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

by Peter O'Mahoney

  It was a small win for Hunter, and he wasn’t finished yet.

  Chapter 27

  The rest of the morning didn’t go much better for the prosecution. After the last witness testimony was thrown out, they requested a short recess, scrambling to find another credible witness to say much the same thing. There were witnesses to the altercation, but Tanner was concerned whether their testimonies would hold up under cross-examination. Garry Holden was the best of a bad lot, and he’d crumbled on the stand. Hunter had prepared to question all of the witnesses, and he was interested to see which one Tanner took a gamble on. Hunter expected Tanner to be skilled, he expected him to be knowledgeable, but Tanner was turning out to be a disorganized mess under pressure. Hunter reasoned he hadn’t been pressured to win by defense lawyers before. Most would’ve rolled over when faced with the powerful trio of Chief Richardson, Mayor West, and prosecutor Tanner. But Hunter wasn’t most people.

  Despite pressing him over and over, Javier had yet to disclose to Hunter why he was seen leaving Chief Richardson’s house. Carol was busy in the courthouse behind the scenes, talking to people, listening, and following leads. Somebody had to know something, or know someone who did, especially in a city like Longford.

  As Tanner stood to call his next witness, Carol reached forward and tapped Hunter on the shoulder. She indicated to the laptop sitting on the defense table.

  “You’ve got an important email,” she whispered. “It looks like one of my leads delivered.”

  Hunter opened the laptop and checked.

  Mr. Hunter,

  There’s something you should know. Javier Mitchell knows Maggie Richardson very well. Better than most.

  A friend of Maggie’s.

  Hunter turned to look at Carol. She raised her eyebrows. Hunter nodded. Carol stood and left the courtroom. She had a busy day of research ahead of her.

  Tanner called the next prosecution witness, Todd Darcy, to the stand. It was an attempt to recover from the mess of that morning. Todd Darcy was a friend of Chad Townsend, and at nineteen, he was two years younger than the man he idolized. Darcy was a farmer, through and through. Hunter almost expected him to be walking to the stand with a piece of straw hanging out of his mouth. His hair was permanently creased into position from wearing a cap most days, his boots had been polished for the occasion, and his jeans had an ironed crease down the middle. He wore a white shirt that looked like it belonged to his father, and he’d tucked it neatly into his jeans, showing off his large belt buckle.

  “Mr. Darcy,” Tanner began as the witness struggled to find a comfortable position in the stand. “Can you please describe where you were on the night of June 25th?”

  “I was driving my pick-up around town with my friend, Tommy Windsor, when we got word there was a party on Baker St.” Darcy was fidgeting. “So, we went round there to check it out.”

  “What happened when you arrived at the party?”

  “We arrived at the same time Garry Holden arrived in his truck. Chad Townsend was in the passenger seat, and Harry Bills was behind him. They got out when they saw us arrive. The five of us all walked into the party together.”

  “What happened when you walked in?”

  “Listen, we weren’t quite invited to the party, so the other people there weren’t that welcoming to us. One person told us to leave, but we decided to stay. That’s when Javier confronted Chad.” Darcy pulled on his ear, scratched his face, and rubbed his nose. Public speaking wasn’t his strength and all the eyes of the court were on him. “There was an argument between Javier and Chad. Chad punched Javier first, but it was just a little tap. Nothing big. And then Javier said some stuff, and then punched Chad in the nose hard.”

  “What did you hear Mr. Mitchell say to Mr. Townsend?”

  He cleared his throat. “I heard Javier say, ‘I’m going to kill you.’”

  “Those were Mr. Mitchell’s exact words.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What happened after Mr. Mitchell punched Mr. Townsend?”

  “Javier punched Chad pretty hard, and Chad’s nose was bleeding pretty bad. Javier fell on Chad, trying to punch him again, but we grabbed him and dragged him off. While we had hold of his arms, he said he was going to kill Chad.”

  “What happened next?”

  “We left the party, and Chad decided to jump in my truck. We were driving around the city for a while because Chad was really angry. He asked me to drop him off at the end of Elliston Avenue around 10pm.”

  “What was on Elliston Avenue?”

  “That’s where Chad lived. He lived out the back of his parent’s place, so I used to drop him off at the end of the street, so he could sneak back into his room and not wake his parents.”

  “Did you drop him off there?”

  “I did, and then I asked if he was done for the night, but he said no, he had to meet someone at Norwich Park, which was about a five-minute walk away. If I’d know what was going to happen, I would’ve gone with him. I wouldn’t have let him go there alone.”

  “Did he tell you who he was going to meet?”

  “He said he was going to meet Javier at Norwich Park at 11pm. He said he was going to say sorry to Javier and try and smooth things over.”

  “Did you talk to Mr. Townsend after that?”

  “No, that’s the last time I saw him alive. I parked at the end of Elliston Avenue, and he stepped out of my truck, and that was it.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” Tanner finished. “No further questions.”

  Hunter waited a few moments before he began questioning Darcy. He was asserting his authority in the courtroom, showing his power, and he could see it agitated the witness. Darcy squirmed in his chair, anxious to get his public appearance over with.

  “Mr. Darcy, were you drinking that night?”

  “No.”

  “Really?” Hunter raised his eyebrows. He walked back to his desk and picked up five A4-sized photographs. “Mr. Darcy, can you please explain what you’re holding in these pictures?”

  Hunter handed the photos to the witness, who looked them over. The sweat started to build on his brow.

  “Mr. Darcy, these are photos that you posted on your social media page that afternoon and that night. We can see from these five photos that there are five different beers in your hand on each occasion. One photo even shows you holding a can of beer while driving. We know they’re different beers because in one you’ve got a glass, the next is a can, the following photograph you’ve got a plastic cup. Would you like to reconsider your answer since you’re lying to this court?”

  “Objection.” Tanner rose to his feet. “This is an accusation.”

  “You’re treading a fine line, Mr. Hunter,” Judge Johnson stated. “But the witness may answer the question.”

  “Look, I might’ve had a drink or two.”

  “Five different drinks, Mr. Darcy. Five. And that’s just what is caught in these photos.”

  “Alright. I had a lot to drink. So what? You can’t prove that it’s beer. Just because I’m not twenty-one doesn’t mean I shouldn’t drink. I can handle my alcohol. I’m fine with it.”

  Hunter could hear a groan from the prosecutor’s table. He pressed on, challenging the young man’s ego. “Did these five drinks cause you to feel intoxicated?”

  “I said I could handle my alcohol. I wasn’t drunk.”

  “Ok.” Hunter walked to the lectern. “While at the party, did you hear every word Mr. Mitchell said to Mr. Townsend that night?”

  “I did. I was standing right there. I heard every word between them.”

  “At the party, did Mr. Mitchell ask Mr. Townsend to meet at Norwich Park?”

  “No. He didn’t say anything like that.”

  “After the altercation, you said you were driving around with Mr. Townsend, correct?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Can you explain how Mr. Mitchell communicated to Mr. Townsend that he would like to meet in Norwich Park at
11pm?”

  “What do you mean?” He squinted in confusion.

  “When you left the party, Mr. Mitchell hadn’t asked Mr. Townsend to meet in Norwich Park. You were driving with Mr. Townsend, and then you said Mr. Mitchell contacted your passenger to meet in Norwich Park. How did he do that?”

  “I don’t know. He must’ve got a text message.”

  “Really?” Hunter walked back to the defense table and picked up a piece of paper. “This is a copy of Mr. Townsend’s phone records. On this page is all the messages that came in and out from his phone on the night of June 25th. Can you please read this and tell me which message is from Mr. Mitchell?”

  “Ah.” His face began to get red as he was handed the piece of paper. He read line after line, slowly, running his finger over the information and mouthing the names. “It’s none of these.”

  “Then how did Mr. Mitchell ask Mr. Townsend to meet at Norwich Park?”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Maybe after I dropped him off, that’s when he must’ve seen him on the street. Yeah, that makes sense. He must’ve seen Javier after I dropped him off.”

  “Pardon?” Hunter said. “You told this court that Mr. Townsend asked to be dropped off at the end of Elliston Avenue so he could meet Mr. Mitchell in Norwich Park. Did that happen or not?”

  “Yeah, that happened.” Darcy was becoming flustered. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

  “But how?” Hunter was exasperated. “How did Mr. Mitchell ask Mr. Townsend to meet him at the park while he was riding in your truck?”

  “It must’ve been a text message.”

  “We have Mr. Townsend’s phone records here.” Hunter waved the piece of paper in the air. “We can see what text messages came in and out, what phone calls there were, and what internet sites he accessed. None of the internet sites were messaging sites. None of the text messages asked to meet in Norwich Park. So, Mr. Darcy, tell me how.”

  “I don’t know.” Darcy’s face was bright red, and the sweat marks under his armpits were becoming visible. “I don’t know how it happened.”

  “Because it didn’t happen, did it?” Hunter’s voice rose. “That’s not what Mr. Townsend told you, is it?”

  “Ah,” He looked like he was about to burst into tears. He wiped his brow again. “Yeah, ok. He didn’t say that. I dropped him off at home and he didn’t say it.” He swallowed. “But if I knew what that Mexican—”

  “That’s enough.” Hunter’s voice was loud and firm.

  The entire courtroom went silent. Darcy sat on the stand, frozen. Hunter returned to his table, breathing heavily, and flicked open a file. He turned back to Judge Johnson.

  “Your Honor, this trial is becoming a farce. Your courtroom is becoming a joke. The defense moves to also dismiss this witness’s entire testimony. This witness has changed his statement numerous times in a matter of minutes. I move to dismiss this witness and his entire testimony under Illinois Criminal Code 720 ILCS 5/32-2. It’s clear the witness is deliberately committing perjury and is lying about what happened that night to prejudice the case against my client.”

  “Prosecutor?” Judge Johnson was almost pleading with Tanner to come back with a decent response.

  Tanner looked at the table, shook his head, then stood and conceded. “There are no objections from the prosecution.”

  Judge Johnson grunted. “Then I have no choice but to grant the motion. Witness, you may step down, however, you’ll be charged with perjury. You cannot come into this courtroom and lie under oath,” Judge Johnson stated. “And counsel for the prosecution, let this be an official warning that you cannot place another lying witness on the stand. After I explain what this motion means to the jury, we’ll recess for lunch, and it may also give you a chance to organize your witness list, Mr. Tanner.”

  Judge Johnson turned to the jury as Darcy stepped off the witness stand. Two of the members of the jury were shaking their heads, staring at Darcy, trying to process what was happening. Judge Johnson spoke at length to the jury about the testimony, asking them numerous questions about their interpretation of the ruling, and when satisfied, declared a recess for lunch.

  “They’re all lying. How can they do that?” Javier leaned close to Hunter and asked as the crowd moved out. “How is that allowed?”

  “It isn’t.” Hunter’s response was blunt. “But it gives us a chance to throw this whole mess out.”

  As Javier was guided out by the bailiff for lunch, Hunter didn’t leave his desk. He sat in front of his laptop for the next hour, typing his next motion, desperate to have it prepared in time for Judge Johnson’s return. By the time Judge Johnson walked back into the room, before the jury was brought back in, Hunter had printed out the motion. He was ready to attack.

  “The defense submits a motion for a mistrial.” Hunter handed a piece of paper to the bailiff, who passed it to the judge. “This outrageous and prejudicial behavior must not continue. There has been a continued and deliberate attempt by the prosecution to present false, misleading, and untruthful evidence at this trial. This cannot continue. The due process rights of the defendant have been violated by the prosecution. They’re deliberately and intentionally misleading the jury, using known perjured or false testimony, and presenting inaccurate evidence. There has been serious misconduct during these proceedings.”

  “Your Honor, this is outrageous!” Tanner shouted. “The jury has not been unduly influenced. To permit the dismissal of an indictment, the denial of due process must be unequivocally clear. A mistrial should only be ordered where there’s an error of such gravity that it’s infected the fundamental fairness of the trial and continuation of the proceeding would defeat the ends of justice. The perjury committed by the witnesses has been discovered during the trial, strong steps have been taken to correct it, and the jury was clearly, directly, and unequivocally instructed to disregard the testimony.”

  “Your Honor, the prosecution has clearly established they’ll continue to present false, misleading, and untruthful evidence in this trial,” Hunter argued. “You cannot allow this trial to continue.”

  “I expected this from you, Mr. Hunter, and my ruling is that the motion is denied,” Judge Johnson responded. “A trial court’s decision to deny a motion for a mistrial is reviewed for abuse of discretion, and if I’ve erred in this judgment, then it’ll be reviewed at a later time.”

  “Then the defense submits a motion for a directed verdict, under the Illinois Code of Criminal Procedure, 735 ILCS 5/2-1202.” Hunter handed another piece of paper to the bailiff, who passed it to the judge.

  Tanner flicked through the pages of notes on his table, confused by the motion. His assistant typed into her laptop and then turned it to face Tanner. “Your Honor, the defense can’t do that,” Tanner argued. “That’s a post-trial motion. We haven’t even closed our case yet. The prosecution has not rested.”

  “If the prosecution intends to continue to bring lying witnesses to the stand, I consider their case closed.”

  “Mr. Hunter, enough of the games. I can see what you’re doing. With every declined motion, you’re setting yourself up for an appeal, but this is a post-trial motion, and the prosecution has not rested its case. The motion is denied.” Judge Johnson was firm. “But Mr. Tanner, I’ll warn you again—select your next witness very carefully or I’ll have no choice but to throw this case out.”

  Chapter 28

  Tanner called his next witnesses and spent the afternoon being careful about the questions he presented. He was close to the line where not even Judge Johnson could save him. Ignoring his original plan to bring in eyewitnesses first, he brought in expert after expert, relying on science to build his trust back with the jury. A forensic expert testified about the blood splatter patterns, followed by a crime scene expert who declared that the body had not been dragged to the location. They were good testimonies, solid, however, Hunter’s mind was elsewhere. By late afternoon, the courtroom doors opened, and Carol snuck back in,
sitting behind Hunter and Javier at the front pew.

  She’d spent the day calling in favors, calling associate after associate, trying to track down details about their current client. By the time Judge Johnson had called a recess for the end of day three, Carol had a copy of the material she needed. When she handed the new information to Hunter, she could sense the rage burning off him.

  He turned to Javier; his jaw clenched tight. “We need to talk in the conference room.”

  After Carol negotiated with the court staff, the bailiff allowed Javier and the defense team to have five minutes in the conference room before Javier was driven back to prison for the night. The atmosphere in the client conference room was tense. Next to the courtroom, with only one door, the room had a wooden table in the middle with three chairs surrounding it. Not much else could fit.

  “I’m ready to tell the truth,” Javier said as Hunter walked in with Carol behind him. “It’s time.

  “Go on.” Hunter sat down; his jaw clenched.

  “I was having a relationship with Maggie Richardson.” Javier stared at the table, his hands cuffed and resting on his lap. There were scratches along the edge of the wooden table, imprints from nervous fingernails. “We were sleeping together. We tried to keep it quiet because we were scared of what her father, or Chad, would do if they found out.”

  Hunter sighed and leaned back in the seat. He put his hands on his forehead. With the information Carol had gathered, he’d been expecting the confession. “Why didn’t you tell me this before now?”

  “I didn’t want to bring her into it.” Javier paused for a moment. He fought back the tears. “We weren’t officially dating, but I wanted to make it official. So did she, but she was so worried about what Chad would do. Chad hated me already, and it would’ve made things harder for her. Chad still thought it was only a matter of time before he’d get back together with Maggie. He was harassing her so much. Text messages, calls, he’d been calling out her name from the street in front of her house. They lived five houses apart, so it was easy for Chad to see her coming and going. That’s why I was seen leaving the Richardson house. I was with Maggie.”