“Of course. I can’t tell them anything, of course.”
Michael looked nervous. “Are you ready for this? I have to say, I thought that you and I would have been meeting a lot more to go over trial strategy. I was disappointed that you haven’t called me more to come in. I thought that we’d go over cross-examination questions and would have gone over discovery and everything like that by now.”
I shrugged. “I got this. There was no need for the two of us to get together.”
“Do you treat all your clients like this?”
“Like what?”
“Ignore them before trial. I’ve been calling for weeks now, and I’ve come into your office to track you down, and I haven’t been able to get in touch with you. This is my life, Harper. My life.”
“I got this.” I didn’t have it, of course. I wasn’t going to, either. By the end of this proceeding, Michael was going to do the perp walk.
And I was finally going to be free.
“Are your parents here?” I asked him.
“No. They’re not. Why should they be?”
I shrugged. “I’m just curious.”
“All rise,” the bailiff announced. “God save the State of Missouri and this honorable court.”
At that, Judge Graham took her place at the bench. “You may be seated,” she said. “Ms. Todd, you may address the jury with your opening statement.”
“Thank you, your honor.” April walked over to the jury and began. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I want you to tell the story about an honorable man, Judge Robert Sanders. He was an excellent judge and an excellent family man. During his time on the bench as a federal district court judge, he consistently was a man for the people. He delivered justice for the little guys, the Davids who were taking on the Goliaths. He always loved the Davids, because he was one of them. He knew them. He took his job very seriously and he loved what he did. He was about justice first, last and always.”
April hung her head, walked away from the jury box and then came back. “Justice first, last and always. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the federal judiciary lost a shining light. A beacon of justice. On October 19 of this year, that light was cruelly snuffed by the defendant, Michael Reynolds. You will hear evidence in this case that Mr. Reynolds was found at the scene of the crime, standing over the body of his father-in-law. You will hear evidence that, prior to the actual murder, Judge Sanders was being slowly poisoned. His life drained away, agonizingly, day by day, hour by hour. You will hear evidence that Mr. Reynolds had special access to Judge Sanders, in that he, and he alone, filled Judge Sanders’ pill boxes, which gave him opportunity to poison Judge Sanders’ orange juice. You will hear evidence that Mr. Reynolds had motive to kill Judge Sanders, as Mr. Reynolds was carrying on multiple affairs, and Judge Sanders had threatened to tell his daughter, who Mr. Reynolds was married to, about these affairs. You will hear evidence that if Christina Sanders, the daughter of Judge Sanders, divorced Mr. Reynolds that Mr. Reynolds would have been left penniless. You will hear evidence that Mr. Reynolds has a violent past. Finally, you will hear evidence that directly ties Mr. Reynolds to the murder weapon.”
As she spoke, she walked back and forth, looking each and every juror in the eye. “Mr. Reynolds murdered Judge Sanders in cold blood. In cold blood.” She shook her head. “And, in so doing, he deprived this world of a generous and just man. Thank you.”
She sat down.
“Ms. Ross,” Judge Graham said to me. “Please present the jury with your opening statement.”
I stood up. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the prosecutor was absolutely right. Judge Sanders was a man of enormous stature. A generous man who found for the plaintiff against the defendant more often than any other judge in the Western District of Missouri. By an order of magnitude. If you were a plaintiff, you wanted to draw Judge Sanders, because he cared. He cared very much for the little guy.”
I walked over to my table and then walked back to the jury box. “My client did not kill Judge Sanders. He called the police from the scene of the crime. He wouldn’t have done that if he had killed the judge. Thank you very much.”
At that, I sat down.
Michael put his hand on my arm. “That’s it?” he hissed. “That’s the only opening statement you’re going to make? Why didn’t you talk about what your evidence is going to show and all that?”
“Method to my madness,” I whispered.
Actually, there was no method. I just had to go through the motions. I had to make some kind of showing for the Missouri Bar when the inevitable complaint came down the pike.
“There better be,” he said. “And what’s up with her calling me a violent guy? She can’t say that.”
I grimaced. “I’ll object when she brings that in,” I said.
“It’s already in. It’s in the opening statement. Why didn’t you object?”
“I don’t object to opening statements. It’s bad form.”
“It’s worse form to allow something like that to go unchallenged.”
Judge Graham was glaring at the two of us as we whispered back and forth to each other. “Ms. Ross, please. If you need to have a conference with your client, then I’ll call a recess.”
“No, your honor, that will not be necessary,” I said. I turned to Michael. “Please be quiet.”
I looked in his eyes and I saw that he was ready to blow a gasket. I smiled, knowing that the jury was watching him, and, if I could get him to lose his temper, all the better.
“Call your first witness, Ms. Todd,” she said.
“The state calls Officer Chris Murphy,” she said.
Office Murphy was the cop on the scene. I sat up, because I had a feeling that the case was about to fall apart right in front of my eyes. At least, I hoped that it would. I really didn’t want to sit next to my client any longer than I had to.
Then again, this guy probably wasn’t going to be the one who was going to sink Michael. It was going to be forensic guy who would testify that the gloves that belonged to Michael perfectly matched the glove print that was found on the gun. After I received the forensic analysis on Michael’s gloves, which perfectly matched the glove print that was found on the murder weapon, I sent that analysis over to the prosecutor as a part of the discovery documents that she had requested from me.
Of course, if I cared to object to the prosecutor using that analysis, I certainly could have. I could object to lack of foundation. I could object to chain of evidence.
Yet, I knew that the prosecutor was going to bring that evidence in, and I wasn’t going to object. I was going to let her do it. And that was going to be the smoking gun that was going to reduce Michael’s case to a rancid pile of rubble.
At least, that was the hope. And my prayer.
April swore Officer Murphy in and asked the basic questions about his name, rank, etc.
“You were the officer that was the first responder, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Who called 911 in this case?”
“Mr. Reynolds,” he said, pointing to Michael.
“Mr. Reynolds called 911,” April said knowingly. “And please tell the ladies and gentlemen of the jury about what you found when you arrived at the scene.”
“I found the deceased on the floor of the kitchen. He had been shot twice, once through the head and once through the chest. And Mr. Reynolds was sitting down on the couch, waiting for us to arrive.”
“And what was Mr. Reynolds’ demeanor at this time?”
“He was calm. In fact, when he called 911, he was calm then, too. That was what the dispatcher told me.”
That was hearsay, full stop, but I let it pass. Because I let it pass, Michael nudged me, but I shrugged my shoulders.
“By calm, what do you mean? Explain to the ladies and gentlemen of the jury what you mean by that.”
“He was sitting on the couch eating a piece of chicken,” he said. “He had a piece of chicken on the coffee table
in front of him. I asked him what he was doing, and he said that he was having a snack while he waited for us to arrive.”
I suppressed a smile. I hadn’t heard this part yet. Somehow that chicken was going to make an appearance. I just didn’t know that it would make its appearance in quite this way.
“He’s lying,” Michael whispered. “Lying. I wasn’t calmly eating a piece of chicken. He’s making me look like a sociopath.”
I realized then that Michael was right. The Officer was lying about Michael calmly eating a piece of chicken. He specifically told me that the only reason why he arrested Michael was because Michael was on the scene. Not that Michael was on the scene and acting like a sociopath by calmly eating chicken while his father-in-law’s body was in the kitchen.
Still, it was an entertaining story, so I let it go.
“Sitting on the couch eating a piece of chicken. Sitting on the couch eating a piece of chicken,” April said. She nodded her head. “What else caused you to believe that Mr. Reynolds was perfectly calm?”
“Just his body language. He was sitting on the couch, but he was slouched on the couch. As if he was just getting ready to watch television or something. I had to ask him to stand up so that I could question him, because he suggested to me that I should have a seat next to him to ask my questions. It was very odd.”
“Lying, lying, lying,” Michael whispered.
“Odd,” April said. She nodded again and paced. “Odd. What happened when you questioned him?”
“He told me that he was out getting fried chicken and he came back and found that Judge Sanders had been killed.”
“I see. And was his story believable?”
Michael nudged me. “Object to that. It calls for speculation.”
I just sat there and I heard Michael start to breathe heavily.
“No,” Officer Murphy said in answer to April’s question about whether Michael’s story was believable.
“No. And why wasn’t his story believable?”
“Because my partner, Howard Flynn, was outside speaking with the neighbors. There were neighbors on the street, because they heard the gunshots, and they all said that Mr. Reynolds car had been in the driveway for the past hour. That was unusual, because Mr. Reynolds said that he had been getting fried chicken, and that he called 911 immediately after he got into the house. That contradicted the witness statements.”
I looked up at Judge Graham, who was staring right at me.
Michael, for his part, was nudging me hard the entire time that this witness was speaking. “Hearsay, hearsay, hearsay. Where are you? And he’s lying about that. My car wasn’t there in the driveway for an hour. Not at all.”
Yeah, it was hearsay. It was double hearsay, really. This cop was quoting his partner, who, in turn, was reporting on what the neighbors were saying. I was sure that April was delighted that I was allowing all this to come in, because it made her job that much easier.
As for the fact that the cop was lying…so be it. Let him lie. I wasn’t going to cross-exam him very hard. I knew that the cop was lying, because he told me that he arrested Michael simply because he was on the scene. I remembered that when I spoke with Officer Murphy. He certainly didn’t say a word about the neighbors stating that Michael’s car was parked in the driveway for an hour. That would have been significant, and it would have been in the police report. So, Michael was right - Officer Murphy was lying. But it was a good story, and this testimony made it look like they really had a reason to arrest Michael, so I let it pass.
The judge banged her gavel. “I need to call a recess,” she said. “To speak with counsel. I’m very sorry, Officer Murphy. I will have to excuse you, but I don’t want you to go too far. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you are also excused. Thank you.”
The jury left, as did the witness. I closed my eyes knowing what was coming.
“Ms. Ross, Ms. Todd,” Judge Graham said to us. “Please come back to my chambers.”
I sighed, knowing that I was about to get my ass handed to me. I also knew that I was going to have to start trying just a little bit harder.
The three of us went back to her chambers.
“Sit down,” she said to the two of us.
We both sat down.
“Ms. Todd, I don’t know what you’re doing,” Judge Graham said. “You obviously didn’t prep your witness before he sat down at that stand. He committed double hearsay and your question about whether his story was believable calls for a conclusion. Not to mention the fact that you brought up, in your opening statement, that Mr. Reynolds has a history of violence. This isn’t your first rodeo, Ms. Todd, so I don’t know why you are so unprepared.”
April looked embarrassed. As for myself, I braced myself for the judge laying into me.
I didn’t have to wait long.
“And Ms. Ross, you’re not doing your job at all here. We’re here in chambers discussing this for one reason – you aren’t objecting when you’re supposed to. I can’t protect your client, Ms. Ross, from hearsay accusations and from character assassinations. You must do that. Now, this is a warning to the both of you – Ms. Todd, you need to rein in your witnesses. You know better than that. And Ms. Ross, you need to object. I’m not going to stand for much more of this. If the two of you don’t want me to call a mistrial, then I suggest that you both start acting more professionally.”
“I will your honor,” I said. “I’m very sorry.”
“I’m sorry too, your honor,” April said.
At that, the three of us walked back into the courtroom.
I was slapped down, so I knew that I was going to have to take a different tact.
Everybody filed back in, and the Officer Murphy was seated at the witness stand once again. “I’ll remind you that you’re still under oath,” Judge Graham told Officer Murphy.
“Now, Officer Murphy, you said that you arrived at the scene, and the defendant was eating a piece of chicken and he calmly asked you to join him on the couch. Was there any other behavior that the defendant exhibited that seemed odd do you or out of place?”
“Well, just the fact that I asked him questions and he answered them in a calm voice the entire time seemed abnormal to me. I asked him about where he was that evening, and he calmly said that he was getting fried chicken. And then he got up and got the cardboard container of chicken to show me and he smiled when he did that. He kept making jokes, too, about his father-in-law. Inappropriate jokes.” Officer Jackson shook his head. “Mind you, all of this was happening as the body of his father-in-law was still in the kitchen.”
“He’s lying again,” Michael said. “I wouldn’t make jokes like that. You better cross-examine him hard.”
“What kind of inappropriate jokes did Mr. Reynolds make in front of you?” April asked Officer Murphy.
“I don’t remember exactly, I only remember thinking that it was odd that he was making jokes.” He put his hand on his chin. “Oh, yes, I do remember one. He asked me what I would call 100 judges chained together at the bottom of the ocean. I told him I didn’t know, and he said ‘a good start.’”
I inwardly groaned. Of all the dumb jokes the Officer could have come up with, and he told that one. That particular one. That was the dumbest and oldest one in the book. Anyhow, he told it wrong. It was supposed to be 100 lawyers chained together at the bottom of the ocean, not judges. Everybody loved judges. Everybody hated lawyers. That was the whole point of the joke.
“Lying, lying, lying.” Michael’s voice sounded frantic and hysterical.
“So, Mr. Reynolds told you that he was out getting chicken and came home to find his father-in-law shot dead. Did you take him into custody right there at the home?” April asked.
“Yes.”
“What gave you probable cause to make an arrest?”
“The fact that he was there at the scene and that he was acting odd. He wasn’t acting like most people do who are in this situation.”
I reluctantly stood up. “Mot
ion to strike. Witness stated a conclusion.”
“Sustained.” Judge Graham smiled at me and nodded. Her eyes said atta girl. Keep it up.
I inwardly rolled my eyes. I didn’t want to lift a damn finger in this case, but I was going to have to. To avoid a mistrial, I was going to have to.
“When you took him down to the police station, how was he acting in the transport over?”
“He kept making jokes to us in the backseat. And chatting to us about his day.” He shook his head. “He didn’t say a word to us about the fact that his father-in-law was murdered. Not a single word. He seemed to want to speak with us about anything else but what had happened to the deceased.”
“Lying,” Michael said.
“And how did he react when he was brought in for questioning?” April asked.
“He was smiling broadly and laughing. In fact, when his mug shot was taken, he was smiling in that photograph.”
“That’s really a lie. You can see in my mug-shot that I wasn’t smiling at all.”
That was true. I saw the mug-shot, and Michael really wasn’t smiling. I inwardly shrugged and tried to let it go.
“One more thing. Did you recover the murder weapon at the scene?”
“I did not.”
“Was the murder weapon recovered?”
“It was.”
“Tell me, using your own knowledge, how you came to know that the murder weapon was recovered?”
“A gun was found in the city landfill. Our officers searched for it for three weeks. This gun was the weapon that was used in this murder, because it was matched with the bullets that were found in the judge.”
I nodded my head, knowing that the forensic guy who matched the gun with the bullet was going to be called. I could cross-examine that guy, but I wasn’t going to very hard. This forensic guys knew their stuff, so if that gun from the landfill was matched with the bullets found in the judge, then that was the gun, all right.
“I have nothing further,” April said and sat down.
My heart was pounding, as I realized that I had to question this guy just enough to avoid a mistrial and a Bar complaint, and not so much that my client suddenly started looking sympathetic. I was going to have to walk a fine line, which was made complicated by the fact that I wasn’t prepared for this cop’s testimony. He told me, when I went down to the station, that he arrested Michael simply because he was on the scene. I wasn’t prepared for him to lie like he was doing on the stand.
Harper Ross Legal Thrillers vol. 1-3 Page 60
