Malice

23

Twelve expectant faces. twelve pairs of eyes. seven men. Five women. All white. And all with their attention riveted on Butch Karp as he stood for a moment at the lectern, going over the conclusion to his opening statement in the O'Toole trial one last time in his mind.

Meyers had asked him to give the opening statement. "I'd prefer the closing arguments," the young lawyer explained. "I think if I have any jitters, they will be at the beginning of the trial, but by the end I'll be in the groove."

After the jury was seated and had been instructed by Judge Allen as to their duties, he turned to Karp. "Your opening statement, Mr. Karp."

Karp rose from his chair.

So Karp had started the morning laying out the basics of the case for the jurors, beginning with a brief history of O'Toole's tenure at the university, his accolades and accomplishments.

"Coach O'Toole loved the university and had decided that even should an offer come from a larger school, the University of Northwest Idaho was where he wanted to be," he said. "However, all of this changed in the spring of last year when a former player on Coach O'Toole's baseball team-a player who'd been dismissed from the team, and whose father is a major contributor to the university's athletic programs-claimed that O'Toole had asked him to show two recruits 'a good time.' According to this player, Rufus Porter, a good time included taking them to a party where they consumed alcohol and engaged in sexual acts with strippers-all allegedly paid for by Coach O'Toole from a university athletic account."

Karp had to be careful how he worded the reasons behind Rufus Porter's dismissal from the team. At a pretrial hearing, Zusskin had successfully argued that the plaintiff and his attorneys should not be allowed to say that Rufus Porter had been kicked off the team because of the sexual assault charges filed by Maly Laska. "The charges were dropped," the attorney had pointed out. "And even if the case had been adjudicated and Porter found guilty, it would be unfairly prejudicial to the rights of the defendants to a fair trial because they would be seen in the same light as an accused rapist."

The judge agreed and said that the plaintiff and his attorneys would be limited to saying that Porter had been dismissed "for conduct detrimental to the team." And that O'Toole had refused to reinstate him despite pressure from the university.

Karp hoped that the jurors would sense that there was more to the story. But at least they would have some motive for Porter to unjustly accuse the coach. "And," he now told the jurors, "only when Coach O'Toole refused to let Porter back on the team did he make these grossly unfair and untrue accusations."

"However," Karp went on, "although we will prove to you that these allegations were false, they are not what this lawsuit is about." He went on to explain how based on Porter's charges, O'Toole had been brought before an ACAA hearing panel "and without the opportunity to confront his accuser, or present evidence, or call witnesses of his own, Coach Mikey O'Toole was summarily suspended from coaching for a period of ten years."

Karp let the number sink in before continuing. "Ten long years, ladies and gentlemen, a veritable death sentence to his coaching career. But the injustice did not stop there. When Coach O'Toole asked the university through its president, E. 'Kip' Huttington, for the opportunity to clear his name at a public hearing conducted at the university, his request was denied. He was told that it would not be in the best interest of the school and-if you can somehow get your arms around this-that it would not be in his own best interest. He was told to move on with his life…to move on with his life having been denied the birthright of every American to face his accusers, defend his innocence against malicious lies, and continue to pursue his chosen profession."

Karp hoped that his "little speeches" from his voir dire questioning of the day before were resonating with the jury. "During the course of this trial, you will hear us discuss something called a liberty interest. Now, most of us think of liberty as 'freedom'-for instance, the freedom, or liberty, to live where we want, or do what we want and say what we want as long as we don't commit a crime or infringe on the liberty of other people. However, our courts have also held that there's another type of liberty, and that's the liberty to seek employment in the career of our choice. And it is that liberty, ladies and gentlemen, that was taken from Coach O'Toole without a fair hearing."

It was at this point that Karp stopped to go over his conclusion, which he'd altered the night before after his confrontation with Coach Anderson. "If I may, I'd like to divert for a moment to tell you a story about one of the members of the ACAA hearing panel that so cavalierly acted to destroy our client's life. That man is sitting in the back of the courtroom right now-the white-haired gentleman in the last row behind the defendant's table."

Everyone in the courtroom turned to look at Coach Anderson, whose eyes narrowed and cheeks blushed but who otherwise made no indication that he had unexpectedly become the focal point of Karp's statement. "His name is J. C. Anderson, who some of you may recognize as one of the most successful college football coaches of his era."

"Objection," Zusskin said, his baritone reverberating off the wooden walls of the courtroom as he stood up from his seat between Welt on one side and Huttington on the other. "Coach Anderson is not a participant in this trial. I see no purpose to this little anecdote."

"Mr. Karp?" Judge Allen said.

"Your Honor, if you'll bear with me for a moment, I think it will become clear how this 'little anecdote' applies to what we are doing here today," Karp said.

Judge Allen's lips twisted as he considered, and then he nodded. "I'll allow it; however, please get to your point quickly."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Karp said. "I will." He then repeated the story of hearing Anderson speak at the basketball camp. "I never forgot what he said about life not being a matter of winning and losing, but about fair play. And in the end, fair play is also what this trial is really all about. It was something that Coach Anderson and the other members of that hearing panel seemed to have forgotten."

Karp studied the twelve faces of the jurors and noted their eyes flitting from him to the coach and back. It was time to deliver his message. "We intend to prove by a preponderance of the evidence that the truth of this case is that the American Collegiate Athletic Association and the University of Northwest Idaho and its president, Huttington, acting in concert, created and disseminated false and defamatory accusations that have so stigmatized Coach O'Toole that even should his suspension be lifted, or if he waits ten long years, it will prevent him from coaching again. How do I know? Well, you will hear from athletic directors of other colleges and universities-men who will acknowledge that even though Coach O'Toole is eminently qualified, they would never be allowed to hire him given the nature of the charges brought against him."

Karp looked into twelve pairs of eyes. "We will learn from the evidence the real truth in this case-that the defendants acted with malice, meaning they knew the charges against Coach O'Toole were false and acted with a reckless disregard for truth." He allowed his voice to rise and grow tight. "That, ladies and gentlemen, is the legal definition of malice. Justice cries out, good conscience demands, and common sense dictates that you will not permit this malice to breathe another moment."

Karp took his seat and calmly watched Zusskin rise from his like some great Shakespearean actor relishing the moment before he delivers his lines. "That was a beautiful speech," the attorney said at last. "The sort of speech we might expect on the Fourth of July-all about American birthrights and the Constitution. I myself might have been moved by those words in some other time and place. But ladies and gentlemen of the jury, in this courtroom today, those words were little more than smoke and mirrors intended to disguise what this trial is really about. Allow me to return for a moment to what we believe are the true facts of this case."

Rufus Porter, he said, had been a dedicated member of the university baseball team who "through no fault of his own…and with questionable reasoning saw his minutes on the playing field dwindle. As such, he became desperate to please his coach so that when that coach asked him to do something they both knew was not right, he went ahead and did it anyway. He was the instrument of Mr. O'Toole's bid to lure players who might lead his team to a national championship."

The facts will show, he said, that the recruits in question had been truthful when they said that Mr. O'Toole was aware of the party and had sponsored it. "And they told this to an objective investigator for the ACAA shortly after these allegations came to light, not months later when a New York City police detective hunted them down on behalf of Mr. O'Toole and got a different story. You'll also hear from other corroborating witnesses that calls were placed from Mr. O'Toole's office and that alcohol and the services of strippers were purchased using a credit card entrusted to Mr. O'Toole by the university.

"But I agree with Mr. Karp somewhat. The allegations raised by Rufus Porter against Mr. O'Toole are not really what this trial is about. This trial is about whether the ACAA panel, and the university, was acting in accordance with their rules and regulations when they conducted an investigation, held a hearing, and then suspended Mr. O'Toole for violating those rules and regulations."

Zusskin looked up at the ceiling of the courtroom for a moment and sighed. "A few minutes ago, Mr. Karp eloquently spoke about our rights as Americans. Well, he left out some rights, including the right of private entities and institutions to conduct their affairs without undue interference from the government. Let me give you an example. What should be the role of the courts when a member of a country club is expelled for consistently breaking the rules regarding the wearing of a shirt with a collar? Should our courts be tied up because the rule breaker was not given the opportunity to cross-examine or confront the club's board of directors? Or say an employer terminates the employment of someone who is not performing their job in a satisfactory manner or in accordance with the rules and regulations surrounding that employment. What if it was a doctor or an airline pilot who got caught drinking on the job? Should they be able to sue the hospital or airline because they were not afforded a trial? The government will step in to protect certain classes from discrimination based on race, religion, national origin, gender, or age, but do we want the government telling private entities how to conduct themselves at every little turn?"

Zusskin pointed out that the jurors could expect the plaintiff to attack the transcript of the interviews of the two recruits "because it is not the entire transcript of every little thing that was said. For the purposes of the hearing, the transcript only dealt with the questions and answers relevant to the panel. Did Coach O'Toole know about the party? Did he encourage Rufus Porter to take two recruits out of the dormitory and show them a 'good time'? And did Coach O'Toole facilitate this 'good time' by making arrangements with an escort service and paying for them as well as the alcohol that was consumed by these underage recruits? And, lastly, did he then attempt to interfere with the investigation of these charges?"

Zusskin pointed out that the ACAA investigator, Larkin, was following standard procedure when he transcribed only the statements that were relevant and then reused the tape. "There was nothing malicious, a word Mr. Karp likes to throw around, about Mr. Larkin's actions."

Zusskin walked back to the defense table, where, with his back to the jury, he winked at Karen Welt, who was watching him with adoration. As if suddenly remembering something, he turned back to the jury. "If you please, one last comment regarding Mr. Karp's little story about Coach Anderson. I believe that his point was that fair play is as American as apple pie. But in sports, doesn't fair play mean playing by the rules of the game? We might not like all of those rules-heck, I played safety for my college football team and would have loved to pop those receivers before they caught the ball-but we have to abide by the rules or we are not playing fair. My point is that Mr. O'Toole signed a contract agreeing to abide by the rules, including the use of panels to hear complaints and make rulings. And now he doesn't want to play by those rules. We believe that you should insist that he does. Thank you."

Boy, he's good, Karp thought as Zusskin took his seat and Judge Allen asked them to call their first witness.

"Thank you, Your Honor," Meyers said, rising from his seat. "We call Mikey O'Toole."

O'Toole got up from his seat at the plaintiff's table and climbed into the witness stand, where he was sworn in. He then sat and smiled at the jurors. "Good morning," he said quietly. Most returned the greeting and a few even smiled back.

The first part of O'Toole's testimony repeated Karp's opening regarding who he was, how he came to be a coach at the university, and a brief history of his time there leading up to the recruiting event. They then entered the more delicate area of when and how O'Toole learned of the party that led to the dismissal of Rufus Porter from the team.

Karp and Meyers had decided that the best offense was to go after the ACAA case against O'Toole. They didn't want to rely just on a strategy centered on whether O'Toole had received a fair hearing that protected his rights to due process without showing that the allegations against him were false and that the entire case had been a farce from the beginning.

"At what point did you learn about the party?" Meyers asked.

"After Rufus was…" O'Toole had been about to say "arrested" but caught himself just in time. "After Rufus violated team rules and was dismissed for conduct detrimental to the team. It was after that I was told by Clyde Barnhill, the university's attorney, that Porter was accusing me of the allegations."

"Did you at any point encourage Rufus Porter to show these two recruits a 'good time' by taking them to a party where alcohol was served and they would engage in sexual conduct?"

"I did not."

"Did you arrange for strippers from the Pink Pussycat Escort Service or pay for such activities?"

"No."

"Did you pay for alcohol?"

"No."

Meyers asked if it was possible for someone else to have used the telephone in his office and have access to the credit card.

"Yes," O'Toole replied. "I let students, including my players, use the office-sometimes to call home, or as a place to do their homework. Sometimes they just hang out there before or after practice, and I'm not always around. I trust them."

"What were your instructions regarding the recruits on the night in question?"

"They were to attend a team dinner and then be taken back to the dormitory with lights out at ten p.m."

After the review of the history, Meyers moved on to the ACAA hearing, asking O'Toole to recall what he could of how it was conducted and what questions he was asked. "How long did it take the panel to reach a decision to suspend you?"

"About an hour."

"An hour. And can you explain to the jury the effect the ACAA decision to suspend you will have on your career?"

O'Toole tried to clear his throat and when he couldn't, he reached for a glass of water and drank before answering. "It's over," he said simply.

"By that you mean it's over at the University of Northwest Idaho?"

"No," O'Toole said, shaking his head. "It's over at the college level, and probably high school, everywhere."

"How do you know that?"

"I've made some calls regarding open positions at other colleges and universities."

"And what's been the response?"

"In at least three circumstances, the athletic directors have said they would like to hire me, but they can't," O'Toole replied.

"They can't?"

O'Toole shook his head again. "They'd never get it past the administration at their schools… I'm the guy who gave recruits alcohol and paid for strippers and sex. I'm damaged goods. The press would tear them apart."

"Have you explained that you're innocent of the charges?"

"Yes, and I think they believe me," O'Toole replied. "But it doesn't matter. I'm a pariah. The publication of the charges against me contemporaneous with my firing has ended my coaching career."

Meyers had intended to ask a few more questions but could tell that his friend was on the verge of breaking down, so he decided to quit. "Thank you, Coach O'Toole," he said, and turned to Zusskin. "Your witness."

Zusskin began his cross-examination of O'Toole by asking if there was a reason Rufus Porter might have wanted to "do anything to get more playing time."

O'Toole shrugged. "I'm sure all athletes want to impress their coaches."

"Was his playing time diminishing?"

"Yes," O'Toole acknowledged. "There are better players on the team."

A loud snort from the spectator section momentarily stopped the proceedings. All eyes focused on a large man in the second row behind the defense table. But with Judge Allen staring at him, Big John Porter made no other sounds.

Zusskin turned back to O'Toole. "It's my understanding that after a final meeting, you essentially just sort of turned the recruits over to your players and you had no way of knowing what happened after that, am I correct?"

"Well, yes. I trusted my players to follow my rules."

"Which included handing the responsibility of watching out for these teenagers to young men not much older than they were?"

"Yes."

"Mr. O'Toole, we've heard a lot about how easy it is to use your office. Would you say there's a lot of privacy in the office?"

"No, not really," O'Toole replied. "There's often quite a bit of activity."

"So it might be difficult for someone to use your office and privately place a call to an escort service, pay for it with a credit card taken from a drawer in your desk, and then call in an order of booze and also pay for that?"

O'Toole shook his head. "Well, not really. They'd just have to pick a time when no one was around. Like during practice there are usually not many other people there."

"I see," Zusskin replied in a manner meant to imply that he did not see at all and neither should the jury.

Zusskin ended his cross-examination by showing O'Toole the contract he'd signed with the university. "Does this contract state that you agree to abide by the rules, regulations, and decisions of the American Collegiate Athletic Association?"

"Yes."

"And would that include the decision reached by the ACAA hearing panel following its procedures?"

"I guess."

"You guess? Is there another possible answer?"

"No. I meant that I guess that would include the decision reached by the ACAA panel."

"Was this a valid contract when you were asked to appear before the ACAA panel?"

"Yes."

"One last question, Mr. O'Toole. I just want to make sure we're clear about this. You were given the opportunity to make a statement in your defense at the ACAA hearing?"

O'Toole nodded. "Yes, but-"

"I didn't ask for an explanation," Zusskin interrupted. "The universe is full of justifications. Just a simple yes or no."

"Yes."

When Zusskin sat down, Karp and Meyers conferred for a moment before the young attorney rose for redirect.

"Coach O'Toole," Meyers said, emphasizing O'Toole's title, which he'd noticed Zusskin had purposefully avoided, "did you think that signing that contract superseded your constitutional rights as an American citizen?"

"No, I did not," O'Toole replied.

"And I think you were about to add to your answer to Mr. Zusskin's question about whether you were allowed to give a statement to the hearing panel."

"Yes."

"Would you elaborate now, please."

"I was allowed to give a brief statement, essentially denying these accusations. But I wasn't-or you weren't, as my attorney-allowed to cross-examine Rufus Porter, or the ACAA investigator, Jim Larkin, or anyone who spoke against me and we weren't permitted to call any witnesses on my behalf, in my defense."

"One last question. Coach O'Toole, is it accurate to say that you were prepared to abide by the rules, as Mr. Zusskin asked you, as long as they were administered in a fair, impartial, and honest fashion?"

"Yes, that would be accurate."

"Thank you, Coach O'Toole, that's it from me," Meyers said, and looked at Zusskin, who didn't bother to look up from his notes when he replied, "No further questions."

The opening statements and O'Toole's testimony had taken the trial up to the noon hour, when Judge Allen called for a lunch break. When court resumed, Karp called the baseball players Clancy Len and Tashaun Willis as character witnesses, although technically the purpose was to ask them if they had any knowledge of Coach O'Toole sponsoring or paying for parties "at which alcohol is served to underage players and strippers are present."

Both young men had replied in the negative. Even at team parties at the coach's house, players were allowed to drink beer only if they were twenty-one or older "and we have to give him our car keys." Although not said in so many words, the love and the respect both young men had for their coach was unmistakable.

Of more importance, however, Karp thought was the testimony of two athletic directors from other colleges and universities who, as O'Toole had indicated, testified under Meyers's questioning that they would have loved to hire him.

"In fact, we were preparing an offer after baseball season last spring to try to lure Coach O'Toole from the University of Northwest Idaho to come coach for us," said David Huff, the athletic director of a Division I university known for its baseball teams. "When all of this came out, I was prepared to go to bat for him with my administration and the Board of Regents. I hoped we might even go to the ACAA and get the suspension lifted, maybe with probation. But the administration felt it would be a public relations disaster, and I wasn't allowed to offer him the job."

"Did you end up hiring another coach for the position?" Karp asked.

"Yes," Huff answered, and then surprised him by turning to O'Toole. "Sorry, Mikey," he added. "You know who my choice would have been."

After the athletic directors, Karp called Steele Dalton to the stand. When the young man was situated, Karp handed him a copy of the partial transcript that had been presented to the ACAA panel. After giving the young man a minute to read the transcript, he asked, "Would you say that is a complete record of your conversation with Mr. Larkin?"

"Hell, no," Dalton answered. "A lot of stuff got left out."

"What do you mean by that?" Karp asked.

"I was pretty nervous when the ACAA investigator guy was asking me the questions," Dalton said. "So I was just sort of going, like, 'uh-huh' because I wasn't sure what he wanted."

"Was there any particular reason you were nervous?" Karp asked as if this were the first he'd heard of the claim.

"Well, yeah," Dalton replied, pointing to where Larkin was examining his fingernails at the defense table. "He's a big guy and the ACAA can mess you up as a player if you get on their bad side. Even before he turned on the tape recorder, he sort of got in my face and said I'd be in a lot of trouble if I lied to protect Coach O'Toole. He said he knew for sure that Coach O'Toole knew about the party and had paid for it. He also said that the underage drinking and sex stuff might hurt my eligibility if I didn't cooperate with the ACAA."

"And this was not recorded?"

"No, it was not," Dalton replied. "Only after he said all that stuff did he turn on the recorder and that's when I just sort of said whatever would get me out of there. But even then we had to stop and start over when he didn't like the way I said my answers."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, for instance, he asked me if Coach O'Toole had approved of the party," Dalton answered. "I told him the truth and that was that. When Rufus showed up at the dormitory, Rufus told me that Coach O'Toole sent him to take me and Mike Mason to a party for 'special' recruits."

"What was Mr. Larkin's reaction?"

"I could tell he didn't like it," Dalton replied. "Then he asked me if I was aware that Coach O'Toole had paid for the alcohol and strippers."

"And what did you reply?"

"Again, I said, 'That's what Rufus told me,' I had no way of knowing that myself," he said. "Coach O'Toole never said any of that to my face."

"What did Coach O'Toole tell you and the other recruits?" Karp asked.

"At the end of the day, he thanked us for coming," Dalton said, "and said he hoped that we'd consider the University of Northwest Idaho. He then sent us to dinner with the team but said we had to be back in the dormitory, lights out, by ten p.m."

"Nothing about a party?"

"Nope. Mike and I only heard about the party when we got back to the dorm. A little after bed check, Rufus came by and told us about the 'special party' because Coach O'Toole wanted to impress us. It sounded like fun so we snuck out."

"And you told all of this to Mr. Larkin?"

"Well, as much as he would let me," Dalton replied. "He turned off the tape recorder and told me that I was lying. He said that if I didn't start telling the truth, he would personally see that I lost my scholarship and he'd make sure the story about the party and the strippers got in my hometown newspaper so that my parents and all my friends would see it…"

"Was there something you were ashamed of?"

"Well, Rufus said that Coach O'Toole had paid the strippers to give us oral sex and, well, that's what happened," Dalton replied, turning red and keeping his eyes averted from the jury.

"So did he turn the tape recorder back on after that?" Karp asked.

"Yes," the young man said, and held up the abbreviated transcript. "That's what this is. I was scared and just decided that I would just agree with whatever he asked and get the hell out of there."

"Now, Mr. Dalton, according to the transcript provided to the ACAA panel, you agreed with Mr. Larkin's statements that Coach O'Toole asked you not to cooperate with the ACAA investigation and that if questioned, you were supposed to lie. Is that true?"

"What? That I agreed with Mr. Larkin or that Coach O'Toole asked me not to cooperate and to lie?" Dalton asked.

Karp smiled. "Thank you for pointing out for the jury that after more than a quarter of a century, I still don't know how to separate my questions. I suggest you consider a career in law," he said as a ripple of laughter went around the courtroom. "Let's start with whether you agreed with Mr. Larkin's statements that Coach O'Toole told you not to cooperate and to lie."

"Well, first I told him that it wasn't true," Dalton said. "In fact, I called Coach O'Toole after Mr. Larkin contacted me and said he was flying out to interview me about the party and accusation against the coach."

"And did Coach O'Toole tell you not to cooperate and to lie?"

"No, just the opposite," Dalton said. "He said that he had nothing to hide and that I should answer Mr. Larkin's questions truthfully."

"And you did that?"

"I tried," Dalton said. "But Mr. Larkin kept accusing me of trying to protect Coach O'Toole. He said he was going to send a full report of what occurred at the party to my mom."

"Sounds like a schoolyard bully. Have you since told your parents about what happened?" Karp asked before Zusskin could react to the first statement.

"Yes," Dalton replied.

"And what was their response?"

Dalton took a deep breath and let it out. "They were pretty unhappy. That's not the way I was raised. I guess I was just trying to be a big man on campus."

"Did they blame Coach O'Toole?"

"At first," Dalton said. "They thought that there should have been more supervision. But after they heard the truth, they realized that it wasn't Coach O'Toole's fault. I was a man now, and I had to take responsibility for my actions."

"Were there any parental repercussions?"

Dalton nodded. "Yeah, they took my car away and grounded me for the summer." Again, laughter swirled around the courtroom.

"Your witness," Karp said with a smile, and turned to Zusskin.

The attorney approached the stand holding up the abbreviated transcript like Moses holding up the stone tablets. "Mr. Dalton, did you or did you not give these answers to the questions put to you by Mr. Larkin?"

"I did, but-"

"I'm not asking 'but,'" Zusskin interrupted. "You just got done telling us that you're a man now and had to take responsibility for your actions, which means answering my question yes or no. You have a copy of the transcript. Did you give these answers to Mr. Larkin?"

"Yes, sir."

"All right," Zusskin said. "I believe that the bailiff has already distributed copies of the transcript, so let's all read along, shall we? I direct the panel's eyes to line three of the first page."

"Do you mean line three of the page numbered seven?" Karp asked innocently.

"Yes, Mr. Karp," Zusskin replied. "I'll read the part of Investigator Larkin, who asked, 'Was Coach Mikey O'Toole aware that you were going to a party that other recruits were not invited to?' And your reply was?"

Dalton looked at the transcript and recited his line. "I said, 'Uh-huh.'"

"Good," Zusskin said. "Then Larkin asked, 'Did Coach O'Toole pay for the beer and entertainment, including sex with prostitutes, at this party?' And you answered?"

"'Uh-huh.'"

Zusskin turned to the next page. "This is a bit later in the interview…"

"Objection," Karp said. "The middle portion of the interview is not here, so Mr. Zusskin is only reading what he wants and out of context."

Zusskin looked at the judge. "Your Honor, Mr. Karp is aware that this was all discussed at a pretrial hearing and knows full well that you have admitted this transcript-the transcript used by the ACAA hearing panel to render its decision, I might add."

"Overruled," Allen said without further comment.

Zusskin nodded and looked back down at the transcript. "The jury will note the following sequence beginning at line thirteen, where Larkin asked, 'Did Coach O'Toole tell you not to cooperate with this investigation?' Your answer, Mr. Dalton?"

"He said I didn't have to…"

"Then Larkin asked, 'Were you, in fact, told to lie if someone asked you questions about this case?' Your reply?"

"'Uh-huh.'"

Zusskin closed the transcript. "Mr. Dalton, you told the jury that Mr. Larkin threatened you and that you gave other answers, but there is no record of that, am I right?"

"Well, he recorded some of it," Dalton replied. "So I don't know what happened to it."

"And we have your word on that?"

"Yes."

"But we also have these affirmative answers to Mr. Larkin's questions?"

"Yes."

"And we also know that you are a young man who by his own admission snuck out of a dormitory, illegally consumed alcohol, and-excuse the expression, ladies and gentlemen of the jury-got a blow job from a hooker?"

Dalton nodded. "Yes, I did all those things," he said.

"So now we're supposed to believe a young man who would do those things?"

"It's the truth."

"Which truth, Mr. Dalton? The real truth or what you made up for Mr. Karp-"

"Objection," Karp said. "Counsel knows better than that."

"Sustained," Allen said. "Mr. Zusskin, please rephrase your question."

"Yes, Your Honor," Zusskin replied. "So which truth are we to believe, Mr. Dalton, what you told plaintiff's investigator a couple of weeks ago, or when you were questioned by Mr. Larkin several months ago?"

"I guess now," Dalton replied.

"You guess?"

"Well, yeah, only the stuff that makes Coach O'Toole look bad is on here," Dalton said, thumbing through the transcript.

Karp then kept the redirect short and sweet. "Mr. Dalton, did Coach O'Toole to your knowledge ever tell you that he was aware of this party, or that he arranged for alcohol or strippers?"

"No."

"Did he ask you to lie or not cooperate with the ACAA investigation?"

"No."

"How would you describe Coach O'Toole?"

Dalton shrugged. "He was great. I mean, he told us that if we joined the team, he expected us to work hard, follow the rules, and get good grades or we wouldn't play. But he also seemed fair and like we'd be judged on our ability and work ethic."

"Why didn't you end up signing at the University of Northwest Idaho?"

"Because of all the stuff that happened after this came out," Dalton said. He carefully picked his next words, as he'd been instructed at a pretrial hearing not to mention the rape charges against Rufus Porter. "It looked like Coach O'Toole wouldn't be there anymore. And to be honest, I thought that Rufus Porter was an ass and I didn't want to be on the same team with a guy like that."

"Why, you little…"

Karp and the rest of the courtroom turned to see Big John Porter fuming in his seat. He looked like he was about to say something else, but Clyde Barnhill, who was sitting next to him, put a hand on his shoulder and whispered something. Big John closed his mouth and glared at Dalton.

"Spectators will refrain from making comments, or they will be removed from this courtroom," Allen said. "Am I understood?"

Porter nodded but continued to glare at Dalton. When Dalton was dismissed, Big John began to rise to follow him. However, Fulton saw what was happening and got up to escort the young man. The big detective hesitated at the end of the pew with his eyes on Porter, who swallowed hard and sat down.

"Is there a problem?" Judge Allen asked, looking at the two large men.

Fulton turned to the judge and shook his head. "No, sir. No problem here."