“For reading, yes. Not for anything else.”
“And were you wearing them that night?”
“I don’t often read when I’m driving,” West responded. Again, the jury laughed.
“The answer is no?”
“That’s right.”
“How fast were you traveling on your drive to Tabbies Fried Chicken shop?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Were you doing the speed limit?”
“I wasn’t going above it. I was probably driving at twenty-five miles an hour to the shop. I had to get there because they closed at 11pm.”
“In the section next to Norwich Park, are there streetlights on Butcher St?”
“No.”
“Mr. West, do you remember what you told me in our first meeting?”
“I told you to go home.”
“Do you remember telling me that your ‘eyesight is failing, but I can still see a rat when I cross one’?”
West smiled. “I remember telling you that. I remember calling you a rat.” West focused on the second part of the sentence, oblivious to Hunter’s attack.
“Those were your exact words to me?”
“More or less.”
“You told me that, ‘your eyesight is failing,’” Hunter waited a moment for the jury to catch up before he continued. “Traveling at twenty-five miles per hour, on a dark night, without your glasses, on a street that doesn’t have streetlights, you claim to have seen a person at a distance of over fifty yards away, clearly enough to be able to identify them?”
West sat back, straightening in his seat. “That’s what I said.”
“Mr. West,” Hunter turned around to look at the crowd. “Can you tell me who’s standing by the door of the courtroom?”
“Objection. Relevance,” Tanner responded, trying to buy West time to look at the door. Tanner’s incompetence had left the witness unprepared for questions about his eyesight, and he was scrambling to save face.
“Your Honor, the witness’s eyesight is essential to his claims he saw the defendant that night.”
“Overruled,” Judge Johnson responded. “You may answer the question, Bob.”
Hunter had asked Javier’s uncle to dress in brown and stand next to the door of the courtroom for the length of West’s testimony. Javier’s uncle complied, dressed in a dull brown jacket that almost matched the color of the walls. West sat forward in his chair, squinting as he tried to stare at the door. He could make out the figure, yet he couldn’t make out the face. “I don’t know that person.”
“Please step forward.” Hunter indicated to Javier’s uncle, Jeffery Mitchell. He walked to the gate at the front of the courtroom. “Do you recognize him now?”
“Ah,” West sat back. “It’s Jeffery Mitchell. He’s a restaurant owner on Main St.”
“The distance to the door isn’t even a third of the distance you claim to have identified Mr. Mitchell, and yet, even with the benefit of lighting, you can’t recognize someone you know.” Hunter’s voice rose. “Mr. West, do you still maintain that traveling at twenty-five miles per hour, on a dark night, without your glasses, on a street that doesn’t have streetlights, to have seen a person at a distance of over fifty yards away, well enough to be able to identify them?”
West held his mouth open for a few long moments, unsure how to answer. He considered his options. He knew one more lie could make the prosecution case fall apart completely. “I saw somebody.”
Hunter drew a long breath. It was already embarrassing enough for West, and as much as Hunter would’ve enjoyed smashing him further into the ground, he knew the time to strike was now. “Do you now need to change your testimony to say you didn’t see Mr. Mitchell?”
“I saw somebody. That’s what I know. It’s only now you’ve questioned it that I realize it could’ve been someone else.” West’s face started to turn red as he tried to save his testimony. “I could’ve been mistaken.”
“No further questions.”
“You may step down, Mr. West.” Judge Johnson was formal in his statement.
“Wait.” West was desperate. “I can—”
“Bob, I would step down and end this embarrassment, if I were you,” Judge Johnson said in a hushed tone.
West stepped out of the witness box; another prosecution witness caught in a lie. Hunter watched the jury as West walked out of the courtroom, but somehow, they seemed unfazed by his deceit.
Chapter 35
After the disaster of Bob West’s testimony, Tanner called another eyewitness to the stand. Maryann Blewit claimed she saw Javier walking two blocks from Norwich Park at 10pm that night, an hour before the time of death. It was entirely plausible; however, it was hardly condemning. Tanner was clutching at straws, a last desperate attempt to piece the case together. Hunter declined to cross-examine. After six days of evidence, Tanner had no more punches to pull, no more lying witnesses to take the stand. Calling any further eyewitnesses had become fraught with risk, and he decided to rest his case, built mostly on circumstantial evidence from experts. The motive and blood samples found on Chad Townsend’s shirt and sneakers remained the critical pieces of evidence, but it left so much room for reasonable doubt.
Hunter made another motion for a directed verdict at the end of the prosecution’s case—a request that the judge terminates the trial and declare there wasn’t enough evidence for a reasonable jury to convict his client. In most trials, motions for a directed verdict were routine, a matter of course for defense attorneys using every trick in the book. However, Hunter felt this was one of the strongest chances he had at the decision. Judge Johnson was quick to throw it out. The judge was becoming tired of the trial antics, sick of the games, and wanted the case pushed through to a jury decision as soon as possible.
“Mr. Hunter, are you ready to begin?” Judge Johnson asked.
Hunter looked over his shoulder. There was no sign of Carol. As he stood to request more time, his phone pinged on the defense table. He glanced at it. It was Carol. Hunter looked at his phone and his heart started pounding. She was five minutes away.
“We are, Your Honor.” Hunter stood. “However, first, the defense requests a sidebar.”
“Approach.” Judge Johnson waved them forward. Hunter had to stall. He took his time walking up to the bench where Tanner was already waiting.
“What is it, Mr. Hunter?”
Hunter looked back to the doors. No sign of Carol yet.
“The defense requests a recess of fifteen minutes to meet with our first witness.”
“The request is denied. You should’ve been prepared before now. This court doesn’t run on your schedule,” Judge Johnson responded. “Go back to your table and call your first witness.”
Hunter walked back to the table. He stared at the open files, reviewing his notes.
“Mr. Hunter?” Judge Johnson called out. “I’ve asked you to begin your case, and you haven’t called a witness. It’s beginning to look like you don’t have any witnesses to call. If you don’t call your first witness soon, I’ll assume you’re closing your case and we’ll move onto closing arguments.”
Hunter looked to the doors at the back of the room. They opened. Carol walked in. She nodded to him. Hunter decided to open with the big left hook. The opportunity was now. This was his chance.
With the case hanging in the balance, with Javier’s freedom on the line, Tex Hunter began the defense. He’d done all he could to raise doubt in the prosecution’s case, he’d done all he could to question the validity of their circumstantial evidence, and the case still hung in the balance. Calling his first witness was a risk, but so was most of the case. The name would rile the prosecution, they would object, but he was ready for that. Hunter turned to face the judge, knowing his witness had the chance to change the course of the trial. He drew a breath.
“The defense calls Miss Maggie Richardson to the stand.”
“What?” Tanner jumped to his feet. “Objection. Your Honor, she’s
not listed on the defense witness list.”
The crowd murmured behind Hunter. Chief Richardson, sitting in the front row of the court, stood. He glared at Tanner, but his shock was as clear as his. Richardson stormed out the court doors. Carol followed. Javier looked up to Hunter, worry painted across his face.
“Your Honor, new information has come to light about the case from this witness, and the defense calls her to the stand.”
“Approach,” Judge Johnson called them forward. “Care to explain what’s going on?”
“Miss Richardson is Mr. Townsend’s ex-girlfriend, so we listed her as a prosecution witness,” Tanner began as he approached the bench. “But we didn’t call her to testify as we didn’t feel she had any information to add to the case.”
“Your Honor, we feel this witness has very valuable information and we would like to give her the opportunity to tell the truth.”
“Are you sure you want to call a prosecution witness as your first witness, Mr. Hunter?”
“That’s correct, Your Honor.”
“It’s your case, counselor. If she was a prosecution witness, then I presume you’ve seen her witness statement. I’ll allow it.”
The court doors were opened by the bailiff, and the crowd waited with bated breath. There was a collective silence as everyone looked to the doors. Carol walked back in first. She walked to the gates of the courtroom, and indicated Hunter to join her. Hunter looked up to Judge Johnson, and then approached Carol.
“Her father asked her to talk with him outside for a moment,” Carol whispered in Hunter’s ear. “I don’t think this is good.”
“She’s on the prosecution witness list. He knows we can force her to come to the stand.”
“Mr. Hunter?” Judge Johnson called out. “Is your witness ready?”
“We need her to testify,” Hunter whispered to Carol. “Can you get her to come back?”
“I’ll see what I can do, but I’ll make no promises,” Carol whispered. “It was hard enough to get her here in the first place.”
“What changed her mind?”
“I told her Javier needed her to tell the truth, and if she was going down for the murder, then you would defend her in a claim of self-defense,” Carol said. “If she gets that, then she walks away without a charge. So then I guess the question is, will you defend her?”
“I will.”
“Then give me five minutes,” Carol replied. “I’ll get her to come back in.”
“Mr. Hunter?” Judge Johnson’s voice was impatient. “Care to explain to the court what’s going on?”
“Your Honor, may we please give this witness five minutes? The witness is quite nervous to appear before the court.”
“Understandable, given the circumstances.” Judge Johnson groaned. “Alright. Five minutes, Mr. Hunter. That’s all you’ve got.”
The crowd murmured again as Carol rushed back out the courtroom doors and Hunter walked back to the defense table.
“What do you think she’s going to say?” Javier leaned across the defense table. “Do you know what she’ll say? Have you talked to her?”
“There’s a saying that a lawyer should never ask a question they don’t know the answer to,” Hunter responded. “Not knowing the answer is very dangerous in a court case.”
“And do you know what she’s going to say?”
“I have no idea what she’s going to say, Javier.” Hunter turned to him. “But we’re out of options. If she admits she left the house that night, then we can start to build a case based on doubt. We may even have the chance for a mistrial based on what she claims.”
The court doors opened again, and Chief Richardson walked in. He glared at Hunter and then sat down in the front row; his thick arms folded across his chest.
A few moments later, Carol walked in. Hunter waited for her to say something. She walked up to him, leaned forward over the bar, and whispered. “She’s ready to testify.”
Chapter 36
Maggie Richardson was timid as she walked to the stand. The tall young woman was well dressed in a black skirt and white shirt. Her blonde hair was pulled back, and she had no make-up on. Her hands shook a little while she took her oath, and a glaze of sweat sat on her forehead. Her eyes were red. All eyes in the courtroom were staring at her intensely. Carol handed Hunter a piece of paper with the notes she’d gathered on what to ask. Hunter read it, squinted, and then turned to Carol. She nodded.
Chief Richardson sat in the front row behind Tanner, arms folded across his chest, a scowl on his face. He nodded when Hunter turned to look at him. That worried Hunter. Hunter walked to the lectern, folder in hand, and read over Carol’s notes again. He drew a long breath.
“Miss Richardson, thank you for coming to testify today.” Hunter began. “I understand that coming to this courtroom today is hard for you. I’ll start by asking if you already provided a witness statement to the police about your knowledge of the events that occurred on June 25th?”
“I did, but I didn’t tell the whole truth. I hid some details.” She leaned forward into the microphone. “I’m sorry that I did that.”
“And are you willing to tell the truth today?”
“I am. I’m ready to tell everyone what really happened.”
The crowd grumbled behind Hunter.
“Order,” Judge Johnson scolded the crowd.
“Miss Richardson, were you previously in a relationship with Chad Townsend?”
“Yes. We dated for five years, but I broke up with him around five weeks before his death.”
“After you broke up with Mr. Townsend, did you begin a relationship with Mr. Mitchell?”
She paused and then leaned forward to the microphone. “Yes.”
The crowd gasped, as did members of the jury.
“Did you disclose this in your police statement?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because my father is Police Chief Phillip Richardson. He asked me not to say it. He… He told me what to say and what not to say in the police statement.” She drew a deep breath. “He didn’t like Javier and hated the idea that we could have mixed-race babies.”
The jury members were sitting on the edge of their seats, hanging on every word.
“Miss Richardson, how did your father react when you told him you were dating Mr. Mitchell?”
“Objection,” Tanner called out. “Relevance.”
Hunter turned to face Tanner and raised his eyebrows. It was a desperate attempt to disrupt the testimony.
“Overruled.” Judge Johnson groaned. “Please answer the question.”
“I didn’t tell him face to face. I was too frightened to tell him,” she responded. “I was scared that if he found out we were dating that he would hit me, and then go after Javier. My father has been so violent at home, and I was so terrified of him.”
“Did Mr. Townsend ever hit you?”
“Often. He used to hit me after he went out drinking,” she said with little emotion. The fact the jury didn’t react showed Hunter they’d expected that response. “But he never hit me as hard as my father hit me.”
Hunter paused for dramatic effect. He walked to the defense table, removed a file, and then walked back to the lectern, waiting a few moments before he continued. “Did your father say he was going to talk to Chad on the night of June 25th?”
“He was…” She looked at Carol and then Carol nodded. “Chad was causing a scene outside our home on Elliston Avenue around 10:30pm. My father said he was going to deal with Chad once and for all, but I told him not to. I told him I would do it. I walked outside and told Chad we should go to the bridge in Norwich Park, which was about five minutes walk away.”
The crowd murmured again before Judge Johnson slammed his gavel. “Quiet! Or you’ll all be held in contempt.”
Hunter waited for the crowd to hush before he turned back to Maggie. “Did your father leave home later that night?”
“No.”
Hu
nter turned and looked at Carol. She nodded towards the piece of paper she handed him earlier. He read it again. Carol indicated that he needed to turn the piece of paper over. He did that. Hunter’s mouth hung open and then he looked back to Carol. She nodded again.
“Mr. Hunter?” Judge Johnson pressed. “Do you care to continue questioning your first witness?”
Hunter turned around. “Yes.” He paused and walked back to the lectern. “Miss Richardson, what happened next?”
The tears began to well in her eyes. She drew another long breath. And then another. “I left home… I tried to talk with Chad, but he was very drunk. I thought we could walk to the bridge in Norwich Park, and that’s where I would tell him that I was dating Javier.”
“Why were you scared to tell Mr. Townsend this?” Hunter’s voice was soft.
“Because he thought we should be together forever. He thought I was being silly, and he kept saying we should get back together. I went to the bridge, and I was going to tell him to stop harassing me, because…” She drew another breath. “Because I was dating Javier now. He didn’t know that I loved Javier instead of him. Chad thought I took him there to make-out with him. He thought… he thought he owned me.”
Hunter was cautious. “What happened next?”
“He was drunk, and he told me I couldn’t date Javier. He said I was his and he would take what was his. He was… he was trying to rape me. He’d forced me to have sex with him so many times, that I… I just couldn’t do it again. I wasn’t his property.” Her nervousness turned to anger. “He said… he said I was his. I hated that.” She drew a sharp breath. “I hated it. When he grabbed me, again, I punched him. It was self-defense.”
The crowd gasped.
“Then what happened?” Hunter pressed.
“He was so drunk that he fell and hit his head. There was blood, a lot of it. I saw that, but I didn’t care anymore. I’d had enough.”
“When you left Norwich Park, was Mr. Townsend dead?”
“I don’t know. He was lying on the ground, and all I did was hit him once. One shove and he fell and hit his head on the concrete.” Maggie shook her head as the growing murmur in the crowd became louder. “I didn’t check on him, but I left him there for dead.”
Natural Justice: A Legal Thriller (Tex Hunter Legal Thriller Series Book 6) Page 18
