Witness-Box Massacre Not a Pretty Sight

The Thomas Gionis trial is off and winging.

The first thing we should check this morning is to see if district attorney investigator Robert Davis threw himself off any tall buildings last night. Or was seen wandering around Skid Row muttering to himself, “What have I done! I had a career, I was going places!”

Davis had that kind of day on the witness stand Tuesday, carved up into a hundred tiny symmetrical squares by Gionis defense lawyer John D. Barnett. My dad used to do that kind of precision work with the Christmas ham.

Barnett should retire right now. He may never have a better day. He could make a million at defense lawyer seminars just showing a videotape of his cross-examination of Davis.

It’s a wonder that the judge and jury didn’t stand up and applaud when he was finished.

As for Davis, he should also retire, although he may not even have the choice once his boss reads the transcript of his testimony. At the very least, he should contemplate growing a beard and getting some dark glasses and checking on his unused sick leave or vacation time.

In short, the Davis-Barnett duel in Superior Court showed why real-life courtroom drama is often great theater.

To capsulize, Davis was assigned to a key bit of investigation in the case against Gionis, who is charged with ordering an attack on his ex-wife, Aissa Wayne--daughter of John Wayne--and her then-boyfriend, Roger Luby, in October of 1988. Prosecutors have said that a phone call to Gionis in his limousine on that October morning could link him to the assault.

However, after chauffeur Ray Ruiz testified Tuesday that Gionis wasn’t in the car that morning, it was left to Davis to rebut it. And, following Ruiz to the stand, Davis testified that Ruiz had indeed told him in a phone interview that Gionis was in the car that morning.

On cross-examination from Barnett, the fencing began. Barnett set out early to prove that Davis had neglected to ask Ruiz specifically whether Gionis was in the car that day, but that he later wrote a report saying that Ruiz had told him just that.

It went something like this:

Barnett: You want to help the prosecution, don’t you?

Davis: Yes.

B: You want to help the prosecution’s case so you lied about the most crucial piece of evidence in the investigation, isn’t that right?

D: No.

B: You were absolutely sure Ruiz said Dr. Gionis was in the car that morning?

D: Yes.

B: That question was never asked by you in the conversation, was it?

D: Yes, it was asked.

B: If you admit it just didn’t happen (the question getting asked), are you going to get in trouble?

D: Yes.

B: You haven’t told the truth, have you?

D: Yes, I have.

Having him now set up, Barnett first produced a transcript and then the actual tape recording of the conversation, of which Davis had been unaware. The tape was played for the jury after the lunchtime recess and it proved that Davis had not gotten the critical information from Ruiz.

“There must have been another phone call,” Davis said.

However, Barnett had closed that escape route earlier by getting Davis to say at least three times that he had only one conversation with Ruiz.

Barnett then led Davis through a painful (for Davis) discussion on how he had huddled over the lunch hour with prosecutor Christopher Evans and another high-ranking D.A.’s official to try to get his story back on track.

B: It looked like you had committed perjury. You knew that was how it looked, right?

D: Yes.

B: You went down to try to figure a way out of your testimony in the morning, right?

D: No.

B: You knew you had to change something, right?

D: Right.

Believe me, it got worse. Only a shortage of space and a sense of mercy prevents me from giving you more. It was high drama, if you happen to like bullfights or gladiatorial matches.

It ended with Davis still insisting that Ruiz had given him the crucial information and insisting that there must have been a second conversation--all the while acknowledging that he couldn’t remember one. “I know there had to be a second conversation,” Davis said.

By this time, Gionis was making no secret of his enjoyment. He looked once or twice into the audience and smiled. Prosecutor Evans could only sit there, no doubt wishing at that moment that he’d been an appliance salesman.

Davis showed remarkable composure. His voice seldom quavered, his hands remained clasped and his eyes followed Barnett around the courtroom as he continued fricasseeing him. Believe me, this is a guy who wouldn’t ask for a blindfold at his execution.

In short, excellent drama. As good as anything Matlock could dish up.

One day does not a trial make, nor a jury convince.

But for this one day, it had to be the best show in town.