSU examined the drains — could that acti
vity have completely cleansed that bathtub of residual trace evidence?”
“Well, yes, that’s very possible.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Thank you very much.”
Yuki smiled at Charlie Clapper as the judge told him that he could step down.
Chapter 74
YUKI SAT BESIDE the immense form of Len Parisi as Junie Moon’s sleazebag pimp-boyfriend, Ricardo “Ricky” Malcolm, was sworn in.
Yuki was fully aware that Davis had hired a bounty hunter to drag Ricky Malcolm over the Mexican border for his court appearance, and as Malcolm swore to tell the whole truth, she wondered if Davis really thought this punked-out, tattooed, and homely creep could persuade the jury of anything. Davis’s voice was confident as she asked Malcolm her preliminary questions, getting out ahead of the prosecution by getting Malcolm to say he’d served time for drug possession.
Then Davis started her direct examination in earnest.
“What’s your relationship to Ms. Moon?”
“I was her boyfriend.”
“No longer?”
“We’re separated,” Malcolm said drily. “I’m in Tijuana and she’s in jail.”
