McDowell turned to the remainder of the panel. “Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for your service.”
The judge was hurrying to excuse the remaining members of the jury panel when Jack got to his feet. “Your Honor, we need to approach the bench.”
McDowell knew what Jack was about to do. He had seen the same thing and was trying to get rid of the panel before Jack could make an objection, knowing that by then it would be too late. Obviously, Jack thought, I still don’t have a level playing field.
“Very well, Mr. Bryant. Approach, Counsel.”
At the bench and out of the hearing of the jury, Jack said, “Your Honor, the Batson case, decided by the United States Supreme Court, makes it quite clear that when one party is a minority, the other side cannot strike jurors of the same race without a showing of some other basis besides race as a reason. Mr. Leyton has struck five African Americans. I’ve checked their jury cards and my notes, and there’s no basis other than race. We formally challenge.”
Leyton was now obligated to give some reason other than race for his challenges. The problem was that while Leyton was a seasoned trial lawyer, he had gotten to that stage of his career where he took very few notes and just winged it in court. He figured that his reputation and powers of persuasion could carry the day. This time he was in trouble. He really had struck those five jurors because he thought they would lean toward June Davis as a member of their own race. He fumbled through his copy of the jury cards.
“Your Honor, I struck Juror 2 because he worked as a truck driver and William Davis sometimes drove a truck to pick up and deliver parts. I struck Juror 19 because her daughter works as a maid and Ms. Davis did that at one time. I struck Juror 12 because…”
McDowell looked to the back of the courtroom and saw Hampton making notes. He had no choice in this ruling. He interrupted Leyton. “Look, Mr. Leyton, so far your explanations do not overcome a Batson challenge. Unless you’ve got better reasons for the other three, I’m going to do something I’ve rarely had to do. I could declare a mistrial and start all over, but that will waste all of our time. I’m going to excuse the jury to the hall and give you another opportunity to make your challenges. I strongly suggest that race not be used as a factor. Frankly, Mr. Leyton, I’m disappointed in you. A lawyer of your stature should know it’s going to raise red flags when you have an African American plaintiff and you strike five of her race. You have twenty minutes. I’ll be in my chambers. Bailiff, let me know when we’re ready to proceed again.”
After the jury panel was excused for the second time, Jack explained to his team what he had done and why they were delaying.
June beamed her approval. “Thank you, Mr. Bryant. I was worried when I only saw one black face in that box. I grew up in the days of separate black schools, separate water fountains, riding on the back of the bus. Some of those racist feelings die hard.”
When Jack saw Hampton motioning to him from the rail, he walked over.
“Jack, you don’t have to tell me what happened. Let me guess. I saw that Leyton struck five African Americans. You called his hand on it, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did. Surprisingly enough the judge went along with me. Leyton has twenty minutes to re-think his strikes.”
Hartley let out a low whistle that drew a shake of the head from the bailiff.
The judge decided not to explain what had happened to the jury. There would be no way to do so without impugning the character of either Dwayne Allison or Ace Leyton. Only this time when the final panel was called to the jury box there were four African Americans, two Hispanics and six Anglos, a much better representation of the ethnic mix in Tarrant County. Jack nodded his satisfaction as the jurors took their place.
78
Jack rose from his table and took a position in front of the jury. He leaned slightly on his cane. “My client, June Davis, was married to Willie for fifty-three years. They were wealthy people, not in terms of dollars because they had little. Their wealth came from their love, their three children, eight grandchildren and their relationship with God through the Greater Mt. Zion Baptist Church.”
Leyton rose to object that this should be saved for closing argument, thought better of it and sat down.
“June worked off and on, cleaning houses. Willie spent the last twenty years of his work life as a porter for Allison Cadillac. He made $20,000 in his last year before his retirement. That was fifteen years ago. He was killed in a tragic accident while he was fishing near his home. June and the kids buried him and went on with their lives.”
Jack heard quiet sobbing and looked over to see June reaching in her purse for a handkerchief.
“A few months later June got a letter from the post office, enclosing a check for $400,000 in life insurance proceeds. The check was made payable to Allison Southwest.
She never knew that Allison had put a large life insurance policy on her husband or that Allison kept paying premiums for fifteen years after he retired. It was a dead peasant policy.”
Leyton leaped to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor,” he almost yelled. “He’s intentionally violating the court’s prior ruling.”
McDowell glared at Jack. “Approach.”
When both lawyers were at the bench, McDowell kept his voice low but chewed on Jack. “You have intentionally violated my ruling. You will not do that again or there will be sanctions. Understood?”
“Sorry, Your Honor. It just slipped out.”
“Return to your places.” McDowell turned to the jury. “That last comment will be stricken from the record and you will be instructed to disregard it. Proceed, Mr. Bryant.”
Jack returned to face the jury, thinking of something an old lawyer had told him years ago. Once the cow’s peed in the milk, you can’t strain it out. No way the jury’s going to forget about dead peasants.
In the back of the room, Hampton smiled. Now that the term had been used, he had the lead for tomorrow morning’s story.
Jack decided to cut his opening short. He had made his point. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m going to give you back some of the twenty minutes I was allocated for opening. Suffice it to say that when June learned about the life insurance policy, she asked Mr. Allison to pay the proceeds of the policy to her as his widow. He refused. We’re here because Dwayne Allison and Allison Southwest intentionally profited from the death of Willie Davis, and we expect them to pay for it.” Jack thanked the jury for their time and sat down.
Leyton rose and paced up and down in front of the jury twice, his hands in his pants pockets. “William Davis signed an employment agreement over thirty years ago. In that agreement he authorized Allison Southwest to take out insurance on his life. My client did so and paid the premiums on it for all those years. It was not an issue until he died. Now this lawyer is telling you that his client should be unjustly enriched by the proceeds from a policy that she never paid one red cent for.”
Leyton was very careful to lay the blame on the lawyer he wanted to paint as greedy, not the widow, particularly since there were now four African Americans on the jury.
“On top of that, he wants to treble the $400,000 and punish my client when he did nothing wrong. The evidence will show that Dwayne Allison and his company kept their agreement with William Davis and are entitled to the proceeds from the policy. Thank you.”
Judge McDowell looked at the clock on the back wall. “I apologize, ladies and gentlemen. I’ve worked you through your lunch hour, but I wanted to get you in the box and get opening statements done so we could keep this case moving. Let’s take an hour for lunch. Bailiff, please escort the jury to their room.”
Once the jury was gone, Colby pulled ham sandwiches from a bag in one of the boxes. “Here, I made these this morning. Can I get sodas?”
“Water’s fine,” Jack said. “Thanks for the sandwiches. How are we doing?”
“Everything looks good to me. Why did Leyton try to strike so many African Americans?”
“My guess is that it
wasn’t his idea but Allison’s. Looks like Leyton’s letting Allison call some of the shots. Bad mistake, particularly for an experienced lawyer. There can only be one lead dog in a trial, and it can’t be the client. Leyton must be getting a lot of heat from Allison about something.” Jack turned to June who was quietly eating half of her sandwich. “June, you’ll be the first witness this afternoon. We have to go through all of those documents. You’ll be on the stand for the rest of the day. You okay with that?”
“I’ll be fine, Mr. Bryant. I’d just like a bottle of water up there with me. I’ve handled Mr. Leyton once. No reason I can’t do it again.”
79
After being sworn by the court reporter, June took the stand and smiled at the jury. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” she said without prompting.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Davis,” twelve voices replied.
Damn, thought Jack, she’s going to be good.
“Tell the jury a little about yourself, June.”
June turned to look at the jury. “I’m seventy-five years young. I grew up in a rural part of north Denton County. Willie and I went through the fourth grade together before he had to drop out to help support his family. I made it to the eighth grade and would have liked to have gone to high school, but the Negro high school was fifteen miles away and I had no way to get there. Willie and I got married and had three children. We saved our money and bought a little two bedroom house with five acres. That’s where Willie planted his garden. Willie had a variety of odd jobs before getting on with Allison Cadillac where he stayed for about twenty years. Once my kids got a little older, I cleaned houses when I could. We managed to get by. Didn’t have much, but didn’t need much.”
Jack rose and stood behind his chair, leaning on his cane. “Judge, I just need to stretch my knee out a bit.” The judge nodded. In reality, Jack just wanted to keep the jury’s attention after lunch when he knew there was a risk of one or two dozing off.
“When did Willie retire from the Cadillac dealership?”
June looked out the window as she thought. “Must have been about fifteen years ago.”
“Did Willie get any pension?”
“No, sir. Got nothing but a key chain with his retirement date on it. After that he did get a little social security check every month, and we got by okay.”
“Now, June, I don’t want to upset you, but how did Willie die?”
Colby saw several of the jurors shift uncomfortably in their seats. One woman looked away, turning her head to the back of the room.
“He left early to go fishing at a creek near our house, same creek he’d been fishing in since he was a boy. He didn’t come home, and I sent Willie, Jr. looking for him. Willie, Jr. found him lying in a shallow part of the creek with his head bashed in. They said it was an accident, but I know my Willie and I know it wasn’t.”
“How did you learn about that life insurance policy that Allison took out on Willie?”
“First I knew of it was when I received a letter from the United States Post Office. It was an official letter.”
“June, let me interrupt. I’m handing you the original of that letter and putting a copy on the overhead. Can you read this paragraph here that I’m pointing out to the jury?”
“It says they’re sorry that a letter was mangled in their processing machine. My name was the only one legible on it. They located me and forwarded the letter, the mangled envelope and a check payable to Allison Southwest for $400,000. I called the person who signed the letter. He said they checked the Social Security website and found that my Willie had died recently. That’s how they tracked down our address and sent the sent the letter and check to me. The check says it’s in full payment of death benefits on the life of William Davis.”
Jack walked over to stand beside the jury and leaned against the rail. “What did you do with the check?”
“I took it to you, Mr. Bryant, and you said you would deliver it to Mr. Allison. I presume that you did.”
“Did Mr. Allison offer to pay you one penny out of that $400,000?
“No, sir. Not to this very day.
“June, I want to put up on the overhead an employment agreement. I’ll also hand you a copy. Have you seen that before?”
June studied her copy and turned each page carefully, then looked up.
“Yes, sir. I saw it in your office for the first time two, three months ago.”
“It’s four pages, single spaced. On the fourth page is a signature on a line that has William Davis typed underneath it. Can you identify that as Willie’s signature?”
June shook her head. “No, sir. Can I explain?’
Jack nodded.
“My Willie only went to the fourth grade. He wasn’t much for reading and writing. I told Mr. Leyton here that he may have signed a few things in his life, but I doubt if he knew what he was signing. I did all the bill paying. So the answer to your question is that I can’t identify that as Willie’s signature.”
Jack zoomed the camera into one paragraph on the last page. “You see this paragraph where it says that Allison Southwest can take out life insurance on Willie and keep it in force until he dies, whether or not he’s still employed.”
Several of the jurors squinted to read the fine print.
“Was your Willie capable of reading and understanding that paragraph?”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Leyton said as he stood. “Calls for an opinion she’s not qualified to make.”
“Judge,” Jack said. “She lived with him for fifty years. Certainly, there’s no one better qualified.”
McDowell again glanced at Hampton in the back of the courtroom. “Overruled, Mr. Leyton. Proceed.”
June looked at the jury. “No way he could understand all that legal talk.”
“And this section that says that you were to receive $10,000 on his death, did Mr. Allison ever send you a check in that amount?”
June looked at Allison. “You certainly did not, Mr. Allison, and you know it. Ten thousand dollars would have helped me bury my Willie. Instead, we had to take up a collection at the church to buy him a casket.”
Allison leaned over to Leyton and whispered, “Can I write her a check right now?”
Leyton shook his head.
Jack looked at the jury and found some of them to be visibly upset.
“One last series of questions, June. We provided Allison’s lawyer with a bunch of checks and income tax returns and so forth that you had stored in your garage. We know that a few of those for sure had Willie’s signature on them. Did you look at those?”
“Yes, sir, I certainly did,” June said, now with defiance in her voice.
“Did his signature on any of those documents look anything like the one on that so-called employment agreement of thirty or so years ago?
“They did not, Mr. Bryant.”
Jack looked at the jury and checked his notes. “Pass the witness, Your Honor.”
“Mrs. Davis,” Leyton began. “I want you to know how much Mr. Allison and I sympathize with you for the loss of your husband.”
Leyton was doing his best to come across as warm and caring.
“Thank you, Mr. Leyton.”
“Ma’am, I won’t be very long. First, did I understand that you never received a check for $10,000 from Allison Southwest after your husband passed?”
June straightened her back and looked at the jury. “No, I certainly did not.”
“Mr. Allison assures me that he’ll correct that oversight immediately,” Leyton said, syrup almost dripping from his mouth.
“Now, I want to put a couple of documents on the overhead. And I’m going to ask Mr. Fairchild to provide you with copies also. One is a tax return from back when Willie was working and you had to file them.”
Leyton put up one tax return and then blew up Willie’s signature. “You can see that all right, Mrs. Davis?”
“I can, thank you,” she said as she put on her distance glasses.
“Bear with me, Mrs. Davis. I’m using a little technology here, and I may mess it up.” Leyton fiddled with the overhead until he had the signature from the tax return blown up with the signature from the employment agreement below it. “You see some similarities, Mrs. Davis?”
June shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe one or two.”
“For example, you see the big “W” in William looks almost exactly the same, and the looping “D” looks like it was made by the same hand.”
June put her glasses down on the rail in front of her and looked at Leyton. “Sir, I’m not a handwriting specialist.”
“And one more thing, Mrs. Davis, let me see if I can do this right. I think I can superimpose one signature over the other.”
Leyton did so and the signatures were nearly a match. Two of the men on the back row noticed the similarities and nodded to one another. Without waiting for an answer, Leyton thanked Mrs. Davis and passed the witness.
Damn fine job, Jack thought. Now what do I do? He rose from his chair and walked with his cane in hand to stand beside the witness. “Approach the witness, Your Honor?”
“You may, counsel.”
“June, are you familiar with forgeries?”
June blinked her eyes and didn’t know how to answer.
“I mean, do you know that forgery has been around since the days of the ancient Egyptians, and in this age of identity theft, it’s even more rampant.”
June nodded her head, not sure what to say.
Jack turned and pointed his cane at the overhead. “If someone had forged your Willie’s signature to that document, say in the past year or two, would you have any way of knowing?”
June shook her head. “I suppose not, Mr. Bryant.”
“Nothing further, Judge.”
McDowell looked at the clock and said, “It’s a little before five, but I think it’s time to call it a day. I instruct you not to talk with anyone about these proceedings. Further, you are not to read anything in the paper about this case. If something about it shows up on television, turn the TV off. Understand?”
Dead Peasants Page 24
