[Lady Justice 17] - Lady Justice and the Pharaoh's Curse

by Robert Thornhill

  “Mr. McDonald, in just a few minutes, the prosecutor is going to ask you if you started your garden and used the marijuana knowing that it was illegal. You seem to have otherwise lived a clean life. How did you justify breaking the law?”

  “Well, first off, the medicine the doc gave me was doin’ bad things to my eyes, then on top of that, it was eatin’ a hole in my pocket. I already told you I’m on disability. I get about fourteen hundred dollars a month. The darn medicine costs us almost twelve hundred a year. I could grow my little plants for just the few pennies it costs to burn the grow lights. Look, Ms. Romero, I wasn’t no dope dealer selling stuff to kids. I was just growin’ a few plants in the corner of my basement so’s I could get better and not go broke. I didn’t figure I was hurtin’ nobody.”

  “Mr. McDonald, the prosecutor made a big deal out of the shotgun that the police found in your home. Could you tell us about that?”

  “Sure could. It belonged to my Grandpappy. He gave it to my Dad who gave it to me. I used to hunt rabbits and squirrels with it, but it hasn’t been fired in years. Shootin’ a gun when you can’t see is kinda like drivin’ a car. You never know what you’re gonna hit. That old gun was really somethin’ special to me. I hope the police are takin’ good care of it.”

  “Mr. McDonald, I couldn’t help but notice that your eyes are red and swollen.”

  “Yeah, it’s happenin’ all over again. Since the cops took away my weed, I’ve had to go back to that damn medicine. My eyelids started swellin’ up right away.”

  “I’m sure you heard Kristen Reed talk about their family moving to Colorado so that their daughter could get the meds that she needs. Have you considered that possibility?”

  “Well, first off, if they throw Doris and me in the clink, we ain’t goin’ nowhere, but even if they don’t, there’s no way we could move. We’re too old, we don’t have the money and all our family is here.”

  “So, with Missouri laws the way they are, you’ll be forced to take an expensive medicine whose side effects are almost as bad as the disease they’re supposed to be treating?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, it sure looks that way.”

  “Thank you, Mr. McDonald. I have nothing further.”

  The judge turned to Benson. “Your witness.”

  Benson didn’t move. He seemed deep in thought. Here was another sympathetic witness. I’m sure he was thinking that badgering him certainly wouldn’t win any points with the jury. Undoubtedly he had intended to make Ralph admit under oath that he had knowingly broken the law, but Romero had pre-empted that move. Finally, he rose.

  “Mr. McDonald, I’m sure everyone in the courtroom is sympathetic to your situation. You stated that given your medical condition, you were willing to break the law to get the relief you needed.”

  “Yes, Sir. I did say that.”

  “Let me ask you another question, if you and your wife were destitute and hungry, would you consider stealing food from your grocer to feed your family?”

  “No, Sir!”

  I could see that Ralph’s emphatic answer had taken him by surprise.

  “Really? How is that so different from what you’re on trial for today?”

  “Because if I stole, that would be hurtin’ somebody else. What I done in my basement wasn’t hurtin’ nobody. I’m surprised a smart feller like you can’t see the difference.”

  I would have bet my paycheck that Benson was wishing he could have that question back. He valiantly tried one more time.

  “Mr. McDonald, while your actions may not have harmed someone else, they were still in violation of the law. You knew this going in. Now that you have been caught, are you and your wife prepared to accept the consequences?”

  “Yes, Sir, I recon we are, but it seems to me that whether we have to or not is in the hands of those good folks over there,” he said pointing to the jury.

  Benson had had enough.

  “No further questions of this witness.”

  “You may take your seat at the defense table, Mr. McDonald,” the judge said. “Ms. Romero, any more witnesses for the defense?”

  “Yes, your Honor, the defense calls Councilman Victor Carson to the stand.”

  Benson was back on his feet. “Objection, your Honor! Councilman Carson was a witness for the prosecution. This is highly irregular.”

  “Judge Hartley,” Romero countered, “Councilman Carson did indeed testify for the prosecution, but information has come to us that refutes his sworn testimony and seriously challenges the credibility of this witness.”

  “This should be interesting,” Hartly replied. “Objection overruled. Councilman Carson will take the stand.”

  After being admonished that he was still under oath, Carson took his seat.

  Romero referred to a document she was holding then looked up and gave him a big smile. “Mr. Carson, according to your testimony yesterday, you referred to yourself as the ‘tough-on-crime’ candidate. Is that correct?”

  “It certainly is, Ms. Romero. Anyone familiar with my term on the City Council knows that I don’t molly-coddle criminals. I have urged our District Attorney to pursue wrong-doers to the fullest extent of the law.”

  Romero glanced at her notes again. “Mr. Carson, I was privileged to hear your interview on many of the local TV stations after court yesterday. I believe you said, ‘A crime is a crime. Where do you draw the line? Do we just ignore the little transgressions? Who decides whether a crime is important enough to pursue? The law is the law and if it’s broken, the transgressor must pay. Like the old TV cop, Baretta said, ‘Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.’ We can’t be wishy-washy about law and order.”

  Carson swelled up like a peacock. “Yes, I said that and I meant every word.”

  “So in your opinion, if a transgressor breaks the law, he should be punished no matter who he is.”

  “Absolutely!”

  “Great, now that we have your statement on record, I’d like to ask you where you were on the evening of April 23rd of this year.”

  Benson was livid. “Objection! Councilman Carson is not on trial here today.”

  “Your Honor, Councilman Carson is certainly not on trial, at least not today, but his testimony certainly is. I think everything will become clear when he answers the question.”

  Hartley turned to Carson. “Objection overruled. Mr. Carson, please answer the question.”

  “But --- but, your Honor, I have no idea where I might have been on that date without consulting my calendar,” he sputtered.

  “Perhaps I can help jog your memory, Mr. Tough on Crime. Are you familiar with the young lady standing in the back of the courtroom?”

  Every eye in the courtroom turned and focused on Veronica. She and Kevin had slipped into the room unnoticed until now.

  Veronica smiled and gave the councilman a little finger wave.

  Carson’s face which had been flushed with rage suddenly turned ashen.

  Romero went for the kill. “Mr. Carson, isn’t it true that on the night of April 23rd, you were in the company of the woman in the back of the courtroom and that you in fact paid her for her attentions that evening?”

  Carson didn’t respond. He simply buried his face in his hands.

  “So, let me summarize. You stated that the law is the law and if it’s broken, the transgressor must pay. Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time. Aren’t those your words? Have I left anything out? Oh yes, I believe you also said that if someone breaks the law he should be punished no matter who he is.

  “Nothing further for this witness your Honor. The defense rests.”

  “Mr. Benson, re-direct?”

  Benson, like Carson, had his face buried in his hands. He simply shook his head. Undoubtedly, he was trying to figure out how his case had wound up in the crapper.

  The judge looked at his watch. “We’ll break for lunch. Counselors, be ready with your closing remarks when we reconvene.”

  I headed to the lobby and found
Kevin and Veronica rushing out the door ahead of a pack of reporters. My phone buzzed and I saw a text from Kevin that said, ‘Meet us at Denny’s.’

  They were already seated when I arrived.

  “How about them apples?” Kevin asked with a grin.

  “Well, Veronica certainly stole the show,” I replied, “but hasn’t she put herself in jeopardy?”

  “Nope! Ms. Romero took care of that for us. She talked with the D.A. and Veronica was given immunity if she agreed to testify. I would imagine that the councilman was in cuffs before he left the building.”

  “The little creep got what he deserved,” Veronica said with a look of satisfaction. “I might not be the Citizen of the Year, but he had no right to treat me the way he did.”

  Kevin patted her hand. “You did a brave thing today and I’m proud of you.”

  It was another David and Goliath story for sure. A man with the power and influence to launch a raid by the Drug Enforcement Unit and dictate the trial strategy of the District Attorney had been brought to his knees by a lowly hooker.

  Once again, I was mesmerized by the way Lady Justice somehow finds a way to balance the scales of good and evil.

  Clark Benson came before the jury for his closing argument with his hat in his hand. I actually felt sorry for the guy. He had been sandbagged and handcuffed from the very beginning.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I would like to preface my remarks with an apology. Sometimes rational thought is overcome by the ambitions of powerful men. That has certainly been the case the last two days. Medical marijuana was never supposed to be on trial in this courtroom. That is a matter better left to our Senators and Representatives in Jefferson City. Until that matter is settled, the use and possession of marijuana for any purpose in the State of Missouri is illegal.

  “It is an undisputed fact that 41 live marijuana plants and 35 grams of processed marijuana were found in the possession of Ralph and Doris McDonald. That simple fact should have been the focus of this trial.

  “Undoubtedly you have felt sympathy or at the least empathy for the defendants. That, of course, has been Ms. Romero’s intention throughout this trial. As honest, hard-working and down-to-earth as the McDonalds may appear to be, that should have no bearing on the verdict that you bring today.

  “You have each taken an oath to uphold the law. The McDonalds have admitted breaking the law. The only possible verdict you can bring today is ‘guilty.’ ”

  Benson took his seat and Romero took her place before the jury.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, in my opening remarks, I asked you to consider two things. One had to do with the value of marijuana as a valid treatment for disease. I only raised that point because of the direction that the prosecution’s case had taken. After hearing Mr. Benson’s apology to the court, I am in complete agreement that judging the merits of the drug had no place in this trial.

  “The second point that I asked you to consider was whether the penalty that could be imposed if you render a guilty verdict fits the crime you heard about the last two days.

  “Mr. McDonald was growing a few plants in his basement to treat his medical condition. He never sold what he grew nor did it ever leave his own home. If we were in 21 other states in this great nation, we wouldn’t even be here today because what Mr. McDonald was doing is perfectly legal there.

  “You’ve seen Mr. and Mrs. McDonald and heard him testify. Are you prepared to render a verdict that could incarcerate them for up to three years with hardened criminals convicted of heroin possession?

  “Mr. Benson made the point that the law is the law, no matter whether we believe it is right or just, and if it’s broken, the verdict must always be guilty. Yet, the actions of the office that he represents makes a mockery of that statement.

  “Selective enforcement occurs when the office of the District Attorney arbitrarily makes the decision to prosecute one crime and look the other way when a different crime is committed.

  “Just a few months ago, an organ trader ring was operating in our city. Due to the diligence of our fine police department, the leaders of that organization were brought to justice. In the course of their investigation, the police found that proverbial little black book that contained the names of a number of prominent citizens of our community that had purchased black market kidneys to save the lives of their loved ones. The purchasing of body parts is illegal in every country of the world with the exception of Iran, yet, not a single person found in the little black book was prosecuted. The office of the District Attorney was willing to look the other way when people of wealth and influence broke the law for medical reasons, but today in this courtroom, they are seeking the maximum penalty because Ralph McDonald chose to grow a few plants to treat his glaucoma. Is this fair and just? I’ll let you decide.

  “The final thing that I asked you to consider was what you would do if you were in Ralph McDonald’s shoes. A strong hard-working man is stricken with a debilitating disease. He must quit his job and live on a disability check of fourteen hundred dollars a month. His only alternative to going blind is to purchase a drug that costs him almost a month’s income, a drug whose side effects are nearly as debilitating as the disease it was meant to treat. He discovers that a simple plant which he could grow in his basement for pennies a day would give him the relief he needed without the side effects. Be honest with yourself. If you were Ralph McDonald, what would you have done?

  “If you are truly honest with yourself, I have no doubt that the verdict you will render will be ‘not guilty.’ ”

  The judge gave his final instructions to the jury and they filed out of the room to deliberate.

  I slipped out of the room to take a leak. I barely had time to shake, tuck and zip before I heard the bailiff announce that court was in session.

  The McDonalds stood, holding hands, as the judge asked the foreman if they had reached a verdict.

  “We have your Honor.”

  “What say you?”

  “We the jury, find the defendants not guilty.”

  The judge turned to the McDonalds. “Congratulations. You are free to go.”

  I made my way to the defense table.

  “Nice work, Counselor. I truly believe justice was served.”

  “And thanks to you for the tip about the councilman. I think we did the city a great service today.”

  I took Ralph’s hand. “Congratulations. This was the right thing to do.”

  “Thank you Officer. I’m guessing I won’t get my grow lights and plants back, but I’d sure like to have my Grandpappy’s shotgun. Any chance of that?”

  “I think we can work something out.”

  A few days ago, I was feeling pretty low, thinking that maybe Lady Justice wasn’t doing her job. I shouldn’t have worried. She hadn’t let me down yet.

  CHAPTER 11

  As Phil Collins slid onto the stool at the hotel bar, he couldn’t help but notice the voluptuous blonde in the black sheath sitting a few stools away.

  He ordered a drink and when he glanced her way, he noticed that she was watching him intently.

  When he smiled, she slipped off her stool and took the one next to him.

  “Buy a girl a drink?” she asked coyly.

  “Uhhh, sure. Why not.” He motioned to the bartender. “Whatever the lady’s drinking. Bring another one.”

  The bartender nodded and gave him a wink.

  The blonde leaned so close Phil could feel her warm breath on his neck. “My name’s Rhonda. What’s yours?”

  “Phil. My name’s Phil.”

  “So, Phil, where are you from?”

  “Akron, Ohio. I’m here for the convention. Just got in town yesterday.”

  “Wow, you’re a long way from home. Are you staying here at the hotel?”

  “Yeah, I got a room on the sixth floor. Great view. Beautiful city.”

  “If you don’t have anything planned for this evening, would you be interested in some company?”

&nb
sp; “Gee, I don’t know. What did you have in mind?”

  “Oh, come on Phil. I think you know, and I’ll bet you could think of a way to put my fee on your expense account.”

  “You mean I’d have to pay?”

  “Give me a break, Phil,” she said cupping her ample breasts. “These babies cost a bundle. If you wanna play, you have to pay.”

  “How much are we talking about?”

  “Five hundred for an hour and I guarantee you’ll get your money’s worth.”

  He thought for a moment. “Okay, you’re on. Let me pay my tab and we’ll head to my room.”

  Phil put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door knob and locked the door.

  “Okay, where do we go from here?”

  “Let’s get the business part of our arrangement out of the way first,” she replied. “That way I can give you my full attention.”

  “Sure,” he said, pulling his wallet from his pocket. “You said five hundred, right?”

  She nodded.

  He peeled five bills from his wallet and handed them to her. She tucked them into her sequined clutch bag and placed it on the dresser. When she turned back, Phil was holding up his shield.

  “Sorry, Rhonda, but I’m placing you under arrest for solicitation. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to ---.”

  “Oh, cut the crap, Phil. I know the drill. Listen, can’t we work something out? You being a cop and all, I’d be willing to forget my fee if you could forget we met.”

  “Geez, Rhonda, I’ve been on Vice for five years. Do you think I would have lasted that long if I was willing to look the other way for a blow job?”

  She shrugged, “Hey, you can’t blame a girl for trying.”

  “Might as well get this over with,” he said, pulling out his cuffs. “My partner’s got a car waiting downstairs to take you to central booking.”

  She hesitated. “Okay, so you don’t want sex. Would you be willing to deal if I could give you a bigger fish?”