Natural Justice: A Legal Thriller (Tex Hunter Legal Thriller Series Book 6)

by Peter O'Mahoney

  Justice does not see an innocent man put away for someone else’s crime. Justice does not seek revenge. Justice does not mean that you convict a man because you feel he’s guilty.

  The justice you’re here to seek, the true meaning of justice, is to be fair and unbiased in your judgment of the evidence. The facts. Not how you feel. Not what you think must’ve happened. But the facts. And when we arrive at the end of this case, the facts will be simple—there’s not enough evidence to convict Mr. Mitchell beyond a reasonable doubt.

  I need you to remember that as we go through this trial. You’re not looking at how you feel; you’re not thinking about your intuition. Your job, your very important job, is to judge the facts. Nothing more, and nothing less. You cannot use the way the defendant looks, his racial background, the way he acts, or a general vibe to guide your decision. You cannot guess. The prosecution must prove Mr. Mitchell murdered Mr. Townsend. They can’t merely suggest it. They must prove it.

  The prosecution’s case is a circumstantial one. That means the evidence relies on an inference to connect it to a conclusion. By contrast, direct evidence supports the truth of an assertion directly. There’s no direct evidence in this case. The prosecution’s case, and their so-called evidence, doesn’t even come close to the precious standard of reasonable doubt.

  In making your decision at the end of this case, the only evidence you can consider is the evidence presented during this trial. You cannot use evidence that isn’t presented in this courtroom. You cannot use something you heard on the radio, or saw in the paper. You cannot use your friend’s opinion.

  In making your decision, you must be unbiased. You must be impartial. And above all else, you must be fair.

  That’s the system our great country is built upon. That flag, the great and beautiful flag, represents the opportunity and fairness that are at the core of our beliefs.

  Don’t ruin what our forefathers have built.

  Mr. Mitchell did not murder Mr. Townsend.

  He didn’t meet with Mr. Townsend in Norwich Park that night. He didn’t hit Mr. Townsend in the park that night. He didn’t see Mr. Townsend in the park that night. During this case, we’ll present evidence that will show you that. Our experts will show you that the evidence presented by the prosecution is doubtful, at best. Our witnesses will tell you that Mr. Mitchell could not have killed Mr. Townsend.

  At this moment, Mr. Mitchell is innocent. That’s our starting point and the prosecution must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Mr. Mitchell committed this act. They must present evidence that convinces you beyond a reasonable doubt. They won’t be able to, of course, because there is simply not enough evidence to do so.

  When this case is drawing to a close, I’ll stand before you again and point out the ways in which the prosecution has failed to present enough evidence. At that point, you’ll use your common sense to make a decision. Your decision must be not guilty.

  Thank you for your service to our great justice system.”

  Chapter 23

  At five minutes past three, with the opening statements completed, Tanner was instructed by Judge Johnson to call his first witness. The adrenalized excitement of the opening statements had created unease in the crowd, and people were unable to sit still and contain their anger, pain, or grief. Even after a short recess, the seats in the courtroom remained full. Nobody wanted to give up their spot to watch the show of the year in Longford.

  Matthew Tanner wasted no time in calling his first witness. He stood at the prosecution table and called Police Chief Phillip Richardson, the third. Richardson walked to the stand as a proud man—his solid chest was puffed out, his shoulders were pulled back, and his chin was held high. He wore a black suit with a thin tie, white shirt, and brown shoes. He smelled like Old Spice. He presented an image of importance and competence, and more importantly for the jurors, dressed in a suit, he was presented as a trustworthy man, as untrue as the impression was. He’d walked to the stand many times over the past thirty-five years in the force, he knew the drill, and he knew what worked. Richardson went through the gate to the witness stand and was sworn in as routine demanded.

  Primacy and Recency Effects dictate that people are most likely to remember the first and last things they’re told. Presenting a strong first witness was essential to any prosecution case, and Richardson appeared as solid as they came. As Richardson swore his oath, Tanner scanned his laptop, reading over the lines and lines of notes, and then moved to the lectern near the jury to begin.

  “Chief Richardson, thank you for coming to court today.” Tanner opened as he moved a piece of paper on the lectern. “Can you please tell the court your profession, and your connection to this case?”

  “My name is Phillip Michael Richardson the third, and I’ve been proudly employed by the Longford Police Department for the past thirty-five years. I started there as a twenty-year-old. My oh my, how the years go by.” He smiled and looked to the jury. They responded to him with smiles. “Currently, I’m the Police Chief for the beautiful city of Longford, Illinois.” Richardson checked his tie was down the middle of his shirt. “And I was the lead detective on the investigation into Mr. Chad Townsend’s murder, and the subsequent arrest of Mr. Javier Mitchell.”

  “Chief Richardson, have you previously been the lead investigator on murder cases?”

  “I’ve lead the investigation a few times in my career. Perhaps as many as forty over the years I’ve been a police officer. I don’t like investigating murder cases, but it’s part of the job.”

  “Why don’t you like dealing with murder cases?”

  “Because murder cases mean I have to deal with murderers.” He looked at Javier. “And I especially don’t like dealing with dirty ones like—”

  “Objection.” Hunter rose to his feet before Richardson could finish the sentence. “The witness is about to make a statement of accusation. This witness is a Police Chief and someone with considerable authority in Longford, and he cannot be allowed to make accusations like that.”

  “Sustained,” Judge Johnson responded and turned to the witness. “Please keep to the facts, Phillip. You know better than that.”

  Richardson checked his tie again, and then turned back to Tanner. “Sorry. What I meant to say was that I don’t like dealing with murder cases because it’s quite overwhelming. You have to delve into parts of the city that can be dangerous, and there’s a lot of grief from the families of the deceased.”

  “Were you the first person to find Mr. Townsend’s bloodied body at the scene of the crime?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know who was?”

  “That was Miss Jemma Watson. She was going for her early morning walk through Norwich Park when she found the horrible scene. She told us that she screamed for help and then made the call to 911.”

  “When were you notified of the crime?”

  “My cell phone rang at 5:05am on the morning of June 26th. Once the 911 dispatcher received the call, she sent out a notification, and the officer on duty notified me.”

  “What time did you arrive at the scene?”

  “Because my house is only five minutes away from Norwich Park, I was able to throw on some clothes and drive to the location by 5:15am.”

  “Had the sun risen at that point?”

  “It was still rising, but there was plenty of sunlight.”

  “When you arrived at the scene in Norwich Park, what did you find?”

  “I found Miss Watson near the edge of Norwich Park, and she appeared quite distressed. She pointed to the location of the body, where Mr. Harrison, the closest resident to the location, was performing CPR on the body. I ran across to see Mr. Harrison, and checked on the body, but it was clear at this point Chad Townsend was deceased. His lips were blue, his eyes vacant, and there was a lot of blood around his body.”

  “Why do you think Mr. Harrison was performing CPR?”

  “Mr. Harrison was in shock. He kept crying out Chad’s name afte
r I told him he was deceased, and then he started sobbing. It was a distressing scene and not one I would wish for anyone to have to see.”

  “Did anyone else arrive at the scene?”

  “The paramedics and some of my police staff arrived next. We secured the area as the paramedics looked over the body. They declared Mr. Townsend deceased at the scene as we were taping off the area and looking for clues. I advised one of my officers to take photos of the body, and after that, I advised the paramedics to cover the body with a cloth before anyone else saw the distressing scene.”

  “What did you do next?”

  “As one of my detectives, Detective Jack Yale, was looking for clues in the surrounding park, and another officer was taking pictures of the area around the scene, I took statements from Miss Smith and Mr. Harrison.”

  “Were they considered suspects?”

  “At this point in the investigation, everyone was considered a suspect.”

  “Are these the photos of the scene that you found?”

  Tanner pointed to the court monitor as it came to life. The junior prosecutor used her laptop to scroll through the photos of Chad Townsend’s bloodied, lifeless body. A number of the jurors recoiled in horror at seeing pictures of a dead body lying on the ground. For the uninitiated, the scene was disturbing.

  “They’re the photos from the scene, yes. Mr. Harrison advised us that when he ran to the scene from his home, he found Mr. Townsend face down on the concrete next to the bridge, and he rolled Mr. Townsend over to attempt CPR. That’s why the photos of the deceased show him on his back, and the medical examiner’s report states that he was lying on his stomach when he died. As you can see in some of those photos, there’s the imprint of the concrete on his left cheek.”

  “As the investigating officer, where did you find traces of blood?”

  “We found traces of blood on the ground, as you can see in the photos, blood on Mr. Townsend’s shirt—” Richardson paused and then continued. “We also found blood on his shoe.”

  “After you surveyed the scene, what was the next step in your police investigation?”

  For the next two hours and fifty-five minutes, Richardson detailed the crime scene and the steps of the investigation, from how he established Javier Mitchell as the main suspect, to how he arrested him. He described what he observed at the scene in detail, and how the other officers worked under his instruction. He identified the evidence gathered from the scene, including the bloodied shirt, and the blood-stained sneaker, introducing them to the court as evidence. Tanner introduced the photos taken by the police photographer, only showing two more of the dead body to the jury. Showing more pictures of the deceased, especially if it was a gruesome crime, could be regarded as prejudicial. Throughout it all, Richardson kept looking to the jury, telling small jokes, smiling, building a rapport with them. They warmed to Richardson, trusting every word he said, as if he was infallible.

  After Tanner had stretched the testimony out as long as he could, Judge Johnson recessed for the end of the first day. Tanner had deliberately stretched the testimony out, pushing towards the end of the day, allowing the jury to leave without Hunter’s cross-examination.

  Hunter would have to wait until the start of day two before he had the opportunity to change their minds.

  Chapter 24

  Hunter sat at the table, reviewing his files, preparing for his first cross-examination on the morning of day two. The air in the courtroom was thick with tension as the crowd filled in behind him. The seats filled quickly. Judge Johnson entered next, followed by the jury, filing in from the waiting room, where they would eventually deliberate, stepping into their seats in a focused manner. Richardson was an easy witness to attack, he was easy to tear apart, but convincing the jury of his untrustworthiness was something else. They’d trusted him on day one, and it would take a lot to override their first impression.

  “Mr. Hunter?” Judge Johnson interrupted Hunter’s thoughts as he stared at the page of notes. “Would you actually like to question this witness and begin day two?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” Hunter flicked open a second notepad. He scanned the first few lines on the pad. “Chief Richardson, how many times did you interview Mr. Mitchell before you arrested him?”

  “Just once. That’s all we needed. We’re efficient and effective police officers in Longford.”

  “And did Mr. Mitchell confess to the crime?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Not exactly?” Hunter raised his eyebrows and then turned to the judge. “Your Honor, please direct the witness to answer the question.”

  Judge Johnson groaned. “Please answer the question directly, Phillip.”

  “What was the question?” Richardson responded.

  “Did Mr. Mitchell confess to the murder?”

  “No.”

  “In fact, he denied it, didn’t he?”

  “That’s what he said, but all criminals do that.”

  “Objection,” Hunter said. “This is a blatant accusation by a person of authority in this city and clearly prejudicial against the defendant. Mr. Mitchell has never been convicted of any crime, and hence he cannot be referred to as a ‘criminal.’ Your Honor, please direct the witness to answer the questions, and not provide a running commentary on the case.”

  “Sustained.” Judge Johnson groaned. “Phillip, please stick to answering the questions about Mr. Mitchell without any personal commentary.”

  Richardson nodded his response.

  “Did Mr. Mitchell deny the accusation you put to him?” Hunter continued.

  “Yes.”

  Hunter paused and looked to the defense table. The sneaker was still admitted as evidence, and he had to swing early and swing hard on the lack of the DNA identification of the third blood sample. “Was Mr. Townsend wearing sneakers that night?”

  “He was.”

  “During your police investigation, how many blood samples were found on the sneaker?”

  “Three.”

  “Did you identify all three samples?”

  “We identified the first as—”

  “Chief Richardson, I asked if you identified all three samples, not who they belonged to. So, I’ll ask you again, and please answer the question directly.” Hunter paused for effect. “Did your police department find a match for all three samples?”

  “We found a match for two.”

  “The answer is no?”

  “The answer is yes, we found two matching samples.”

  “But not the third?”

  Richardson tilted his head back and looked at Judge Johnson. Johnson nodded.

  “We didn’t match the third sample.”

  “I’ll ask again, so you may answer the question directly. Yes, or no—did you match all three blood samples taken from the sneaker.”

  “No.”

  Hunter stopped. He tilted his head, catching the attention of the jury. He spoke firmly. “Did you consider anyone else as a suspect?”

  “Didn’t have to. We had the evidence.”

  “Did you have a witness to the crime?”

  “We had witnesses who saw Mr. Mitchell near the park at the time of death.”

  “But not a witness to the crime?”

  “No.”

  “And you didn’t have a confession?”

  “Objection,” Tanner called out, breaking Hunter’s rhythm. “Asked and answered.”

  “Sustained.” Judge Johnson was quick to answer. “Move on, Mr. Hunter.”

  “With no confession and no witnesses, and a third sample of blood on Mr. Townsend’s sneaker, did you consider the third sample could belong to the person involved in the murder of Mr. Townsend?”

  Richardson looked up to Judge Johnson. “I don’t understand the question.”

  “It’s quite simple,” Hunter responded. “But let me rephrase it—even though you had another lead, you didn’t follow it. Why is that?”

  “Because we arrested the right person.”

&nbs
p; “Did you consider the third blood sample found on the sneaker could belong to the murderer?”

  “No.”

  “In all your police files, there’s not one mention of investigating the third sample of blood.” Hunter walked back to the defense table and held up a thick folder with the police documents. “Because you didn’t even follow the trail of blood for the third sample, did you?”

  “We didn’t follow it because we didn’t need to.”

  “Your investigation was incomplete.”

  “It’s not incomplete. It’s—”

  “That wasn’t a question,” Hunter interrupted. “But this is—did you know Mr. Mitchell on a personal level?”

  “We’ve met before. I’ve met a lot of the people in this city. Whenever someone moves in, I like to make sure I know them.”

  “And what did you tell him when you first met him?”

  “I welcomed him to the community.” He chuckled. One of the jurors did the same.

  “In those exact words?”

  “To that effect.”

  “Has Mr. Mitchell ever been to your house?”

  “My house?” Richardson drew a long breath. “No, he’s never been to my house.”

  Hunter exaggerated his confused response for the benefit of the jury. Richardson squinted.

  “Have you had complaints against you as a police officer in the past?”

  “My line of work is difficult. Some people think you overstep the line, and they complain.”

  “Can you tell us how many active complaints you have against you?”

  “Five.”

  “And of those active complaints, are two by Mr. Mitchell?”

  Richardson lifted his chin. “Yes.”

  “And those complaints were lodged before you arrested him for murder?”

  Richardson squirmed in his chair. “Yes.”

  Hunter was getting under his skin, and Richardson was struggling to maintain the rage.

  “Did the complaints lodged by Mr. Mitchell make you angry?”

  “No. It’s part of the job.”