Lady Justice and the Pharaoh's Curse

by Robert Thornhill

  “So Councilman Carson, let me summarize. You received a tip from a constituent regarding illegal marijuana being grown in the basement of the defendants, Ralph and Doris McDonald. You reported the information to the Drug Enforcement Unit which subsequently conducted a search of the McDonald home. The result of that search yielded 41 live marijuana plants and 35 grams of processed marijuana. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, Counselor, and let me just say ---.”

  “Thank you very much, Councilman Carson,” Benson said, cutting him off. “You may be excused.”

  Benson turned to the judge. “Your Honor, the prosecution rests.”

  Councilman Carson had turned a simple trial into a three-ring circus, but the fact remained, the McDonalds had broken the law.

  Romero had her work cut out for her.

  CHAPTER 9

  As I drove home from the courthouse, I realized that I was completely drained, not physically, I had just been sitting on my butt all day, but emotionally.

  Seeing the McDonalds sitting at the defense table, their lives in the balance, possibly facing jail time as well as a hefty fine, was disheartening. What was left of their future was in the hands of twelve strangers. The State of Missouri was doing its best to take away their freedom and the only thing standing in their way was Suzanne Romero.

  Seeing the trial unfold was like a chess game. Prosecutor Benson would attack with the testimony of his witnesses and Romero would counter with her cross examination.

  I felt that she had totally destroyed the credibility of the representatives of the Glaucoma Foundation and the FDA. She hadn’t even bothered to cross Councilman Carson. He had self-destructed without any help from her.

  At the end of the day, she had done all she could do, but the fact remained that the McDonalds had knowingly broken the law and had been caught red-handed.

  As I turned onto Armour Boulevard, I decided that my best course of action would be to retreat to the comfort of my recliner with a cold glass of Arbor Mist and just unwind. I was, after all, using my vacation days for the trial. I knew that Maggie had a late appointment, so I thought I might surprise her by throwing together my signature dish, tuna casserole.

  When I pulled up in front of my building, my heart sunk. Willie and Jerry the Joker were sitting on the front steps. I knew Willie wouldn’t be a problem, but Jerry was like the toll booth out on the Kansas Turnpike. I wouldn’t be able to pass without paying the toll and the toll would be listening to one of his stupid jokes.

  Might as well get it over with, I thought as I headed up the sidewalk.

  “How’s it going, guys?”

  Willie shook his head with disgust. “I come out to get a little sun an’ enjoy de afternoon, an’ dis fool won’t quit jabberin’.”

  “Hey,” Jerry replied defensively, “this is amateur night at the Comedy Club and I was just trying out some new material. You should be honored that you got to hear it first.”

  “Some honor!” Willie replied, rolling his eyes.

  “So where have you been all day?” Jerry asked.

  “In court. I was attending the McDonald’s trial.”

  “Oh, yeah, the old couple that got caught growing weed. That reminds me of a joke.”

  “Just one and then I have to go. Promise?”

  “Absolutely. Just one. A judge finds two young men guilty of drug abuse. However, since it’s their first offense, he decides to be lenient. Instead of jail he tells them to go out and convince their friends about the evils of drugs. They do so, and a week later they report back and tell the judge how they’ve progressed. The first young man says, ‘I convinced twelve young people to give up drugs. I showed them this piece of paper with two circles on it, a big one and a little one. I told them the big circle represents their brain size before drug use and the little circle showed their brain size after drug use.’ ‘That’s very impressive,’ says the judge. He turns to the second young man and says, ‘So how many young people did you manage to convert?’ ‘Two-hundred and fourteen.’ ‘Holy cow!’ exclaims the judge. ‘How did you manage so many?’ The young man replies, ‘Well, I used two circles too. I pointed to the small circle and said, this is your asshole before prison ---.”

  “Dat’s jus’ sick!” Willie exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “I’m outta here. I can’t take no more o’ dis!”

  “Good luck tonight,” I said, patting Jerry on the shoulder as I passed by.

  Once inside my apartment, I changed into my comfy clothes and poured my first glass of Arbor Mist. I plopped into my recliner and turned on the TV.

  Big mistake.

  The station was broadcasting the evening news. The first thing I saw was a reporter interviewing Councilman Victor Carson on the courthouse steps.

  A reporter shoved a microphone close to his face. “Councilman, our polls show that the community is divided regarding this trial. Many feel that charging the McDonalds with a felony for using marijuana to treat his glaucoma is overkill. I know that you are running a ‘tough-on-crime’ campaign for re-election, but don’t you think that the city’s resources could be better spent focusing on the more violent crimes in our city?”

  The councilman replied with a condescending smile, “My dear, 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. Thank you.”

  The camera followed Carson as he ducked into his limo and drove away.

  I clicked off the TV and sat there in a funk. I had to grudgingly admit that in theory, he was right. We can’t just pick and choose which laws we want to obey, but my gut was still telling me that what was happening to the McDonalds just wasn’t right.

  Once again, I wished that life could just be black and white instead of so many shades of grey.

  I figured that the best way to take my mind off this moral dilemma was to get started with my casserole. I looked at my watch. If my timing was right, it would just be coming out of the oven when Maggie walked in the door.

  Everything went according to plan. Maggie was right on time. She had changed into her comfy’s and we had just pulled our chairs up to the table when the phone rang. I almost didn’t answer. I was on vacation and my casserole was getting cold, but in retrospect, I was glad that I did.

  It was Maggie’s half-brother, Kevin.

  “Hey, Walt. I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but Maggie told me you had taken some time off to attend that medical marijuana trial. If you’ve got a minute, I’ve got something you might be interested in.”

  Kevin, having been a P.I. all those years, just couldn’t walk away from an interesting case and I respected his opinion. I looked at my casserole and decided I could warm it up in the microwave.

  “No problem. What have you got?”

  “Well, Veronica and I were just hanging out, watching TV, and a news bulletin comes on where some reporter is interviewing the little councilman creep. Veronica points to the guy and says, ‘I know him. He’s one of my customers!’ ”

  I dropped my fork and it clattered on my plate.

  When Kevin thought he was dying because he couldn’t get a replacement kidney, he decided that he wanted to play ‘hide-the-salami’ a few more times before he kicked the bucket. Being new in town, he came to me looking for a quick score. I couldn’t help him, but I knew that Willie could. He still kept in touch with his old cohorts from his street days. I knew from past experience that he had quite a number of ‘ladies’ programmed into his phone. I put the two of them together and at Kevin’s ‘celebration of life’ party, the vivacious Veronica was on his arm.

  That was several months ago. I figured it would just be a one night stand, but Kevin had gotten his replacement kidney and Veronica was still in the picture. I had no way of knowing whether her affect
ions were still being paid for or if their relationship had evolved into something more. It wasn’t any of my business and if Kevin didn’t mind sharing Veronica’s charms with other guys, so be it.

  “So --- so what you’re saying is that Councilman Carson is one of Veronica’s johns?”

  “That’s what I’m saying. Then he goes on TV with all that bullshit about being tough on crime and the law is the law. It really pissed me off.”

  “So exactly why are you telling me this?”

  “Veronica can’t stand the guy. She says he’s a real pig. He treats her like so much trash. She’d love to get back at him.”

  “Are you saying that Veronica would be willing ---?”

  “That’s what I’m saying. I hear that you’re real tight with that Romero woman. Give her a call and if she’s interested we’ll be in court tomorrow.”

  Suzanne Romero was on my speed dial. I figured that if Mary ever whacked another trespasser or if Dad and Bernice ever got pinched for doing the nasty in a public place, I might need to reach her in a hurry.

  “Walt, what can I do for you?”

  “Actually, it’s what I can do for you. Do you have a minute?”

  When our conversation was over, I was pumped. I looked at the cold casserole on my plate and realized that heating it up in the microwave was small price to pay for the fireworks that would be coming the next day.

  CHAPTER 10

  Suzanne Romero had postponed giving her opening remarks, choosing to wait until after the prosecution presented its case.

  As she stood in the well facing the jury, I wondered how she felt knowing that her performance would dictate the course of the McDonald’s life for years to come.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Yesterday, you heard the prosecution present its case. It basically contained two points. First, they put three witnesses on the stand who testified that medical marijuana was unproven and at best was ineffective. Their second point was that the McDonalds were found to have marijuana, both live plants as well as processed marijuana in their possession.

  “Today, you will hear testimony, not from so-called experts, but from ordinary folks like you and I, who have been faced with medical problems and have been helped by using medical marijuana. After hearing their testimony, I’ll let you compare their real-life stories to those of the experts and decide for yourselves which has more validity.

  “As for the prosecution’s second point, there is no doubt whatsoever that the McDonalds did have marijuana in their possession. They don’t deny it. What I want you to consider is whether the penalty fits the crime. They have been charged with felony possession of a Schedule 1 drug and they face the same penalties as a thug selling heroin on our street corners.”

  Romero turned and pointed to the McDonalds. “When you hear their testimony, I want you to ask yourselves two questions. Are these people street thugs, endangering the lives of others or are they ordinary folks like yourselves just trying to get by the best they can? As for the second question, I’d like you to ask yourselves what you would have done if you were in Ralph McDonald’s shoes.

  “When you answer those two questions, I’m sure you’ll know in your heart that the correct verdict is ‘not guilty.’ ”

  There was no doubt that Romero was tugging on the jury’s heart strings. As she walked back to the defense table, I took another look at the McDonalds. I had seen dozens of druggies pulled off the streets and these old folks bore no resemblance to them whatsoever. If I had been seated in the jury box, she would have had me with her opening statement.

  “Ms. Romero,” the judge instructed, “you may call your first witness.”

  “The defense calls Kristen Bell.”

  A young woman who appeared to be in her middle to late twenties took the stand. At first glance, she looked like most women her age, but when I took a closer look, I could see that her face was etched with wrinkles and there were dark circles under her eyes.

  Romero breezed through the introductory questions, then got down to business.

  “Mrs. Bell, please tell us about your daughter, Anna.”

  Kristen Bell took a deep breath. “Our daughter is almost three years old and suffers from epileptic seizures.”

  Clark Benson jumped to his feet. “Objection, your Honor. I’m sure that Mrs. Bell has a compelling story to tell, but it has absolutely no relevance to whether the McDonalds had an illegal drug in their possession.”

  Romero fired right back. “You honor, the prosecution wasted a half day of the court’s time yesterday belittling the use of medical marijuana. We are simply providing a rebuttal witness to give the jury another side of the story.”

  The judge looked at Benson and shrugged his shoulders. “You opened this can of worms, Counselor. Objection overruled. Proceed Ms. Romero.”

  “Sorry for the interruption, Mrs. Bell. Please tell us about Anna.”

  “She has experienced seizures almost since birth, some days as many as a hundred. She should be walking and talking, but she isn’t. We’ve taken her to at least a half-dozen doctors and she’s been hospitalized several times. They’ve put her on special diets and we have two pages of drugs that they’ve prescribed, but nothing has worked --- nothing, that is, until we found Charlotte’s Web.”

  “I’m sure you’re not talking about the movie.”

  Kristen smiled. “No, it is an oil that’s made from cannabis. It comes from a dispensary in Colorado Springs. They have a process that removes the THC, the stuff that gets people high, but retains the CBD which has the medical properties. There was a little girl named Charlotte Figi. She had Dravet syndrome, which is one of the most deadly forms of epilepsy. She had catastrophic seizures. Her heart actually stopped twice. Then her parents discovered the cannabis oil and it saved her life. It was such a dramatic turnaround that the stuff became known as Charlotte’s Web.”

  “Have you given Charlotte’s Web to Anna?”

  Kristen hesitated and glanced at the judge. “Yes, we’ve tried it. All it takes is one drop under her tongue. The night we gave it to her was the first good night’s sleep I had in over a year.”

  “So, are you administering it to her on a regular basis now?”

  “We couldn’t at first,” Kristen replied. “Until just recently, it was illegal to possess Charlotte’s Web in Missouri. We were so desperate, we were willing to do anything to get what Anna needed, including moving to Colorado. We actually put our house on the market, but thankfully, the Missouri legislature passed a bill legalizing hemp oil, Charlotte’s Web, for use with epilepsy.”

  “So you and your husband were willing to completely uproot your family and move to another state just so that you could legally buy Charlotte’s Web?”

  “Absolutely! It’s for our daughter. What else could we do?”

  Romero turned to the judge. “Nothing further, your Honor.”

  Judge Harrison looked at Benson. “Care to cross, Counselor?”

  “No, your Honor.”

  I didn’t blame him. He had absolutely nothing to gain by badgering such a sympathetic witness.

  The judge turned back to Romero. “Call your next witness.”

  “The defense calls Ralph McDonald.”

  Ralph was unsteady as he rose from his chair and shuffled to the witness stand using a cane for support. I didn’t remember the cane. Maybe it was just a prop, but needed or not, it was effective. Ralph McDonald looked nothing like a street thug.

  Once he was safely seated, Romero proceeded. “Mr. McDonald, what do you do for a living?”

  “I don’t do much of anything these days. I used to be a carpenter on a construction crew, but then this glaucoma thing hit me about six years ago. It’s kinda hard to drive a nail when you can’t see. I kept hitting my fingers.”

  His last remark elicited a chuckle from members of the jury.

  “I’m on disability now. I can keep the yard mowed and things fixed up around the house, but that’s about the size of it.”


  “Please tell the jury about the treatment of your glaucoma and what led you to begin using marijuana.”

  “Well, when my eyes started going bad, I went to the doc. He’s the one that told me I had it. He said there was no cure, but if I took the medicine he prescribed, at least I wouldn’t go blind, so I took it.”

  “What did you take and how did it work for you?”

  “The stuff he gave me was called Xalatan. Who dreams up these crazy names for medicine? Seems to me they could call the stuff something that people could pronounce.”

  More snickers from the jury.

  “Anyway, I took the stuff. It did reduce the pressure in my eyes, but what it caused was almost as bad.”

  “You’re talking about the side effects?”

  “Yeah, that. The pressure was less, but then my eyelids started swelling and turning all red. Then this nasty stuff started oozing out of my eyes. I started having headaches and dizzy spells, but I knew I had to keep taking the stuff or go blind.”

  “So what happened then?”

  “Doris got all worried and started lookin’ stuff up on the computer. She found this website that talked about how marijuana could help relieve the pressure in my eyes without givin’ me all the bad stuff. She said I outta try it, but I didn’t want to. I’d never ever done no drugs.”

  He turned to the judge. “I really do enjoy an ice cold beer after mowing the lawn, but I’ve never done drugs.”

  The judge smiled and nodded.

  “Anyway, it got so bad, I figured I might as well give it a try. I knew a guy from our construction crew that smoked a joint every now and then, so I bummed a couple off him. Sure enough, it worked just like Doris had read on that website.”

  “So what did you do then?”

  “Well, I knew I wanted to keep using the stuff, but I didn’t want no part of those creeps that sell it on the street, so I decided to grow my own. I already had a couple of those grow lights. Me and Doris used to grow our own tomato plants from seed. I set up my little garden in one corner of my basement and everything was just hunky-dory until the cops showed up and took everything away.”