A medical expert testified that a woman could’ve struck Chad Townsend, and being drunk, Townsend could’ve fallen, hit his head on the ground, and caused his own death. An eyewitness testified they didn’t hear Javier Mitchell threaten Chad Townsend when they had an altercation at the party. Another witness testified they saw Javier’s blood drip from his nose onto the shirt during their fight at the party.
The truth, the undeniable weight of evidence, was in the defense’s favor.
Tanner had few objections to raise. He was nervous as he sat at the table, in awe of a courtroom master working his magic. He fidgeted constantly, only stopping to bark instructions at his assistant. Hunter delivered blow after blow after blow to the evidence presented by the prosecution.
When Hunter rested the defense’s case on Friday at lunchtime, Tanner was dumbfounded. He had little response to the furious display of expertise in the courtroom.
Before calling for closing statements, Judge Johnson spoke to the jury about their civic duty and the legal definitions that had to guide their decisions, and when he was sure they were clear on their responsibilities, he called for the lawyers to begin their closing statements.
Tanner stood, walked to the lectern, and made one final plea for a guilty verdict.
*****
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, people of Longford, thank you for taking the time to listen to this case. This process has been long, at times boring, and arduous, however, you must not forget why you’re sitting in the jury box.
You’re sitting there because you need to make a determination on the guilt of that man, Mr. Javier Mitchell.
You need to listen to the facts, not the stories. You need to listen to the evidence, not the fanciful display of theater from the defense. You need to make your decision based on the proof.
We’ve heard the defense lawyer stand up here and jump around with great stories. Even I was impressed, almost mesmerized by his performance. But that’s not a reason to find someone not guilty. Having a good lawyer shouldn’t determine someone’s guilt.
You have to forget the show by the defense, you have to forget the theatrics, you have to forget the fiction, and make your decision on the facts.
The facts are that Chad Townsend died as a result of exsanguination at around 11pm on June 25th. He died on the cold concrete of Norwich Park, next to a stone bridge that spanned the narrow part of the lake. He died after he was struck in the face.
The facts are that Mr. Mitchell had a physical altercation with Mr. Townsend earlier that night. The facts are that Mr. Mitchell was heard saying that he wanted to kill Mr. Townsend. The facts are that Mr. Mitchell was a physically violent man that night.
The cold hard truth is that Mr. Mitchell’s blood was found on Mr. Townsend’s shirt, and his shoe. The cold hard truth is that Mr. Mitchell’s hair was found on Mr. Townsend’s shirt. The cold hard truth is that Mr. Mitchell murdered Mr. Townsend that night.
The application of the law is really simple—if you find beyond a reasonable doubt that Mr. Mitchell murdered Mr. Townsend, then you must return a guilty verdict.
It’s really simple—Mr. Mitchell is the only person who had the motive, the means, and the desire to murder Mr. Townsend.
This is a chance for the justice system to convict and punish a murderer. This is the chance for the justice system to stop this man from doing this again. This is a chance for you, the jury, to clean up the streets of Longford. This is a chance for you to protect our city. This is a chance for you to protect our neighbors from violence.
We don’t need this sort of violence in Longford. We don’t need this sort of behavior here. We’re a peaceful city, and let’s send a clear message that we want to keep it that way.
Don’t be tricked by the tall tales from the tall defense lawyer. The only reasonable conclusion you can make after this trial is guilty.
Thank you for your time.”
*****
Tanner walked back to his seat. He looked to the defense table, his face turned away from the jury, and winked. Hunter ignored Tanner’s bravado, making numerous notes across his closing statement, and then stood behind the lectern.
Tanner had appealed to the jury’s sense of duty in Longford—highlighting that Javier and Hunter weren’t locals. He appealed to the locals’ need to protect their city. Hunter had to do the opposite. He had to appeal to the fact that there wasn’t enough evidence to convict Javier Mitchell of murder. He had to convince twelve regular people that Javier was innocent.
*****
“Javier Mitchell is innocent. After the weeks that we’ve had together in this courtroom, that should be clear to you now.
There’s no evidence that Mr. Mitchell was there that night. There’s no evidence that Mr. Mitchell planned to meet Mr. Townsend in Norwich Park. And there’s no evidence that Mr. Mitchell caused Mr. Townsend’s death.
Let me repeat that for you so it’s really clear—there’s no evidence that Mr. Mitchell caused Mr. Townsend’s death. None. And because of that, because the prosecution presented no evidence, the state has failed in its attempt to convict Mr. Mitchell.
Mr. Tanner talked about facts, and I’m glad he did. Because what are the facts? The facts are that Mr. Mitchell’s blood landed on Mr. Townsend’s shirt earlier that night when there was an altercation between the two young men. The facts are that Mr. Mitchell’s blood landed on the sneaker earlier that night. We heard a witness testify to this.
The facts are that Mr. Mitchell had no way to organize a meeting with Mr. Townsend at Norwich Park. The facts are that nobody saw Mr. Mitchell near Norwich Park that night.
And what does that leave? It leaves nothing, no evidence, no facts, nor any proof, that Mr. Mitchell had a hand in Mr. Townsend’s death.
We’ve also heard there was a third blood stain on Mr. Townsend’s shoe that wasn’t investigated by the police, or the prosecution. We’ve heard the blood sample wasn’t matched. Who did the third sample of blood belong to? I’ll let you think about that.
We’ve even had a witness in this trial testify she was there that night and had an altercation with Mr. Townsend and caused his death.
This is your chance to uphold what our flag stands for. This is your chance to stand up for fairness, for justice, and for liberty. No innocent person should be convicted of a crime they didn’t commit.
Listen to the facts, listen to what the evidence is saying, because it all points to the innocence of Mr. Mitchell.
After hearing the facts of this case, you can only make one reasonable decision—Mr. Mitchell is not guilty.
Thank you for your service to the justice system.”
Chapter 40
“No decision yet?” Carol called out as she stepped out of her car. “It’s been two days.”
She stood at the end of her Ford sedan, looking out at the view of High Point Hill, the closest lookout over the town of Longford. The hill was barely more than a large mound, set up as a tourist attraction many decades earlier, overlooking the farmlands that surrounded it. The lone sign that sat at the edge of the gravel parking lot was weathered, damaged, and barely readable. There were two picnic benches at the high point of the hill, the long grass growing around them. To the west was the view of the city of Longford, and to the east, it was a clear view of Marline County Prison. Not the sort of place tourists would want to take time to look at.
The sun was high in the sky, but the summer bite had started to disappear from its intensity. There were storms in the distance, at least a hundred miles away, and flashes of lightning could occasionally be seen under the blanket of dark gray.
Tex Hunter and Esther Wright leaned against the front end of Hunter’s BMW, gazing out to the view, each with a to-go coffee cup in their hands.
“I’m glad you recommended this, Carol,” Hunter said as he pointed towards the view. “Either way, this case is coming to a close, and this is a nice way to look at the view of Longford. It’s nice to have a good memory about my
time out here.”
“Your time with me isn’t a good memory?” Carol joked.
“The best.” Hunter grinned. “You’ve been invaluable.”
“Have you told her yet?” Carol pointed to Esther standing next to him.
“Told me what?” Esther asked.
“Ah, sort of,” Hunter responded to Carol. “But the case isn’t over yet.”
“For a man who controls the courtroom, you have a difficult time expressing emotions.” Carol sat on the picnic bench that was within a few feet of the car. “I guess that’s why you like the courtroom so much.”
“Just like my brother—always analyzing things.” Hunter looked out to the view again. “At least this heatwave has eased.”
“Which way do you think the case will fall?” Esther sipped her coffee. “The longer it goes on, the more nervous I get.”
“The length of time they’re deliberating means there’s doubt somewhere. We have at least one person in the jury room on our side. Someone is arguing for the truth,” Hunter said. “Right now, it’s a waiting game. All the evidence says he’s innocent, but someone must be judging him based on their feelings. The jury has already come back and asked the judge a lot of questions, but they’ve given no hints to the outcome.”
“What happens to Maggie if he’s not guilty?” Carol asked.
“It was self-defense,” Hunter said. “I can’t see Chief Richardson pursuing any criminal charges against his own daughter in that situation.”
They stood in silence for a while, gazing across the lands of Southern Illinois. Having a jury out was the closest thing a legal team experienced to suspended animation. Everything was put on hold. Even the easiest tasks—filing cases, reviewing notes, returning phone calls—were too much to focus on.
The days of the trial played over and over in Hunter’s mind—could he have said this instead of that, could he have objected here instead of there. He did everything he could to stay out of the office while a jury deliberated, unable to sit still for any extended period of time. As Hunter paced the office floor in the morning, Carol suggested he and Esther drive up to High Point Hill to look at the view, and she would join them later. Hunter didn’t take much convincing.
“I did have one question,” Carol said.
“Go on,” Hunter responded.
“When I first started this case, you said that if you got Javier out of prison, then someone would give you information about an old case. You never told me what the old case was.”
Hunter looked to Esther, and she nodded.
“It’s my father’s case,” Hunter responded. “My sister flew to Mexico before my father’s trial, and until earlier this year, I hadn’t seen or talked to her since. She changed her last name, changed her look, and changed everything about herself. After years of searching, I found her and flew to Mexico to talk to her, but she didn’t want to say a word to me. A few weeks later, she called me and said that if I got her friend’s son out of prison, then she would tell me something about that case that I never knew. That’s why I needed to get Javier out of prison.”
Carol gazed out to the horizon. The lightning was becoming more frequent. “And what do you think the information is?”
“She knows what really happened,” Hunter responded. “And all I know is she’ll only tell me if we save Javier.”
The wind blew in again. It was getting stronger.
Hunter’s cell buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and answered it. “Tex Hunter.”
Hunter listened for a moment and then ended the call.
“The jury has a decision,” he said. “Judge Johnson needs everyone back in court as soon as possible.”
Chapter 41
Hunter walked into the courtroom, followed by Esther and Carol. Tanner was already at the defense table. The seats were filling up, and when the bailiff saw Hunter, he stepped out to retrieve Javier from the nearby courthouse cells.
Chief Richardson, waiting in the front row of the court seats, stood and walked across to the area behind Hunter’s desk.
“Nice of you to join us,” Richardson said as he leaned on the bar and lowered his voice. “If the decision is Not Guilty, I suggest you, Javier, and your pretty assistant get in your car and drive away as fast as possible. I need you to keep driving and driving and never come back, because I don’t need to be handling another murder case in this city. There’s a lot of angry people in this city with a lot of guns. Get out of here before they use them.”
The side door to the courtroom opened, and Javier was escorted to the defense table. Richardson stared at him before he went back to his seat, sitting down with a heavy thud. Behind the defense table sat Javier’s supporters—his mother and father, his uncle, his cousin, and his friends. Javier’s mother looked like she was about to faint.
“Is this it?” Javier sat down at the table. He was sweating and unable to sit still. “This is the decision?”
“That’s right.”
Javier bit his lip. It was clear he’d been crying. “What do you think?”
“I’m not sure, Javier,” Hunter said. “We had a strong case, but it doesn’t mean anything to a juror who wants you convicted. If we lose, we’ll win on appeal, especially if Maggie testifies again. There were so many grounds to reverse this decision if it turns out to be a guilty verdict.”
“Mr. Hunter.” Javier looked to his lawyer. “I don’t think I’ll make it long enough in prison to see an appeal.”
The door to Judge Johnson’s chambers opened and the bailiff stepped out first, announcing the arrival of Judge Johnson. Hunter’s breathing shortened.
Upon instruction, the bailiff brought the jury in. They were uneasy, averting eye contact with Javier as they entered. One bumped into a chair and almost fell.
At Judge Johnson’s direction, Hunter and Javier stood.
Judge Johnson turned to the jury. “Jury Foreman, have you reached your verdict in the case against Mr. Javier Mitchell?”
“We have, Your Honor.” Juror ten stood tall and strong. “We’ve reached a verdict.”
The jury foreman handed a piece of paper to the bailiff, who in turn, handed it to Judge Johnson.
Judge Johnson took a few moments to read the verdict, and then passed the sheet of paper back to the foreman. The foreman stood up straight and tall, looking proud of the collective decision.
“In the charges of murder in the first degree, how do you find the defendant, Mr. Javier Mitchell?”
The moment they’d been waiting for. The moment they’d worked towards.
“We, the jury, in the charges of first-degree murder, find the defendant, Mr. Javier Mitchell...”
Hunter took a long breath and looked back to the jury.
“Guilty.”
The courtroom erupted with cheers.
The shock on Hunter’s face said it all. He looked at the judge, whose blank face remained expressionless. Hunter looked to Tanner, who was smiling and shaking the hands of the Townsend family behind him.
He turned back to Esther and Carol. Carol shook her head and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
Javier’s mother had collapsed to the floor. His father was crying.
Hunter turned to Javier, who had slumped down into his chair, a blank expression across his face. Hunter rested his hand on Javier’s shoulder. “We’ll win on appeal.”
“Thanks, Mr. Hunter. For everything,” Javier whispered. “But I won’t be alive that long.”
Chapter 42
Javier had to wait hours in the courthouse cells, alone and devastated. From inside the cell, he could hear the celebrating. The guards and bailiffs were cheering, drinking, and singing. In their eyes, they had Chad’s killer, and Maggie was just trying to cover for her lover. The jury didn’t believe a single word she said. Javier wasn’t sure he did either. But it made sense—she tried to break it off with Chad that night and he got angry. He was drunk and hit his head on the ground. Javier hated that he involved Maggie in the trial, he hated tha
t she had to confess, but he was left with little choice. In the end, it didn’t matter anyway.
There was another person in one of the other cells, but they were also quiet. The man called out once, but Javier was too broken to respond.
He wasn’t sure what time it was when he was woken up by the drunk guard. The guard slapped his face as he was sleeping on the bench in the cell, and told him it was time to board the bus back to the prison. It was dark and he was weary. He asked the guard if he could stay until morning, at least until the guard was sober enough to drive, but the guard didn’t listen. He said it was time to start his long sentence behind bars. From the cell next to his, the other prisoner was being hauled onto the bus by an equally drunk guard.
The prison bus wasn’t much. It was a small bus, with a locked chain gate at the front. Javier looked at the lock as he was escorted onto the bus. It was rusted and he was sure he could break it with his foot. There were two guards for the two prisoners—the driver and the man carrying a shotgun. The driver smelled of alcohol, heavily. His face was red, and his eyes were tinged yellow. Javier wasn’t sure which guard was drunker, but they were happy drunks, at least.
The moment the metal cage locked at the front of the bus; Javier could see his future disappear. It was likely to be twenty-five years in the slammer. Twenty-five years behind cold metal bars. Twenty-five years to survive. He’d be forty-five by the time he got out, if he made it that far. That was the reality he faced. That was his future. His best years lost for a crime he didn’t commit.
“They’re so drunk, they didn’t even handcuff us,” the other prisoner whispered, showing his free hands. Javier recognized the inmate. He was one of the men that beat the Black prisoners in the yard. “We’ll be lucky to make it back to prison. It doesn’t worry me, though. I just got convicted again. I’ll be here for life. We might crash and die on the way back, but least then our sentences would be over.”
Natural Justice: A Legal Thriller (Tex Hunter Legal Thriller Series Book 6) Page 20
