“Yes,” Krista replied, her eyes glittering as she looked at Quinn with utter loathing etched upon her face. “He cut them into little pieces, then buried them alive. And I get to live with that memory in my head for the rest of my life. Fuck you!” she screamed at Quinn, whose face was ashen. “Fuck you to hell for all eternity!”
“Miss Hill, would you like to take a break?” Judge Crenshaw asked.
“No, no,” Krista replied. “I-I’m sorry, but I’m just so angry!”
“Your Honor, I object to all of these histrionics,” Mr. Jordan said.
“Objection overruled,” Judge Crenshaw said firmly.
“What happened after that, Miss Hill?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“We went to The Gambia in Sheikh Hakeem’s jet and hung out on the beach for a couple of weeks, then came here,” Krista replied.
“Thank you, Miss Hill,” Mr. Smithers said. “No further questions at this time, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Jordan, any questions for this witness?” Judge Crenshaw asked.
“Not at this time, Your Honor,” Mr. Jordan replied.
“Mr. Smithers, any further witnesses?” Judge Crenshaw asked.
“I would like to call FBI Special Agent Liam O’Shea to testify, Your Honor,” Mr. Smithers replied.
“Is Agent O’Shea here?” Judge Crenshaw asked.
“I am Agent O’Shea, Your Honor,” Liam said from the back of the room, standing up.
“Please come forward, Agent O’Shea, take a seat and be sworn,” Judge Crenshaw said.
“Agent O’Shea,” Mr. Smithers asked after he had been sworn in, “how do you happen to be associated with the matters at issue here today?”
“The FBI, along with many other law enforcement agencies around the world, have been quietly searching for Mrs. Susan Kumms ever since we learned of the death of her husband and her sudden disappearance,” Liam replied. “When we were contacted by her party just a week ago, we agreed to take them into protective custody and deposed them, videotaping their statements as to what they had been through the previous three months. Based upon what they told us, and corroborating as much of it as possible, we were able to obtain search and wiretap warrants against Mr. Quinn Kumms.”
“Your Honor, I object,” Mr. Jordan said, his head spinning as his world crashed and burned all around him.
“To what, Mr. Jordan?” Judge Crenshaw asked.
“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” Mr. Jordan said. “Withdrawn.”
“I should think so,” Judge Crenshaw said. “Please continue, Agent O’Shea.”
“Among the items discovered and seized during the execution of these warrants were Mr. Kumms’ MacBook Pro laptop computer and his iPhone,” Liam continued. “The Mac address of the MacBook Pro laptop computer was consistent with the Mac address of the computer that executed the hack of the Kumms’ private server.”
“Agent O’Shea, at issue here is a concept known as moral turpitude,” Mr. Smithers said. “Are you familiar with this concept?”
“I am,” Liam replied. “It generally refers to an act or behavior that gravely violates the sentiment or accepted standard of the community.”
“That is correct,” Mr. Smithers said, smiling. “In the course of analyzing the fruits of your warrants and wiretaps, did you come upon anything that would fit the parameters of moral turpitude?”
“Your Honor, I object,” Mr. Jordan protested. “This is turning into a fishing expedition.”
“I believe that it goes to the heart of the matter,” Mr. Smithers said. “I wouldn’t be asking the question if I didn’t know that the answer would support its being asked.”
“Objection overruled,” Judge Crenshaw said.
“Agent O’Shea?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“Our surveillance of Mr. Kumms showed that he went to Romantix, an adult video store and arcade, near the Denver Zoo and Capitol Hill,” Agent O’Shea replied.
Krista saw Quinn blanch, and glancing at Susan, saw a tight smile on her face.
“Further investigation turned up the fact that one of the features of Romantix are three booths in the back of the store. These booths are used for anonymous sex via a hole in the wall between the booths,” Agent O’Shea explained. “We observed that Mr. Kumms entered one of these booths at approximately 5:30 in the afternoon and he did not exit until 6:30. We asked for and received a subsequent warrant and had the booths audio/visually monitored, which was made much easier because of an existing system that the management had in place.”
“And what did this reveal with respect to Mr. Kumms?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“Mr. Quinn engaged in giving oral sex to anonymous men, between four and sex men on each observed occasion,” Agent O’Shea replied, glancing over at Quinn and seeing face flushed crimson. “He further engaged in receiving anal sex from one to two men on each observed occasion.”
“Your Honor, this is deplorable,” Mr. Jordan said. “It is not against the law to be gay in our society today. It certainly doesn’t imply any sort of moral turpitude.”
“I am not gay!” Quinn shouted, slapping the table and standing up, his whole body quivering with rage. “She’s the whore, her and my pervert father.”
“I agree with Mr. Jordan that your sexuality is not at issue in this proceeding,” Judge Crenshaw said.
“I am not gay!” Quinn shouted, his face beet red. “She was always fucking a bunch of niggers and my father watched. Ask her! Ask her!” he screamed hysterically.
“Mr. Kumms, you will sit down, sir,” Judge Crenshaw insisted. “Mr. Jordan, control your client or I will have him expelled. Mr. Smithers, you may continue.”
“Your Honor, I would like to briefly recall Mrs. Kumms to testify,” Mr. Smithers said.
“Mrs. Kumms, I remind you that you are still under oath,” Judge Crenshaw said. “You may proceed, Mr. Smithers.”
“Mrs. Kumms, did you or your husband ever suspect that your son might be gay?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“We’d suspected it by the time he was 10 years old,” Susan replied. “It broke our hearts, but then we told ourselves that the only thing that we wanted for him was his happiness, and that if that’s how he found it, then we would support him wholeheartedly.”
“Anything in particular that made you think that he was gay?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“He never took an interest in sports, or girls, which is strange for a boy,” Susan said. “They might not be interested in them, but they certainly dislike them. Quinn just ignored them altogether. And then, like his father, he was born with a very small penis.”
“You cunt!” Quinn screamed in rage and shame, knocking his chair over backwards as he jumped to his feet. “You fucking cunt!”
“Mr. Quinn!” Judge Crenshaw thundered. “One more outburst like that and I will have you removed and remanded for verbal assault. Do I make myself clear, sir?”
“I’d say that that qualifies as behavior that gravely violates the sentiment or accepted standard of the community,” Mr. Smithers said as Mr. Jordan tried to get Quinn back into his seat.
“Your Honor, may I have a 10-minute recess, please?” Mr. Jordan asked.
“This hearing adjourned for 10 minutes,” Judge Crenshaw said, getting to his feet.
“Susan, if I were Brad Jordan, I’d find out what Quinn meant with his accusations against you,” Mr. Smithers said. “Then if he felt he had anything that might level the scales somewhat…”
“I’m perfectly prepared to discuss it, Gerard,” Susan said, some color in her cheeks. “I refuse to be ashamed of who I am or who David was.”
“Then there is something to his accusations?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“There is,” Susan replied evenly. “Don’t worry about it, Gerard. I’ll deal with it.”
“Mr. Jordan, is your client ready to proceed?” Judge Crenshaw asked when they reconvened.
“His is, Your Honor,” Mr. Jordan replied.
“Mr. Smithers, would you like to continue?” Judge Crenshaw asked.