“Ladies and gentlemen, we have police procedures in place to prevent deadly shoot-outs like the one that happened on the night of May tenth.
“Those procedures weren’t made up after this tragic incident occurred. They’re time-tested and have been in effect for decades for a reason. Every cop alive knows that you approach a suspect vehicle with your gun drawn so as to show the person you’re approaching that you mean business.
“And you disarm suspects so that no one gets hurt.”
Broyles walked over to his table and drank from a tall glass of water. I wanted to jump up and call him out on his perversion of the truth, but instead I watched in silence as he turned toward the cameras before walking back to the jury, all of whom seemed transfixed by what he was saying.
“Sam and Sara Cabot were young, cocky kids, and they took liberties with the law. They borrowed their dad’s car without permission, and they fled from a police pursuit. They lacked maturity and they lacked good judgment. What that means to me is that despite their intelligence, they needed more protection than adults would have needed in a similar situation.
“And Lieutenant Boxer failed to provide that protection because she didn’t follow the most basic police procedures. She decided to ‘serve and protect’ when she was intoxicated.
“As a result of that decision, an exceptional young woman is dead, and a young man who could have been anything he wanted to be is going to sit in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.”
Mason Broyles pressed his hands together, adopting a prayerlike pose, and, damn it, it was moving. He took a deep breath and released it, nearly sighing his sorrowful conclusion to the jury.
“We can’t bring Sara Cabot back,” he said. “And you’ve seen what’s left of Sam’s life. Our legal system can’t reverse the damage done to these children, but you are empowered to compensate Sam Cabot and his parents for their loss and suffering.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask you please to do the right thing and find for my client in the amount of one hundred fifty million dollars.
“Don’t just do it for the Cabot family.
“Do it for your family and mine, for every family and every person in this city of ours.
“Finding the defendant guilty is the only way we can make sure a tragedy like this one never happens again.”
Chapter 101
YUKI CLOSED HER NOTEBOOK and stepped out onto the courtroom floor. She turned her lovely face to the jury and greeted them. I clasped my hands tightly together and tried to think past Mason Broyles’s powerful closing speech.
“This is a very emotional case,” Yuki said. “On the one hand, we have a tragedy that will remain with the Cabot family forever.
“On the other hand, a damned good cop has been unfairly accused of causing this incident.
“Because this case is so emotional, because the Cabot kids are and were so young, I want to state the facts again, because your job is to decide this case based on facts, not emotion.
“It’s a fact that if a cop wants to have a couple of margaritas on a Friday night when she’s off duty, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Cops are people, too. And while police officers are there for the public twenty-four hours a day, it would have been perfectly okay for Lieutenant Boxer to have told Inspector Jacobi that she was busy.
“But this officer cared intensely about her work and went beyond the call of duty, and in so doing she put herself in harm’s way.
“You’ve heard the plaintiffs say over and over again that Lieutenant Boxer was drunk. In fact, she was not intoxicated. And while her alcohol consumption may have been a condition of this incident, it was not the cause.
“Please don’t lose sight of this distinction.
“Lieutenant Boxer did not make any errors of judgment on the night of May tenth because her reactions were slow or her thinking was faulty. If Lieutenant Lindsay Boxer did anything wrong that night, it was because she showed too much compassion for the plaintiffs.
“The two people who were the cause of the death and injuries to Sara and Sam Cabot were the Cabot children themselves. The fact is that two young, spoiled, rich kids had nothing better to do on the night in question than go out and cause injury and misery to other people and eventually to themselves.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Sam and Sara Cabot caused the events of May tenth with their reckless behavior and with their use of deadly force. They introduced deadly force into this affair, not Lieutenant Boxer. And that is a crucial fact.”
Yuki paused, and for a terrible second, I thought she might have forgotten where her closing statement was headed. She lifted her pearls from the front of her silk blouse and ran her fingers over them, then she turned back to the jury, and I realized she was simply gathering her thoughts.
“Usually when a cop goes on trial it’s a Rodney King- or Abner Louima-type affair. A cop pulled the trigger too quickly or beat the hell out of someone, or abused his or her authority.
“Lindsay Boxer is being accused of doing just the opposite. She holstered her gun because the Cabot children seemed helpless and in fact they were in danger. And the plaintiffs want to turn her humanity toward these children into a ‘failure to follow police procedures.’
“Forgive me, but this is bull.
“Lieutenant Boxer followed procedures when she approached the car in question with her gun drawn. Then, based on the visible injuries to Sam Cabot, she rendered aid to the victims of a car accident.
“That was the right thing to do.
“Inspector Jacobi, another damned good cop, with over twenty-five years on the SFPD, did the same thing. You heard him. He holstered his gun. After he and Lieutenant Boxer freed the Cabot kids from their vehicle, he tried to get them medical assistance.
“Isn’t this the kind of behavior we all want from our police force? If you were in an accident? If these had been your kids?
“But instead of thanking these officers, the Cabot children fired guns at them with intent to kill. Sam kicked Inspector Jacobi in the head after he’d been shot. Was their vicious and potentially lethal aggression caused by the use of drugs? Or were they just bent on murder?
“We don’t know.
“But we do know that Lieutenant Boxer was shot first and that she returned fire in self-defense. That’s a fact. And defending herself, ladies and gentlemen, is ‘proper police procedure.’
“Lieutenant Boxer told you she’d give anything in the world to have Sara Cabot alive today and for this young man to have the full use of his body.
“But the fact is, the events of May tenth did not happen because of a fire that Lindsay Boxer set. She tried to put that fire out.”
I felt a rush of gratitude that almost spilled from my eyes. My God, to be defended with such heart and eloquence. I bit my lower lip and watched Yuki as she finished her summation.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. You’ve been very patient this week through a lot of testimony and harassment from the media. I know you are looking forward to your deliberation.
“We ask that you find Lieutenant Lindsay Boxer guilty of being the kind of cop we should all be proud of: a compassionate, dedicated, selfless officer of the law.
“And we ask that you find her innocent of the outrageous charges that have been brought against her.”
Chapter 102
“WHAT DO YOU SAY we go out the front door today?” Mickey said, taking my arm. “It’s Friday. The case will be on hold throughout the weekend and that makes me think this is a good time to ‘meet the press.’”
I walked between my attorneys into the hallway and from there down the marble stairs and out onto McAllister. The corner of the Civic Center Courthouse is cut on an angle so that the building faces kitty-corner onto the wide intersection and the manicured park across from Civic Center Plaza.
By contrast to the dark of the courthouse, the sunshine was blinding. And, as it had been since the beginning of my trial, McAllister was so jammed, I couldn’t see
over the press and the satellite vans that were lining the curb.
It was like the scene outside the O. J. Simpson courtroom. The same kind of adrenaline-fueled madness that masked the truth, whatever that might be. This trial wasn’t worthy of the world stage. The media exposure was all about viewership, ratings, advertising dollars. Be that as it may, today I was “it.”
Like hounds on a rabbit, the press saw me and closed in for the kill. Mickey was ready with his statement, but he never got to deliver it.
“How long do you think the jury will be out, Mr. Sherman?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure, however long it takes, the jury will find Lieutenant Boxer innocent of all charges.”
“Lieutenant Boxer, if the jury finds against you —”
“That’s unlikely to happen,” Yuki answered for me.
“Ms. Castellano, this is your first high-profile case. How do you think you did?”
Fifteen feet away, a crowd was also forming around Mason Broyles, his clients, and his deputies. Film rolled as the medical attendant moved Sam Cabot down a wooden ramp and loaded him into a van. Reporters followed, firing questions at Sam as his father did his best to shield the boy.
I picked Cindy out of the crowd. She was shouldering through the sardine can-packed bodies, trying to get closer to me. And that’s why I wasn’t paying much attention to Mickey when he answered his cell phone.
Then his hand was on my shoulder. His face was totally gray.
“I just got a heads-up from the clerk’s office,” he shouted into my ear. “The jury has a couple of questions.”
We pressed through the crowd, making our way to the street and Mickey’s waiting car. Yuki and I got into the backseat, and Mickey got in front beside his driver.
“What did they want to know?” Yuki asked as soon as the doors closed. The car moved slowly through the crowd, heading toward Redwood.
“They want to see the evidence of Lindsay’s alcohol intake,” Mickey said, turning to face us.
“Christ,” Yuki said. “How could they still be stuck on that?”
“What else?” I asked urgently. “You said there were two things.”
I saw Mickey hesitate. He didn’t want to tell me, but he had to do it.
“They wanted to know if there was a limit on how much money they could award the plaintiffs,” he said.
Chapter 103
IT WAS A GUT shot, and the shock resonated from my solar plexus throughout my body. I felt my stomach drop and bile rise into my throat. I had envisioned losing this case in terms of a fanciful, theoretical aftermath: working at street fairs, reading books on the deck of some beach house, la-de-da. But I hadn’t taken into account the full emotional impact of the reality of losing.
Beside me, Yuki squealed, “Oh, my God, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have said ‘find her guilty of being a good cop, blah blah.’ It was a flourish! I thought it was good, but I was wrong.”
“You did a great job,” I said, my voice as heavy as stone. “This has nothing to do with what you said.”
I wrapped my arms around myself and lowered my head. Mickey and Yuki were talking together. I heard Mickey assure her that the fat lady hadn’t yet sung, but the voice in my mind was a needle stuck in an old-fashioned record groove.
One question kept repeating.
How could this be?
How could this be?
Chapter 104
WHEN I TUNED BACK in to the conversation in the car, Mickey was explaining something to Yuki.
“The judge gave them the paperwork from the hospital and the transcript from the nurse. And she told them not to worry about limiting the award. That’s her job and need not concern them.”
Mickey ran his hand over his face in what I took to be exasperation. “Yuki, you did a fantastic job, I mean it. I can’t believe that the jury bought Mason Broyles’s act,” he said. “I just don’t believe it. I don’t know how we could have done better.”
And that’s when Yuki’s cell phone rang.
“The jury is back,” she said. She folded her phone, clutching it until her knuckles whitened. “They have a verdict.”
My mind spaced. I saw the word verdict in front of my eyes and tried to parse it, looking between the letters and syllables for something to hope for. I knew from past days in court that the Latin roots of the word verdict meant to speak the truth.
Would this verdict be the truth?
In the minds of the people of San Francisco, it would be.
Mickey directed his driver to turn around, which he did, and a few minutes later I was saying, “No comment, no comment, please,” and following Yuki and Mickey through the mob, up the steep stairs, and into the courthouse once again.
We took our places in courtroom B, and the opposition took theirs.
I heard my name pierce the moment as if it had come from another time and place. I turned to look behind me.
“Joe!”
“I just got in, Lindsay. I came straight from the airport.”
We reached out and for a brief moment entwined our fingers across the shoulders of the people sitting behind me. Then I had to let go and turn away.
Along the sides of the room, cameramen focused their lenses, then, only an hour since we’d left this room, the judge entered from her chambers and the jury filled the jury box.
The bailiff called the court back into session.
Chapter 105
IT TOOK THE MEMBERS of the jury long moments to fix their skirts, put down their bags, and get comfortable in their seats. Finally, they were at attention. I noticed that only two of them had looked at me.
I listened numbly as the judge asked the jury if they’d arrived at the verdict. Then the foreman, a fifty-something African American man named Arnold Benoit, straightened the lines of his sport jacket and spoke.
“We have, Your Honor.”
“Please pass your verdict to the bailiff.”
Across the aisle, Sam Cabot’s breathing quickened, as did mine, keeping double time along with my pounding heart as the judge opened the single sheet of paper.
She scanned it and, without expression, passed it back to the bailiff, who returned it to the jury foreman.
“I caution the audience not to react to whatever the foreman says,” said the judge. “All right, Mr. Foreman. Please pronounce the verdict.”
The foreman took his glasses out of his jacket pocket, flipped them open, and set them on his nose. At last, he began to read.
“We, the jury in the above-entitled action, find the accused, Lieutenant Lindsay Boxer, not guilty of the charges against her.”
“So say you all?”
“We do.”
I was so numb, I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly. And when I played the statement back in my mind, I half expected the judge to overrule what the foreman had just said.
Yuki grasped my wrist tightly, and only when I saw the smile lighting her face did I fully realize that I wasn’t imagining anything. The jury had found in my favor.
A voice shouted, “No! No! You can’t do this!”
It was Andrew Cabot, on his feet, holding on to the chair-back in front of him where Mason Broyles sat, white-faced and grim, and beaten.
Broyles’s request that the jury be polled was a demand, and the judge complied.
“As you hear your seat number called, please tell the court how you voted,” said Judge Achacoso.
One at a time the jurors spoke.
“Not guilty.”
“Not guilty.”
“Not guilty . . .”
I had heard the expression, but I’m not sure I understood it until that moment. With both my attorneys’ arms around me, I floated in a feeling of relief so complete it was a dimension of its own. Perhaps this feeling was reserved only for moments of redemption, moments like this.
I was free, and my heart took flight.
Part Five
The Cat’s Meow
Chapter 106
THERE
WAS A MOODY gray sky overhead when Martha and I left my apartment and headed out of San Francisco. I turned on the car radio and caught the weather report, listening with half an ear as I negotiated the stop-and-go snarl of the usual commuter traffic.
As I bumped along Potrero Street, I was thinking about Chief Tracchio. Yesterday, when we’d met at the Hall of Justice, he’d asked me to come back to work, and I’d gotten as flustered as if he’d asked me for a date.
4th of July (2005) Page 18
