Faith and Justice

by Peter O'Mahoney

  “Is it true that you and Mr. Anderson were in disagreement about this—that you wanted to expand and Mr. Anderson didn’t?”

  “Like all business ventures, we were working through our differences. That’s normal in business; it’s how things work. There was nothing wrong with that.”

  “With Mr. Anderson out of the picture, you could expand, couldn’t you?”

  “I guess so.”

  “So, in fact, you do have something to gain from turning against Mr. Anderson, don’t you?” Hunter stood. “You can expand the business as you wish, can’t you?”

  “That’s not relevant.” Bauer was flippant. “I won’t turn on my friend for the sake of business. That man is my friend, I want to protect him, but I also have to tell the truth.”

  “Is it true that you were next to the men when the argument started between Reverend Green and Mr. Anderson in the hallway of the Congress Hotel?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Did you begin that argument?”

  “I’m sorry? No, no. I didn’t begin that argument.”

  Hunter looked over the file that Jones had handed him earlier. He placed his palm on it, looked directly at Bauer and then back to the folder. Bauer squinted with confusion at the reference.

  “Did it annoy you that an African American man had the right to speak at that function?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Let me repeat the question for you, Mr. Bauer.” Hunter’s voice rose. “Did it annoy you that an African American man had the right to speak at that function?”

  “No.” Bauer shook his head.

  “Really?” Hunter tapped his finger on top of the file, making a clear enough statement for Bauer to see. “Do you consider yourself a racist?”

  “What?”

  “Objection,” Law called out. “Immaterial. Not relevant to this case.”

  “Your Honor,” Hunter argued. “I assure you this is very relevant to this case. I’m establishing this witness’ credentials.”

  “Overruled, but get to the point quickly, Mr. Hunter.” Judge Lockett turned to the witness. “Answer the question.”

  Bauer squirmed in his chair. “I don’t consider myself a racist.”

  Hunter exaggerated his surprise. “But you were there that night? Did you also argue with Reverend Green?”

  “Just because I argued with Reverend Green doesn’t make me a racist.”

  “You also saw Reverend Green in the alley that night?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re implying.”

  “Mr. Anderson.” Hunter stood tall. “Is it true that you make monthly donations to a group called the White Alliance Coalition?”

  A gasp went through the courtroom.

  The shock was clear on Bauer’s face. He gripped the arms of his chair, breathing heavily through his nostrils. Hunter paused for a few long moments, creating an uncomfortable silence, and then continued.

  “Mr. Anderson, can you please answer the question?”

  “Objection,” Law called out again, more so Bauer had time to think. “Immaterial. I fail to see how this is relevant.”

  “Overruled, again, but let’s get to the point, Mr. Hunter,” Judge Lockett said.

  “That’s where the money for the White Alliance Coalition comes from, isn’t it?” Hunter tapped the file on the table with his finger. “And I will remind you that you’re under oath, Mr. Bauer. Any lies here are subject to contempt of court and perjury.”

  Bauer looked to Law, but she avoided eye contact.

  “I…” He shrugged.

  Hunter tapped the folder on his desk, indicating to Bauer that he had the evidence.

  “My company makes many donations to many different causes.” He was fumbling his words. He turned away from Hunter and crossed one leg over the other.

  “Can you name another organization that your company makes donations to?” Hunter knew that Bauer was not the helping type. Unless he was committed to something, unless he believed in it, then it was unlikely that he would help anyone.

  “I can’t remember any.”

  “If you made donations to other companies, you would have evidence of these donations, wouldn’t you?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t track all my donations.” His body shifted away from Hunter.

  Hunter’s response was quick. “Interesting. So, I’ll ask you again. Do you directly deposit money from your personal account into the account of the White Alliance Coalition?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Do you agree with the White Alliance Coalition’s beliefs?”

  “I don’t know all of the White Alliance Coalition’s beliefs.” There was shaking in his voice.

  “But you have attended some White Alliance Coalition meetings?”

  He shrugged, unsure how to avoid answering the question. “I may have been at the same place at the same time when the meetings were held.”

  “Mr. Bauer.” Hunter’s fist slammed down onto the table. “I’ll ask you again. Are you a racist?”

  “I’m not a racist! I want what’s best for this country! I want to protect our rights! That’s not a crime!” Bauer jumped up in the witness stand, the aggression surging through his veins.

  “Order.” Judge Lockett was firm. “Sit down, Mr. Bauer.”

  Bauer composed himself, ran his hand down to smooth his tie, and then sat down.

  Hunter closed the gap between Bauer and himself. “You hated Reverend Green, didn’t you?”

  “No.”

  “You were there in the alley with him, weren’t you?!”

  Bauer’s voice rose as he became increasingly frustrated. “No!”

  “You’ve testified that you saw them in the alley together. Are you now changing your statement, Mr. Bauer?”

  “C’mon, man! Let it rest,” Bauer fired back. “I don’t have to answer this!”

  Judge Lockett looked down at Bauer. “Please answer the questions asked of you, Mr. Bauer.”

  “No!” Bauer snapped. “I saw them together and they were arguing! I didn’t go into the alley!”

  “Did you hit Reverend Green?”

  “What is this?” Bauer replied angrily, looking to the prosecution.

  “Please answer the questions,” Judge Lockett stated again.

  “No!”

  “Did you punch Reverend Green?”

  “Objection. Inflammatory,” Law stated.

  “Sustained.” Judge Lockett glared at Hunter. “You’ve overstepped the mark, Mr. Hunter.”

  “You killed him, didn’t you? All because of his skin color!”

  “No!”

  “Objection! Argumentative! Inflammatory! Not relevant to this case! There’s no established connection between the White Alliance Coalition and this case!” Law called out.

  “Mr. Hunter!” Judge Lockett was not impressed by the defense’s consecutive outbursts. “The objection is sustained! You will stop that line of questioning immediately!”

  “Withdrawn, Your Honor.” Hunter kept his stare locked on Bauer.

  “Stick to the current case, Mr. Hunter!” The judge’s eyes narrowed as he shouted at the defense attorney.

  Hunter moved back to his desk to review his notes.

  He didn’t have enough to press forward. He knew that.

  All he had was a link, and that wasn’t enough to break Bauer. He had played his trump card, he had played his perfect hand, and he was left with nothing more than the connection between the White Alliance Coalition and Bauer.

  “At this point in time, we have no further questions for this witness.” Hunter sat down. “However, we reserve the right to call this man as a defense witness.”

  He caught two jury members nodding.

  And that was what he wanted.

  CHAPTER 43

  Hunter sat in the small meeting room on the second floor of the courthouse, rubbing his brow, looking over the files. The room was small, had no natural light, and smelled musty. The round table in the middle of
the room was sticky, the chair wobbled every time he moved, and the ceiling felt too high compared to the width of the room.

  Hunter had expected Bauer to crumble under the weight of the new accusations, crumble with the eyes of the court on him, and admit to everything, but Bauer was a man skilled in the art of evasion.

  He had spent his whole life doing it.

  Ray Jones stood in the back corner of the room, arms folded across his chest, and Esther Wright sat directly opposite Hunter. Esther chewed loudly on her gum, flicking through the files in front of her.

  Hunter coughed. “Ahem.”

  “Oh.” Esther lifted her gaze from the file. “Yep. Sorry.” She took the gum out of her mouth and threw it in the wastepaper basket in the corner of the room.

  “I’m sorry too, Tex,” Jones stated. He pulled out the third wooden chair at the table, sitting down as he signed exasperatedly. “I really thought that it was going to be worth something. I really thought that it would be a tipping point for him. We had one big play, and it proved nothing.”

  “It exposed a racist. Everyone knows the truth now. That has to be worth something,” Esther said.

  “Worth what?” Hunter threw his hands up. “Worth putting an innocent man in prison? It’s not worth that. We have to find a way to expose him. There has to be something.”

  “What about the necklace?” Jones asked. “Bauer must’ve taken it the night that Green was killed. That’s the only way he would’ve had it. That has to prove he was there—he was with Green in the alley. What about the fingerprints on the necklace? Maybe there was something we missed?”

  “Browne is too clean for that. The necklace was tested for fingerprints and DNA, and there was nothing. Not even Green’s fingerprints or DNA was on it, which means it was wiped clean before it was placed in Anderson’s bedroom. We’ve tried that play with Browne, and it got us nowhere.” Hunter stood and began to pace the room. “And we have nothing to prove that he took it that night.”

  “So we find a picture of Green with the necklace that night?”

  “That’ll work against us.” Hunter remarked.

  “But the necklace proves Bauer was there,” Esther said. “Now, all we have to do is prove it in court.”

  “Not quite. We know that Bauer was in the alley that night, but we don’t know if he actually killed Green.”

  “Come on.” This time, Jones threw his hands up. “It has to be him. He’s a racist, he hated Green, and he wanted to stop Green from destroying his business. It had to be him.”

  “It certainly checks out that Bauer, not Anderson, could’ve met Green outside the hotel and asked him to go down the alley for a quiet word, away from the cameras. We can play that angle in court.” Hunter stood and paced the room. “I imagine Bauer offered him a deal to discuss something, perhaps to get rid of Anderson, and Green was interested. He would’ve been cautious, but Green was a confident man. He wouldn’t have been scared of walking down an alley with Bauer.”

  “So where does that leave us?”

  “Nowhere. Absolutely nowhere.” Hunter stopped pacing. “We’ve got nothing on Bauer except a theory.”

  Silence fell over the room, the two men staring into space as they contemplated their next move, while Esther scrolled through her phone.

  Hunter drew deep breaths as he tracked over the night in his head—what could have happened or how it took place. He was sure he was missing something, something that would tie the details together. In the courtroom, the doubt was building around Anderson’s guilt, but it wasn’t enough. Even with one juror on his side, possibly two, it wasn’t enough to carry the case through the deliberations.

  Jones broke the silence. “Come on. Bauer is full of hate. He must’ve killed Green. Green could’ve said the wrong thing, and then whack—Bauer hits him.”

  “Green didn’t look like a man that went down easily,” Hunter said. “And even though he was a minister, I bet Green could’ve taken Bauer in a fight. Green was punched head-on, which meant that he would’ve been outmuscled.”

  “Or maybe surprised.”

  Esther’s phone pinged.

  She looked at the notification.

  “Give me another day on Bauer. I’ll be able to find something else. I’ll ask Mrs. Nelson to help us. We’ve got Bauer as a racist, maybe we can find more information,” Jones stated.

  “This might help us.” Esther placed her phone on the table.

  “What is it?”

  “I followed Caylee Johnson on YouTube, and I set it up to receive notifications any time she left a comment on a video. Look at the latest video that she has commented on.”

  She brought up the information on the screen.

  “What does it say?” Jones squinted.

  “‘I’ve always watched these videos. They’re so inspiring. Thank you for sharing.’”

  “Are you sure this comment is from Caylee Johnson?” Hunter asked as he began to watch the video in question. The video was posted a year ago, with fifty thousand likes and five hundred comments.

  “I’m absolutely sure that comment is from Caylee Johnson,” Esther replied.

  Hunter stood. “Then we still have a chance to win this.”

  CHAPTER 44

  Chuck Johnson limped to the stand. His walk was uneasy, the cancer finally taking its last shots at his body. It had been a slow process, one that had been happening for many months. He first felt ill over a year ago but refused to see a doctor for another six months. Denial was his way of dealing with mortality.

  Even at the beginning, the illness didn’t feel normal; it was like a heavy hangover that never went away. The doctors suggested surgery, but he refused; he knew his time was up, and he wanted to go out on his terms. He regretted the decades of smoking a pack a day, but there was nothing more he could do about it now.

  After the murder of his wife, death became a long-term goal, a way out of his pain.

  He coughed through his oath and was still coughing when Law began her questioning. He coughed into his handkerchief, sounding like half his lung was coming up with it.

  “If you would like to take some time out—”

  “No. Go on,” he insisted, tucking his handkerchief away.

  Michelle Law began her questioning sitting down, reading from the laptop in front of her. She had spent the last hour going through the testimony with Chuck Johnson—after the angle of the case changed with Bauer’s testimony.

  “Can you please tell the court where you were on the night of February 1st?”

  “I was meeting with a person in the alley behind the Congress Hotel.”

  The comment caught the interest of the jury, who were all paying close attention to what was coming next.

  “Who were you meeting that night?”

  “Amos Anderson.”

  The courtroom erupted.

  “Murderer!” Green’s supporters shouted at Anderson. “Murderer!”

  “Order!” Judge Lockett slammed down his gavel. “Order! Order! Remove those people!”

  Law waited while Reverend Green’s supporters were ushered out of the courtroom, continuing to yell as they were taken out.

  Chuck smiled, Anderson shook his head repeatedly, and Hunter was sure that the testimony was nothing more than a lie; leverage to get him off the weapons charges.

  It was too convenient, too perfect, to be anything more than a lie.

  Hunter had established the connection between Bauer and the Johnson clan, and he was sure that a large amount of money would be transferred after this imaginary statement.

  Once the commotion in the court had died down, Law looked back at the witness.

  “Are you here because you’ve been given a deal to testify?” Law continued.

  “That’s correct.”

  Law wanted the information to come out in court before Hunter could use it to his advantage.

  “What’s the deal that you’ve accepted?”

  “I was arrested last week for having unlicensed w
eapons in my truck,” Chuck said as if he was proud of breaking the law. “I had two shotguns that were registered as stolen. I was given immunity for that charge if I made a testimony about what I saw that night.”

  A deal with the Devil.

  It hurt Law to have to work with the Johnson clan, but she knew that the Unlawful Possession of Weapons charge, even though his second arrest for the offense meant a class 3 felony, was nothing compared to this case. Although she was working with a racist, although she was working with a convicted felon, she felt like she was still in the right.

  Some wins come at a cost.

  “Why haven’t you come forward before?”

  “Because I wanted nothing to do with this. I wanted nothing to do with this court case.”

  “What exactly did you see that night?”

  Law swallowed hard as she read the notes, keeping her composure. She hated working with the scum that was Chuck Johnson; even without his racist ideals, she still would’ve hated working with the sleaze. His lingering eyes, his bad breath, and creepy smile didn’t win her over.

  But it was the racism that she hated most. She hated the fact that she was working with a man known to spread hate based on someone’s skin color. The State’s Attorney was reluctant to give him a deal, knowing how it would look to the public, but the State’s Attorney also knew that losing this case, letting Anderson go free, could cause a riot on the streets.

  Doing any deal with a felon was a risk, let alone a vocal racist, but they signed off on the deal with thoughts of the greater good.

  “I was alone, and I stood at the end of the alley, and I saw Amos Anderson walk into the alley next to Dural Green. When they were around thirty yards into the alley, I saw Anderson push Green to the ground and then hit him three times while he lay on the ground.”

  A jury member gasped. Another shook his head.

  “Did you intervene?”

  “No, I didn’t. It was none of my business.”

  “What happened after you watched Mr. Anderson beat Reverend Green on the ground?”

  “He began to walk away, and that’s when I left. I didn’t want Anderson to see me, even though he asked me to be there. I didn’t see Green walk away, but I assumed that he did. I didn’t know that he was dead at the time. I thought he would’ve gotten up and walked away, but it appears the black guy was weak—”