Chapter 4: The Trial

"Case 323, Mrs. Samantha Lovell, accuser, against Mr. William Lovell, defendant—all raise for His Honor, Judge Samuel Harrison presiding."

Judge Harrison sat his ample bulk behind his desk and rapped the gravel. "Counselors for the accuser?" Pamela raised her hand. "For the defendant?" A distinguished man in his late fifties raised his hand.

Due to Melissa's press conference, the tribunal was packed with reporters. "Mr. Cohen himself..." murmured loudly a news-hen. Judge Harrison rapped the gravel. "Silence. Let's hear the accusation. By the way, where's Mrs. Lovell?"

Pamela raised. "Ms."—she stretched the word—"Samantha Lovell chose not to come today, Your Honor. In name of Ms. Samantha we charge her husband, Mr. William Lovell on three counts of battery, rape and sodomy all practiced on his wife. We will prove with no shadow of doubt all accusations aggravated by the difference in size between the accused and his victim and we will show the intent to kill or at least to maim her seriously without giving her any means of defense. At the end we will ask for the severest composed jail penalty and maintenance of this wife-beater in preventive custody as my constituent fears for her life."

The judge waited a few seconds to be sure that Pamela finished and asked, "And the defense position?"

Mr. Cohen raised and smiling easily said, "My constituent accepts unrestrictedly all charges as stated by in this court of law. He ordered his wife to do house chores, was openly challenged and verbally assaulted. He disciplined her on her bare buttocks with a leather belt until she decided to do her duty. He exercised his marital rights using her considerable charms both before she started to toil and after she finished. And yes, one of the carnal conjunctions that they used falls under the State classification of sodomy."

The noise in the court reached insupportable levels. Judge Harrison banged his gravel. "Silence! I'll evacuate the court!"

The babble receded and Mr. Cohen continued, "... saying all that, Your Honor, I ask for immediate dismissing of the accusations because of lack of cause. My client broke no laws of this or any other State of this Union."

After the order was re-established, which included severe reprimand to Ms. Pamela who got coarse from screaming, the judge addressed Mr. Cohen. "Can you explain your declarations, counselor?"

"Of course, Your Honor. Please accept those documents, defense exhibit one." He delivered a copy to the judge and another to Dolores. "For the court records it's a copy of the law 1287 of 1878 which regulates and defines wife-beating. It was never revoked. It states that moderate punishment with any implement on a person of a wife is a husband's right if she faults at the marriage contract which includes the derelict of wifely duties of taking care of children, making the house presentable, preparing meals and not denying her husband carnal rights, all falling under the "obey" portion of marriage contract—which as well is still valid in this and most States of the Union.

Pamela was whispering orders to Dolores when Judge Harrison asked, "moderate?"

"Yes your honor, we will broach that subject as well, if you permit me proceed?" The judge nodded his head and Mr. Cohen resumed: "second, rape. There's no possibility of "rape" on a marital bed, Your Honor. By the said law which still governs the marriage contract in all American States and never was revoked, a wife has the duty to obey her husband, and the law specifically declares that denying carnal access is a serious breach of the marriage contract even in the case of pregnancy, sickness and female course, when the husband should use his discretion on exercising his rights under those circumstances. By the way the law asks for the same caution when disciplining the wife—but once again allows for husband's discretion on the matter."

Dolores left the court to try getting help from her headquarters. Interested, the judge was examining the old documents. "Well, this will cause a lot of head-ache for jurisprudence," he commented to himself. "And sodomy, counselor? I believe that even if wife-beating was a husband's right, sodomy was considered a sin by our forefathers."

"Oh, yes, Your Honor. But for this, we have a much newer law. Two years ago the Supreme Court confirmed a California judgment and just three days ago the law was regulated by the Congress. In all United States there's no more a crime of sodomy between consenting adults. What happens between them in the privacy of their dwellings is no concern of the Government and its branches, one of which is the judiciary."

Judge Harrison looked concerned at the grey face of Ms. Pamela Wright who seemed to be chocking, decided that she would be OK and chuckled. "Well counselor, you still have to address the "moderate" and "consensual" bits of the complaint. Yes, Ms. Wright?"

Pamela was gesticulating with a folder trying to catch judge's eye. "I'll show him moderate!" she hissed. She opened the folder and separated one copy of the photos for the judge and another one for Mr. Cohen. Another set was already mysteriously distributed to the present reporters.

"Looks bad to me," noted calmly the Judge looking at the defense lawyer. "It certainly is stretching a lot the 'moderate' concept."

"Certainly, Your Honor. In my opinion on the evidence of those artistic photos, it was a most severe beating. The 'moderate' depends of course a lot of the punished party pain threshold, but let's avoid being technical. I suppose that my opponent would define those photos as evidence of a really severe and not at all moderate punishment."

"Of course! This is exactly the point. It was wife-beating at its worst! You came with an obsolete law..."

"Will you shut-up, counselor?" snapped the judge. "The law, obsolete or not is the law. Or do you consider our Constitution obsolete as well?"

"No, of course not, Your Honor." Pamela was retreating.

"But am I right, counselor, in my interpretation that you're accepting the charge of severe beating, and the guilt of your client?"

"Well, not exactly, Your Honor. Do you agree with me that a recipient of such a harsh beating would carry clear marks of it for weeks to come?"

"Yes," agreed the judge.

"No!" shouted Pamela understanding clearly what would happen next and deciding to brave it on the attack. "I won't stand for this travesty of justice! It doesn't matter if there're marks or not. She was beaten, raped and buggered by an insensible ape and you are discussing the size of the welts after two weeks time!"

"Counselor, you will behave yourself or I'll order your confinement," said coldly the judge. Pamela checked herself. She and her colleagues at WAU were already in enough trouble.

"And how do you propose to dispute this evidence?" asked the judge waving his copy of the photos.

"It is easy, your honor. I will ask you to allow bringing in Mrs. Samantha Lovell, presently under detention by county sheriff and brought here under the authority of the court."

Pamela shouted, "I object!"

"Overruled." Said the judge.

"I take exception!"

"So will be noted." Said the judge dryly. "Bring in the prisoner."

The door to the sheriff's quarters was opened and in come Sam. Her small person was flanked by two male officers, both much taller and larger. "Bring her to the stand," called the judge. Samantha was wearing a long dress, a kind of shapeless grey gown that was hiding her whole body from neck to ankles, including her arms. Only her pale face and big eyes were visible to the spectators.

"For the benefit of the Court please state your name, Mrs. Lovell."

"S-samantha L-lovell, Judge..."

"You'll address me as 'Your Honor' or 'Sir', Mrs. Lovell," said the Judge with a smile. "Swore her in," he directed the bailiff. After the legal details were attended to he asked the defense lawyer to proceed.

"Your honor," continued Mr. Cohen, "here is defense exhibit number two." He delivered a set of large photos to the judge who examined them in a cursory way, then frowned and looked carefully at each of the six photos. He asked Pamela to approach the bench and gave her the photos for examination looking at her intensely to see her reaction. Pamela throw them on back, her face red as a tomato. "False!" she almost chocked on the word.

"We will get to the bottom of this," the judge assured her calmly. "Mr. Cohen?"

"On the same day of her alleged battery, Ms. Samantha Lovell was put into protective custody as a material witness, Your Honor. Arriving to the Detention Centre she was submitted to the admission medical examination and those photos of her nude body were taken by medical personnel in front of six witnesses. Please note the date, the signature and the notary signature on all photos. First when she arrived, her bottom and thighs appeared severely bruised, but upon closer examination it was noted that the welts were fake, nothing that hot water and soap wouldn't remedy. The photos one to three are before and four to six are after a sponge bath."

After a new disorder subsided, the judge ordered Mr. Cohen to proceed.

"Could you direct the officers to take off Mrs. Lovell's gown?" asked Mr. Cohen. "She is naked underneath, so I'm sorry for Mrs. Lovell's modesty—Mr. Cohen didn't look sorry at all—but this is absolutely needed for the court to take a decision.

"I object!"

"Overruled."

"I won't accept your decision, mister! You and this kike shyster are in this together..."

"Shut-up!" Bellowed the judge, his face beet-red. "Sheriff, restrain and gag this woman and take her away. She is in contempt of this court! We won't hear her racial epithets in my court! Find her associate and drag her back forcibly if needed be."

Pamela wasn't subdued easily. It took three bailiffs to wrap her properly restraining her to her own chair and take her to the holding cell which to her dismay was already occupied by the former judge Lea Kaminski.

Up in the courtroom Ms. Dolores Rodriguez was brought back, informed of the detention of her boss and advised to behave or else. Sam was disrobed and the press and the judge tried without success to detect signs of violent beating on the bent over derriere of the pretty housewife.