“I have a video!” Samantha hissed.

“What?” Russell asked bluntly.

“You should sit down, agápi mou,” I said softly.

“You really need to see this video!” Samantha whispered. “It’s on my phone.” She held it over the low railing between the observer’s benches and the floor of the courtroom proper. She gave a little wave to my grandfather and smiled at him.

“Young lady, court is in session,” Russell warned. “You keep talking, and the judge is liable to cite you for contempt of court. I suggest you return to your seat and behave yourself or I will have you escorted out of here myself.”

“This is important!” Samantha pleaded. “Tell him, Christos!”

“Do you know this miscreant?” Russell asked me sharply, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I sort of do.”

Samantha slapped my shoulder and frowned at me. “Sort of?”

I repressed a chuckle. “Russell, meet Samantha Smith. She’s my girlfriend.”

Russell raised his eyebrows. “Pleased to meet you, Samantha,” he said politely. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in the middle of a trial. I’m trying to keep your boyfriend out of the slammer. Unless you have a very good reason for interrupting, I suggest you sit down immediately and keep quiet.”

“But I have video of what happened!” Samantha pleaded.

“What are you talking about?” Russell asked, perplexed.

“Mr. Merriweather,” Judge Moody interrupted, “do we have a problem?”

Russell smiled at the judge. “No, your honor, not at all. May we have a moment?”

“Make it quick, Mr. Merriweather,” Judge Moody ordered.

“I have video of him!” Samantha hissed.

“Of who?” I asked.

“I found a video online of you punching that guy sitting right over there!” She pointed at Horst Grossman who sat on the far side of the witness gallery, behind the prosecutor’s table.

Both of Russell’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “Come again?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I said, “Samantha, are you serious?”

She nodded. “Yes!”

Judge Geraldine fired a stern look at the three of us. “Any time, Mr. Merriweather.”

“One moment, your honor,” Russell said. “I may have just received information that bears on this case.”

“May have or have?” the judged asked impatiently.

“If you would kindly give me a moment, your honor, I will let you know.”

“Do I need to call another recess five minutes after the last one?”

“No, your honor. This will only take a moment.”

“You have two minutes, counselor.”

Russell turned to Samantha. “Do you have the video on your phone?”

“Yes.”

“Is it ready to play?”

“Yes.”

“May I see it?”

Samantha handed the phone to Russell.

I leaned over his shoulder and he pressed play.

The video was amazingly clear. You could see Horst Grossman’s face clearly as he shouted and screamed at Samantha in her VW. You could even see Samantha’s face inside her car, and me when I walked up in my helmet, before and after Grossman lunged and I punched. Whoever shot it must have been planning on studying cinematography at USC film school. The audio was a bit choppy, but you could hear most of what Horst Grossman said.

Russell glanced between Samantha and the phone. “Is that you?” he asked, pointing at the tiny image of Samantha in her VW.

She nodded.

In a low voice, Russell said, “Christos, you’re lucky we’re in court. Otherwise I’d smack you upside the head. Then I’d turn you around and smack you up the other side. Why didn’t you tell me your girlfriend was the girl in the car? Are you crazy? No, don’t answer that. Because I know you’re crazy.” He turned to Samantha. “Where did you find this video?”

“On somebody’s blog. It’s not even a Youtube video. It was on Vimeo.”

“We checked the road rage videos,” Russell said, confused, “and we checked Vimeo. And Youtube. And everywhere else. Several times. We couldn’t find anything.”

“I think whoever uploaded just posted it. See, the upload date is two days ago and it only has a few hundred hits. It took me all night to find it because of how it was labelled.”

“You’re quite the private investigator,” Russell said. “What was your name again?”

“Samantha Smith.”

“Thank you, Ms. Smith. I think you just saved your boyfriend’s ass.” Russell smiled. “Would you have any objection to going up on the witness stand to testify in Christos’ defense?”

“Me?” she gasped.

“Yes, you. If the judge will allow it, we can keep Christos off the stand.”

“Of course! I’ll totally do it!” she said.

“Do me a favor,” Russell said, “email the URL of that website to my assistant.” He nodded toward Brianna and said, “Ms. Smith, this is Brianna Johnson.”

Brianna and Samantha shook hands then Samantha fired off the email to her.

“Got it,” Brianna said a few seconds later. I watched her pull the video up on her laptop. It turned out the courthouse had great wi-fi service.

Russell stood up, faced the judge, and in his most charming, winning voice, said, “Your honor, may counsel approach the bench?”

“This better be good, Mr. Merriweather.”

George Schlosser and his team were staring at us openly. They had no idea what was about to hit them.

“I think you’re going to be amused, your honor,” Russell said thoughtfully. “I certainly am.”

“You may approach, counselors,” the judge said.

Russell, Brianna, George Schlosser, and his two assistants walked up to Geraldine Moody’s bench.

In a soft voice I could barely hear, Russell explained everything to the judge. He pointed at Samantha several times. When he did, Schlosser and his team gave Samantha dirty looks.

Brianna set her laptop on the corner of the judge’s bench so that the judge could view the video. Schlosser and his team had to crane over to see the screen when Brianna played the video.

At first, Judge Moody was bored, but as the video unrolled, she became entranced and literally leaned forward on the edge of her seat. When the video finished, she said, “Can I see that again?”

“Certainly, your honor,” Russell said. “Brianna, please play it again.”

Brianna nodded and reset the video.

After the second viewing, Schlosser growled, “This is preposterous, your honor. There’s no way you can allow this into evidence. I need time to verify that the woman in this video is the one standing over there.”

“It looks like the same young woman to me,” Judge Moody said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“That may very well be,” Schlosser huffed, “but if it turns out she is the woman in the video, I still need time to depose her properly. I have no idea what her testimony might be.”

“Neither do I,” Russell said.

Schlosser scoffed at him, then turned to Judge Moody and said, “Your honor, freshman tactics like these aren’t fit for this courtroom,” he said it like Russell was a known liar, “I suggest we leave them in trashy novels and circus tents where they belong.”

“I’ll decide what flies in my own courtroom, Mr. Schlosser,” the judge said in a parental tone. “Mr. Merriweather, have you had an opportunity to interview this surprise witness of yours?” Judge Moody asked.

“No, I have not, your honor,” Russell said. “I wasn’t aware of her existence until she stepped into this courtroom today.”

The judge raised a skeptical eyebrow at Russell.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her.

Schlosser rolled his eyes at both of them.

“I’ll allow it,” Judge Moody said.

“But—” Schlosser interjected.

The judge cut him off. “Mr. Schlosser, you’ve been doing this long enough. Improvise. In light of this video, you’re lucky I don’t dismiss this case on the spot. Would you like me to do that?”

Schlosser smiled endearingly, “Your honor, I—”

“Yes or no, counselor,” the judge said.

Schlosser huffed a hard sigh. “As you wish, your honor.”

“Excellent. Mr. Merriweather, please see that Mr. Schlosser gets the link to this video. We’ll take a one hour recess, during which time both your teams can review the video in depth and formulate your arguments.” She banged her gavel. “Court is in recess for one hour.”

* * *

Samantha’s testimony and the amazing video footage turned the trial on its head.

Russell played the video on the big projection screen while Samantha was on the witness stand. He paused the video intermittently to ask her questions to help clarify details of what was happening.

I watched with a minimal grin on my face while the moments before I’d gotten off my bike for the first time unwound on the screen. I did my best not to look smug in front of the jury. It was damn hard.

The video had close ups on Grossman’s face as he shouted at Samantha and tried to pry her car window down. He looked like a raging lunatic. The jury watched in stark, wide-eyed amazement as Grossman frothed at the mouth in the video and turned beet red while he called Samantha a bitch, a slut, a whore, and a pinhead. One of the female jurors giggled in disbelief when Grossman kicked the door of Samantha’s VW.

The knock out punch, both literally and figuratively, came when Grossman lunged at me in the video. I had been standing calmly in front of him. Everyone in the courtroom could clearly see that Grossman had tried to tackle me before I’d side stepped out of his way and punched him.

I glanced over and saw Deputy District Attorney George Schlosser running a hand through his hair. He looked defeated, like he’d just been punched.