Sean Combs Trial Live Updates: ‘Freak-offs' and Violence Are Dissected by the Defense

New York Times

9 hours ago

Sean Combs in 2018. He has been largely outside public view during his federal trial, captured only by the sketches of courtroom artists.
He has shaken his head and fidgeted in his seat during testimony, passed notes to his lawyers and blown kisses to his mother in the courtroom gallery. Sometimes Sean Combs has pulled out chairs for the women on his legal team. He brought a self-help book to court during the prosecution's closing argument.
His federal trial has drawn worldwide attention, with minute-by-minute coverage from the press and social media influencers who broadcast live updates from the street outside U.S. District Court in Lower Manhattan.
But since federal courts bar cameras, Mr. Combs's demeanor during perhaps them most critical time of his life — Does he smile? Does he seem mad, nervous, sad? — has been largely outside public view, captured only by the sketches of courtroom artists.
Over a seven-week trial, Mr. Combs, who is facing sex-trafficking and racketeering conspiracy charges that could put him in prison for the rest of his life, has been an attentive and largely easygoing presence in the courtroom. His expressions of disagreement with witnesses have been subdued, showing no inkling of the volcanic, violent temper often described in testimony.
When George Kaplan, a former assistant, described the pace of working for Mr. Combs as 'almost like drinking from a fire hose,' the mogul nodded in approval. When another assistant, using the pseudonym Mia, said she would be punished if she did not do 'everything that he told me to do,' he just scoffed and shook his head.
It has been an understated posture for a man whose profile as a chart-topping producer, rapper, reality-TV star and gossip-page fixture was larger than life.
Mr. Combs has pleaded not guilty to the charges, and his lawyers have strongly denied the central allegations of the case, that he coerced at least two women into drug-fueled sex marathons with male prostitutes and used bodyguards and other employees as part of a 'criminal enterprise' to facilitate and cover up the abuse.
On most trial days, Mr. Combs, 55, arrived in the morning from the Brooklyn detention facility where he has been held since his arrest in September. Officers from the U.S. Marshals Service brought him into the courtroom between 8:30 and 9 a.m., and he often hugged a few of his nine lawyers and gazed at the attendees in the hushed, high-ceilinged room.
His mother, sister and three adult sons were frequently, though not always, in attendance. They often sat in benches near the front of the court gallery and Mr. Combs smiled at them from the defense table, at times flashing heart signs with his hands.
Without access to dye, Mr. Combs's hair has been turning ashen white. He wears not the designer suits and Sean John-branded street gear familiar to his fans but a rotating wardrobe of five sweaters, five button-down shirts, five pairs of pants, socks and two pairs of shoes without laces.
At times during the trial, Mr. Combs has made eye contact with jurors. Once, while lawyers were conferring with the judge, Mr. Combs rubbed his hands together to keep warm in the chilly courtroom. Then he looked to his right to see a male juror rubbing his arms. 'Cold,' Mr. Combs mouthed with a grin; the juror nodded and smiled.
At one point, judge in the case admonished Mr. Combs after he said he saw the mogul nodding at jurors.
'I saw your client looking at the jury and nodding vigorously,' Judge Arun Subramanian told Mr. Combs lawyers out of the presence of the jury. 'That is absolutely unacceptable.'
Mr. Combs's lawyers told the judge it would not happen again.
Charlucci Finney, who has worked in the music industry for decades and calls himself Mr. Combs's 'godbrother,' has attended the trial every day, often arriving at the same time as members of Mr. Combs's family. He can be seen speaking to Mr. Combs on breaks, and she fully endorsed the notion that Mr. Combs has been actively engaged in his defense.
'He's always been a C.E.O.,' Mr. Finney said in a phone interview. 'He's a C.E.O. of his case as well.'