Outside the Special Proceedings Courtroom, on the last landing going down the steps to the atrium, the defendants and their entourage of attorneys gather at the bank of microphones set up for just this occasion, surrounded by media a few feet below them. Every once in a while, Sarah can hear a snippet or two: “You'll get our side this afternoon.... No comments now.... Ludicrous.… Unbelievable...” They don’t stay long, though, and are soon replaced by Benjamin Messick, clearly less comfortable there than in front of a jury. But Messick obviously knew that meeting the media like this was not only inevitable but necessary, and he came with a prepared statement, which he is reading.
“…very glad this trial has started. We’ve all waited a long time. It has taken thirty years to find a way to bring out the truth of AIDS. What you will hear in this courtroom in the next few weeks is probably going to shock you – the breadth and depth of the lies that have been told, and the lives that have been destroyed as a result. I look forward to this opportunity...”
A female voice interrupts him, “Is it true your best friend died of AIDS in 1994?”
Messick is obviously caught off guard. How the hell did they find out…what has that got to do with… “That's all,” he answers and quickly makes his way through the crowd to the exit, waving off the dozens of different questions being asked – more accurately, shouted at him simultaneously.