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“Were you ever romantically involved with Miss Blue?”
“No.”
Tell me this, were you ever interested in dating Miss Blue?”
“No.”
“Did she ever express an interest in dating you?”
“Yes.”
“Would it be fair to say that Miss Blue has pursued you relentlessly via e-mail in an effort to become your girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“At some point, did you ask her to stop contacting you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“We work in the same industry. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“Did Miss Blue send you a suggestive e-mail shortly before the murder?”
“Yes.”
“Tell us about it.”
“It wasn’t like the others, where she just talked on and on about her life. This one was bold. She indicated that she wanted me to make love to her.”
Oh, the humiliation! I put my head down on my arms and wept right there at the defense table until Keith’s insistent whispering that I pull myself together made me sit up straight.
“Did you accept her invitation, Mr. Bell?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I figured that if I had sex with her, she would bug me even more, but her invitation really irked me so my reply to her e-mail was kind of mean. I’m sorry about it now. Jackie is really a nice person.”
Champ walked purposefully over to the prosecution table and picked up three pieces of paper which the judge allowed her to admit into evidence. She then addressed the jury. “Allow me to read Exhibit #1, an e-mail from Jacqueline Blue to Victor Bell:
Hi, Handsome,
Sorry you missed the Black Pack meeting last night. I was looking forward to seeing you. Suppose we both skip next Friday’s gathering and get together alone at my place. I’ll wear something sheer and pour Dom Perignon into real crystal glasses while we . . . er . . . talk.”
There was a flurry of activity in the courtroom and a few giggles. I stared at my hands.
She continued. “And now, Exhibit #2, Victor Bell’s reply:
Dear Jackie:
I have my hands full with my new girlfriend and career. Thank you for the offer but I’m not looking for THAT.
If you have any business-related requests, I will help you if I can.”
There was a gasp from somewhere in the back of the room. Was it my mother?
