Saving Justice

by Peter O'Mahoney

  “I’ve been thinking about kids a lot lately.” Esther said, after they’d been walking through the green space for twenty minutes.

  “Any kids in particular?”

  “Funny.” Esther smiled. “No, I’ve been thinking about whether I want kids.”

  “And the answer?”

  “I do.” Her voice was quiet. “And then I got around to thinking about kid’s birthday parties. Balloons are so weird. It’s like saying, ‘Hey, happy anniversary of your birth, here’s a plastic bag full of my hot breath.’”

  Hunter laughed. “That’s one way to look at it.”

  “Talking of family, I found out my grandfather is addicted to Viagra.”

  “Really?” Hunter took a sip from his water bottle.

  “Yeah. It’s sad news, but nobody is taking it harder than my grandmother.”

  Hunter spat out his drink, and turned away, shaking his head. “That’s terrible.”

  “You think that’s bad?” Esther grinned. “Well, my father was born a co-joined twin, but they separated them at birth, no problems. But it means I have an uncle, once removed.”

  Hunter chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped away from Esther. He walked for a while, a broad smile stretched across his face, before he stopped next to a small pond, leaning against the metal railing.

  “Family is a weird thing. It’s a bond you share, no matter what.” Hunter’s head dropped. “Natalie didn’t talk to us at all. She wanted to run away the second she saw us. She said we shouldn’t have come.”

  “She didn’t give you anything? No hints or clues?”

  “Nothing, and I’m not sure she’ll ever talk. Maybe she’ll talk after our father has passed away.” Hunter stared at the pond, lost in the calm reflection. “But what good is the truth then? Our father will have died in prison as an innocent man.”

  Hunter didn’t say another word as he walked outside into the sunshine. Esther waited until the anger had left his face before she started talking again. They continued to walk outside, and their conversation drifted onto many topics. The weather. The traffic. The news. Politics. Sport. Movies. Esther talked about her dreams of traveling to France and seeing the Eiffel Tower. She talked about how she studied the French language at school, and how she longed to taste the local cuisine. Hunter talked about his love of French wine, and they both laughed about the idea of eating snails.

  They stopped for a cold drink, sitting on a rock under the shade of a large Oak tree, and spent a quiet moment reflecting on life. They watched families walk past, happy and cheerful, and Esther felt a pang of jealousy. When the feeling became too much, she stood and lead them through the nearby gardens. Their conversation turned to gardening, before they joked about their city, but eventually, as always, their conversation drifted back to work.

  “You’re saying it looked like Vandenberg and Wolfe Family Law Offices have paid accusers before to make accusations against doctors?” Esther asked. “That’s insane. What else could they have done?”

  “Who knows? But Dr. Lighten’s case appears to be exactly the same set-up that’s been used for Dr. Mackie’s sexual assault case.” Hunter said. “Dr. Mackie’s wife, Sarah Mackie, is being represented by one of the junior lawyers at Vandenberg and Wolfe. A lawyer named Jake East, but I’m sure the case is big enough to have Joanne Wolfe or Michael Vandenberg look into it over his shoulder.”

  “So you think…” Esther ran her hand along the leaf of a large green plant. “I mean; you think that this doctor’s wife is trying to get him for a big settlement? Force him to sell the medical clinic so she can take the funds? That’s what all this is about?”

  “Legally, they can’t touch the medical clinic through the divorce, at the moment. Under Illinois law, even though the business is worth millions, because he started the business before the marriage, it can’t be included in the divorce settlement. But if he sold it, and took cash before the divorce is settled, then it’s part of the settlement. His ex-wife would get her hands on an extra few million dollars, and I have no doubt the firm would benefit financially as well.”

  “So the more she makes, the more they make.”

  “And here’s the thing. There’s someone we know who worked for Vandenberg and Wolfe Family Law Offices.”

  “Joe Fielding.” It clicked in Esther’s head.

  “Exactly.”

  “If it worked the first time,” Esther added, “then they’ve repeated what they did in Wisconsin. Contact King, ask him if he’d like to buy the business, and then add pressure to the sale.”

  “It’s a simple set up.” Hunter drew a long breath as they walked through the exit of the gardens. “It means they all walk away winners. But this time, it looks like they planted the accuser.”

  “So I guess we’ve got to expose it in the trial?” Esther said as they approached the parking lot. “That’s going to be hard to prove.”

  “It is.” Hunter said as he stood near Esther’s car. His car was in the other direction. “Esther.” Hunter drew a deep breath. “Would you like to have dinner? A French restaurant, perhaps?”

  “With you?”

  “Yes.”

  “As a date?”

  Hunter nodded.

  “Oh…” Esther brushed her blonde hair over her ears. “Maybe after the case ends.”

  “Dr. Mackie’s case?” Hunter squinted. “It’ll be over soon.”

  “No. I mean… your father’s case.”

  “My father’s case?”

  “It takes up your whole life, Tex. It’s your whole world.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “This crusade that you’re on to save your father.” She folded her arms across her chest and looked away. “This drive to find the truth about your family is honorable and it’s noble and it’s amazing, but it leaves room for nothing else in your life. That’s what you’ve been married to for the past three and a half decades. I know that’s why you haven’t dated anyone in years—you’re married to your father’s case.”

  “I…” He drew a long breath. “I’m close, Esther. Very close. I’m so close to finding the truth. But I need to know what Natalie knows.”

  “And if you don’t? What if she never talks?”

  “If she doesn’t talk… then the case is over.”

  Esther nodded, before she stepped towards her car. “Then that’s when we should have dinner.”

  Chapter 19

  The George N. Leighton Criminal Courthouse was the big league, a triumph of law and justice in Chicago. It was a massive hulking presence in the neighborhood of Little Village, five miles west of Downtown. Despite its prestige amongst the law community, many Chicagoans had never passed the building, unless they’d been charged with a felony or called for their civic duty to serve on a jury. Unlike the slicker, newer Downtown court buildings—the Daley Center and the Dirksen U.S. Courthouse—the courthouse on 26th and California Ave was a testament to a time past. The daily parade of felons, mobsters, politicians and celebrities had been happening for more than seven decades, and the line of potential criminals showed no signs of stopping. Crime was big business in Chicago, and the courthouse was often one of the final stops for the people who didn’t succeed. While the courthouse was labeled by some as outdated, those who worked there opted to call it ‘old school.’

  Inside the building, in a courtroom that had heard thousands of criminal charges, Tex Hunter waited at the defense table, reviewing the notes he’d made for his opening statement. There wasn’t much that compared to the first day of a trial. The nerves. The anticipation. The heightened awareness. Some people ran marathons, some drove fast cars, but Tex Hunter got his thrills by having someone’s future in his hands.

  Supporters, spectators, and media had filled the seats of the courtroom behind him. Bailiffs stood at the front of the room. The prosecution table was filled with three lawyers, and two assistants sitting behind them. They typed fast on their laptops and whispered their conversations. The atmosphere of th
e courtroom was hectic and intense. Full of racing murmur. Sexual assault by men in positions of authority was the public’s current moral panic, and the media were latching onto any case that seemed half-interesting.

  Dr. Mackie, dressed in a black suit, waited next to Hunter, leaning forward, his shoulders almost touching the edge of the table, fighting back the feeling that he was about to be sick. He was edgy, not because of his guilt, but because of his fear of the system. He looked at Hunter. “Tell me we’ve got a chance to win this.”

  “Now is not the time for doubt.” Hunter turned to him, speaking in a slow, calm tone. “We’ve got an angle to push for the defense of this case. If we can ask the right questions, then we can smoke out a detective who will help us. That’s our major play.”

  “Which detective?”

  “Detective Regina Heart. She’s not part of our case yet, but I’m going to force her hand. She may be able to convince a reluctant witness to help us.” Hunter drew a breath. “We’ve also got information on some of the witnesses that will make them crack, and it’ll make the entire trial look like a fraud, but we need them to give us something. If not, then our only hope will be to put you on the stand. But like I told you before, that has to be a last resort.”

  “I’m willing to do it. I’m willing to stand up there and talk about these lies. I’ve said it over and over—Katherine Jennings is lying. I can convince the jury.” He blinked back the tears in his eyes. “I can tell them the truth.”

  Hunter nodded, and tried to focus his attention on the notes in front of him. He believed Dr. Mackie. He had no doubt. The doctor had lived his life with integrity and honor, and he couldn’t imagine him giving that honor away to fondle a young lady. But his belief wasn’t going to win a court case. Miss Jennings’ testimony would be key, and Hunter was willing to push the envelope to expose her lies.

  When the lead bailiff walked into the room, and called the court to stand for Judge Reed, Hunter drew a long breath. He stood, calmed his thoughts, and focused. The court rose to its feet and Judge Reed plodded into the room. The judge rested in his leather chair, read the file in front of him, and called the court to session. After his first statement to the court, Judge Reed called the jury members into the room. They stepped through the side door, led by the bailiff, and all looked to Dr. Mackie first. There was confusion on some of their faces. A squint here, a look of surprise there. That was good. But it was the firm upper lip on one lady, and a snarl by another woman, that concerned Hunter. They had already decided he was guilty.

  From his raised position, Judge Reed talked to the jurors about their responsibilities, and the fact they had to leave any preconceived ideas behind. Judge Reed talked to the jury at length about the court process. Once they all agreed to their responsibilities, he explained the purpose of the opening statement—a roadmap for the case. A projection of what the evidence may show. When the jury nodded their agreement, Judge Reed invited lead prosecutor Dawn Rollins to make her opening statement.

  She moved to the lectern, and placed her notepad on the wooden platform in front of her. She adjusted the microphone, and smiled at the jury. Rollins was dressed in soft colors, a deliberate choice to appear welcoming and friendly. She was a petite woman, and her smile was disarming.

  *****

  “May it please the court. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you for your service to the court. We welcome you with open arms and remind you that you must bring no preconceived ideas or feelings into the court case. You must listen to the case, listen to the evidence that’s presented to you, and listen to the facts.

  My name is Dawn Rollins, and with my colleagues here, Mr. Trent Lovell and Miss Paula Hornsby, we are going to present the case of criminal sexual assault against Dr. David Mackie.

  In this climate, we, the citizens of Cook County, have to acknowledge that people in a position of power have an undue influence over vulnerable people. Our duty as citizens of this community is to protect the vulnerable. We cannot allow the strong to take advantage of the weak. We cannot allow those in power to prey on the defenseless.

  Make no mistake, Dr. Mackie is not a harmless man. He’s a person in authority. A person that people trust.

  And he took advantage of that trust.

  Miss Katherine Jennings is a brave woman. She has stepped up and done what many haven’t, and she’s made a criminal report. She reported Dr. Mackie for taking advantage of her. In this case, in this court, you will hear direct testimony from Miss Jennings. She has made the courageous decision to tell us what happened on that day. And make no mistake, it is a very valiant decision. We are asking her to talk about a traumatic sexual event in front of a room full of people she doesn’t know. She will be nervous. She will be scared. But don’t think that means she isn’t telling the truth. Making an allegation of sexual assault is not the type of attention most women want to bring on themselves.

  Miss Jennings will explain that she went to the doctor with complaints of a rash on her upper leg and lower back—later determined to be the result of poison ivy, which had accidently rubbed against her skin. Her testimony may be very hard to hear, perhaps uncomfortable, but I implore you to listen to everything she has to say.

  When in Dr. Mackie’s office, the doctor provided her two Valium pills to ingest. He said it was to calm her down. Then, she was asked to remove her dress for the doctor to check the rash. Dr. Mackie asked her to be completely naked. She felt uncomfortable; however, she trusted the doctor. She undressed.

  Once naked, Dr. Mackie groped her breasts and digitally raped her. It’s as horrible as it sounds.

  Another patient, Miss Daisy Perkins, was looking for the bathroom and accidently entered the doctor’s room and saw this happening. You will hear from this witness and she will tell you the shock she experienced when she opened the door to Dr. Mackie’s office.

  You will also hear from delivery driver, Mr. David Denison, who walked past the patient’s room and saw her through the side window. He will explain that, through the window, he saw Dr. Mackie groping Miss Jennings.

  You will hear from a witness who saw Miss Jennings after the assault. Christoph King was entering the building as Miss Jennings was leaving. He will explain that he saw Miss Jennings crying after she left the doctor’s office.

  You will hear from other witnesses who will advise how Miss Jennings reacted after the event.

  During this trial, you will also hear from expert witnesses who will explain the events in more detail.

  Detective Jessica Nam, from the Chicago Police Department, will explain the report that she took from Miss Jennings. Detective Nam will explain the evidence that was collected with the Chicago Police Department’s Sexual Assault Evidence Kit. You will hear that Miss Jennings submitted to a blood test, and was found to have Valium in her system. This is a drug that Dr. Mackie had at his office, and is commonly used to calm people’s nerves.

  You will hear from expert witnesses who will describe the embarrassment, pain and trauma that a sexual assault victim will go through after such a traumatic event. Dr. Mary Wellings, a respected psychologist, will explain the victim impact assessment that she wrote after interviewing Miss Jennings.

  This trial isn’t a matter of ‘he said, she said.’ This is a case where we have witnesses who are willing to testify about what they saw.

  Make no mistake, this is a crime.

  A horrific one.

  And in perhaps no other crime is a victim scrutinized so vigorously, nor so intensely. Most victims of sexual assault fear being judged for what happened to them, which leads to many victims withdrawing their cases, or not reporting them at all. It takes a lot of bravery to stand up.

  That’s what our victim is doing. She’s making the brave decision to confront the system.

  Victims of sexual assault may suffer harassment, retaliation, and unfair treatment in their community or workplace, and the pain and discomfort of being questioned is one of the worst things that ever happens to most p
eople. A person doesn’t make the decision to take a case to trial lightly.

  This case will be hard, it will be tough, but I implore you to listen to the evidence.

  I thank you for your service to this courtroom. Thank you for acknowledging the truth.”

  *****

  As Rollins delivered her opening statement, juror number five sneered. The youngest person on the panel at thirty-five, she was already angry with Dr. Mackie, and the case hadn’t even begun. It was hard for the general public to ignore the current media coverage about the abuse of women by men in positions of trust, influence, and power. The media had begun to apply the same guilty notion to all males in positions of authority, but in a court of law, every case had to be judged on its merits, and its merits alone.

  A trial is told through two storytellers, the prosecution and the defense, and selecting the right audience to listen to the tale is an important part of the process. The voir dire, the jury selection process which happened before the case began, had been a battle for the defense, however, there was no way to tell how a person would react to the evidence. Consultants were paid in the hundreds of thousands to assess a juror’s suitability, but Hunter preferred to rely on his instinct and experience to predict their choices. When asked the right questions, the potential juror would point to their preferences—what websites did they read on a regular basis? Where did they source their news? Which social media platforms did they use?

  Questioning the jurors was part of the subtle psychological process of figuring out which way a person might lean. Hunter had planned for a more mature jury—they would be more likely to believe a doctor and doubt a young woman—and he’d gotten his wish. There wasn’t one person under thirty-five, and five people over sixty. Seven men, five women.

  Juror ten, an older male mechanic who had worked hard his whole life, appeared to have contempt for any person under twenty-five. Juror twelve, in her late sixties, looked like she would doubt every word that came out of Miss Jennings’ mouth. She was a complainer, a conspiracy theorist, and a person who questioned everything.