Savannah Law

by William Eleazer

  “He wasn’t—until Desano made him one. We’ll see tomorrow if he’s a fast learner. Thanks for the heads up.”

  CHAPTER 42

  Wednesday, September 13

  The courtroom was already packed when Scott and Daniel arrived Wednesday morning. It was twenty minutes before nine. Scott saw Jennifer seated in the middle of the third row, eyes down, apparently reading. Max Gordon was in his seat in a rear corner, in conference once again with Professor Nolan. Most of the news media and TV cameramen were in their usual places.

  Scott briefed Daniel on Jeff’s phone call from the previous night. He stood and surveyed the throng of spectators. Some were standing, some, seated, all talking. The room was unusually noisy.

  “I see two or three that meet Jeff’s description,” Scott said, as he took a seat next to Daniel. “They are in different rows. I don’t have a clue what they are up to. I’m just going to ignore them.”

  “Good. You have bigger fish to fry,” said Daniel. He turned and looked toward the courtroom door and saw Richard approaching, alone.

  “Couldn’t locate Josh,” said Richard. I called his cell every hour until 2 a.m. this morning, and I called again at eight this morning—six, his time. No answer and no voice mail. I also checked with Delta just fifteen minutes ago. He’s not on any manifest today. Apparently, he just bugged out. I really misjudged him. I thought he was solid.”

  “That makes two of us,” said Scott. “I spoke with him Saturday. I would have bet my Camaro he would show.” Scott paused and bit down on his bottom lip. “Well, we’ll just have to go with what we have. I’ll call Patel and rest my case. If Josh shows, we can put him on in rebuttal.”

  “You are assuming the defendant is going to testify, or that the defense is going to put some other evidence on,” said Richard. “You have only one witness who can ID the defendant, and that ID occurred with a loaded revolver in his face. And that was two years ago. They may just rest their case without putting on any evidence. Really wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “You may be right,” said Scott, “but that doesn’t change anything. We still have only one witness—Patel. Let me know as soon as you hear anything on the whereabouts of Josh Johnson.”

  There were three sharp raps on the floor by the bailiff with the tall, tasseled staff, and the courtroom sprang to its collective feet.

  “You may be seated,” said Judge Desano. “Before we bring in the jury, Mr. Marino, are you ready to proceed with your next witness?”

  “We are, Your Honor.”

  Professor Nolan then stood. “Your Honor, I have a matter to take up before the jury is brought in.”

  “And what might that be, Mr. Nolan?”

  Nolan picked up a yellow pad and read from his notes. “I would like to have the defendant seated somewhere else in the courtroom other than at the defense table. There has been no evidence in this case to link John Harrison to the alleged robbery. We understand the prosecution has a single witness to ID the defendant as the robber. With the defendant seated next to me at the defense table, how can the witness fail to identify him? It’s totally unfair and a violation of the defendant’s due process rights to be placed where an identification is inevitable.” Nolan put down his yellow pad.

  “Do you have a response, Mr. Marino?”

  Scott looked down at Daniel for some help, but Daniel was as surprised as Scott and offered no assistance.

  “Frankly, Your Honor, this is news to me,” Scott said, after slowly getting to his feet. “It would have been helpful had defense counsel given us notice so that we could research the law. This is the first I’ve heard of this ‘due process’ argument. Cases have been tried in courtrooms in this country for a couple hundred years with the defendant seated at the defense table throughout the trial. Counsel is free to argue to the jury the weakness of any in-court identification when the defendant is seated at the defense table, but we oppose the defendant being removed to the spectator section or anywhere else in the courtroom.”

  “Well, Mr. Marino, I’m not going to allow the defendant to be seated with the spectators. But I will allow him to be seated within the bar and several feet from the defense table. Is that satisfactory with you, Mr. Nolan?”

  Nolan picked up his pad again. “Your Honor, would you also allow some other persons—civilians—to be seated within the bar? Except for the prosecutors, the defendant, and myself, all others inside the bar are uniformed persons. It would still be inevitable that the defendant will be the person identified if he is the only civilian seated in this area.”

  “Fine. I will allow one other civilian. Do you have someone who can fill another chair, Mr. Nolan?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. There is a Mr. Troy Morrison already in the courtroom. I’m sure he would be willing to come up.”

  Judge Desano looked at the crowded spectator section and said, “Mr. Morrison, if you are in the courtroom, would you please stand and identify yourself?”

  A young man in a dark suit and red tie stood.

  “Would you please come forward?” Judge Desano called from the bench. “And, bailiff, please get a chair and place it about ten or twelve feet from the defense table for Mr. Morrison.”

  Judge Desano faced the young man and asked, “Did you hear what we were just discussing?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you willing to be seated in that chair for the duration of this trial?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Very well.” The judge then turned to a bailiff and said, “Bring the jury into the courtroom.”

  It was all so clear now. Scott recalled Max taking the photo of the defendant as he left the courtroom the previous Tuesday. He knew that Max’s team had used the photo to round up the “look-alikes” to attend the trial for the purpose of fooling the eyewitnesses. Those devious, scheming bastards. He wondered how much the “look-alikes” were paid and just how much money these thugs had at their disposal to hustle the system. Was this criminal conduct, unprofessional conduct, or both? Jury tampering? Could he prove it? Should he be objecting? Would Desano just tell him it’s an open court and any citizen can attend? Scott was pondering his options while the members of the jury filed in. And before he could decide on a course of action, he heard Judge Desano’s voice: “Call your next witness.”

  “The state calls Vijay Patel,” Scott managed to say, as he gathered his thoughts to focus on the examination of his most important witness. After going through the usual preliminaries, he directed his questions of his witness to the evening of the robbery.

  “Who was working in the store at that time?”

  “I was the only person on duty. It was a slow night, and I was about to close. I had sent my only assistant home.”

  “What did you do after you sent your assistant home?”

  “I turned off the outside lights and was about to lock the doors and begin my close-out procedure at the register. I had actually taken out my keys to lock up when a man entered the store. I waited behind the counter to accommodate him.”

  “Describe how the man was dressed.”

  “He was wearing dark sunglasses, Levi’s, a dark pullover shirt, and a tan windbreaker.”

  “What did the man do?”

  “First, he went to the beer cooler, opened it, looked in, and then shut it without removing anything. He turned and faced in my direction for a moment and then turned his head from side to side, like he was scanning the store. I couldn’t see his eyes because of his sunglasses, but he must have seen me looking at him. He then turned back toward the beer cooler.”

  “After he turned back toward the cooler, what did he do?”

  “He sort of disappeared behind the candy shelves. Those shelves have some tall displays on them, and I couldn’t see him. I didn’t see him again until he reappeared along the wall of big plate-glass windows that face the parking lot, walking with his head down.”

  “What did you observe him do next?”

  “His path would take him up to
the cash register, where I was standing. I expected him to ask for cigarettes or something else from behind the counter. Instead, when he got to within three or four feet of me, he pulled a pistol from his jacket and stuck it in my face.”

  “What type of pistol was it, Mr. Patel?”

  “It was a snub-nose .38 revolver, I’m pretty sure. I used to own one like it. I bought it after I was robbed the first time.”

  “What happened after he stuck the revolver in your face?”

  “He had a plastic bag, one like most grocery stores use, in his left hand. He said in a clear and strong voice: ‘Place all of your cash in this bag. That includes all bills, coins, and rolls of coins.’ I recall every word. That’s exactly what he said. It was strange. I’ve been robbed three other times, and each time it was something like ‘gimme all your cash’ or ‘put the cash in the bag and hurry.’ This guy was different. He sounded very educated, and he was calm and methodical.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I did exactly what he said. I put all the cash I had in his plastic bag. I expected him to order me to open my safe, but he didn’t. He apparently saw my telephone on the shelf behind me, so he told me to turn around, disconnect the handset from the phone, and place the handset in the bag. That’s exactly what he said. I recall every word. ‘Turn around, disconnect the handset from the phone, and place the handset in the bag.’ He spoke very slow, very deliberate.”

  “Did you do that?”

  “I did. When I turned around, I expected my head to explode any second, but he never fired his weapon. He was still standing there when I turned to face him again. I placed the handset in the plastic bag with the cash and handed it to him. He didn’t say another word—just ran out the back door.”

  “And what did you do then, Mr. Patel?”

  “I looked out the front window, and I saw there was a car in the parking lot. It must have just pulled up, because it wasn’t there when that man walked into the store. I wanted to go outside and call for help, but I didn’t know if this car was connected to the robbery. It could have been a getaway car. I waited a minute or two and then went to the front door and opened it just a little to get a better view of the car. It had a military sticker from Ft. Stewart on it, and there was a man with a military haircut sitting behind the steering wheel. I took a chance and ran out and told him that I had just been robbed. He said, ‘I saw it. I just called 911.’”

  “Now, Mr. Patel, I want you to look around this courtroom and tell me if you see the man who held that pistol on you that night. Is he in the courtroom?”

  Patel looked over at the two tables. At one was Daniel Mackay, and at the other was Denis Nolan. He looked over at the jury and then at the bailiffs, court clerk, and reporter. He looked at the defendant seated off to one side of the defense table and to Troy Morrison seated off to the other side. And then he gazed into the expanse of faces peering out from the rows of benches in the spectators’ section. But he said nothing. Scott stiffened and breathed nervously.

  Finally, Mr. Patel spoke. “Yes, he is.”

  “Would you point to him?”

  The witness pointed directly at the defendant. “That’s him, right over there, in the blue suit and red tie.”

  Scott heaved a sigh of relief, and the testimony from Patel continued. He told the jury how much money was taken and described the arrival of the investigators.

  When Scott had finished his examination, Judge Desano turned to Denis Nolan for cross-examination. Nolan stood and picked up a yellow pad on which he had his notes and walked to the lectern.

  “Mr. Patel, do you know the names of any other customers who entered your store on the day you were robbed?” asked Nolan.

  “Not really. That was over two years ago, you know.”

  “Yes, I do know. And now, you can’t recall any of them?”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “This man who entered your store—had you ever seen him before that night?”

  “No.”

  “And today is the first time you have seen him face to face since that night?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “But you picked Mr. Harrison out of that photo lineup, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And that was almost two years after the robbery, right?”

  “I believe so.”

  These last two questions puzzled Scott. When Harrison was represented by the Public Defender’s office, his attorney, Sidney Ellis, had succeeded in having all reference to the photo ID suppressed. Why would Nolan ask those questions? Was this merely another display of Nolan’s incompetence, or was it some ploy to prompt Scott to pursue the matter on redirect exam and risk a mistrial motion? Scott decided to just let it pass.

  “And it has now been over two years since that robbery, right?” asked Nolan.

  “Yes. Two years and four months.”

  Nolan dropped his yellow pad on the lectern and stepped to the side. “Now let me make sure I understand your testimony today,” he continued. “Your testimony is that twenty-eight months ago, someone wearing dark sunglasses walked into your store, pointed a pistol in your face, and robbed you, and you haven’t seen him again until today, but you can still identify him?”

  Scott stood. “Objection, Your Honor. Compound and argumentative.”

  “Sustained.”

  “Would it surprise you, Mr. Patel, that I don’t believe it possible for anyone to make such an identification after so many months? Do you expect the jury to believe your story?”

  Scott was on his feet. “Objection, Your Honor. Counsel is stating a personal opinion. It’s also a compound question and argumentative.”

  “Sustained. It is all that and more. The jury is instructed to disregard the last question—the last questions—by defense counsel.”

  Nolan remained standing. After a lengthy pause, he continued his examination without the help of his yellow pad.

  “Why are you so sure that this is the man who robbed you?”

  It was a terrible question. He should have stuck to the questions that Max had provided on the yellow pad. He would forever regret asking it. For a long moment, Patel looked intently at Nolan, who had moved to just a few feet directly in front of him. Patel turned and faced the jury before responding.

  “Let me state why I am so sure. I looked at this man holding the pistol in my face, and I saw a person who appeared to have everything going for him—physically handsome, well-spoken, obviously well-educated—such a fortunate person. He looked like the son I never had but always wanted. Why would he be doing this? I was afraid, yes. He had the pistol pointed at me. But I also hoped that someday I would have the opportunity to identify him in court, like this court, this day. I was determined to remember every feature about him. As he stood there before me, he was just a few feet away.” Patel paused and again faced Nolan.

  “Even closer than you are now.” And then, to the jury once more, he continued. “And the lighting was good. It was a short time, yes, but I made a careful study. I studied his height and his body size and shape. I studied the texture and color of his hair, the shape and size of his nose, his lips, his chin, his ears, the size and length of his neck, the complexion of his skin. The only thing I missed was his eyes because of his dark glasses. I have a good mind for recognizing and remembering people, and I stored every feature of this man in my mind so that, when the time came, I could recall it. I have seen that image in my mind every day since I saw him that night. It has remained unchanged. There is no question in my mind—there is the man who robbed me.”

  Nolan was stunned by the response. The courtroom had become absolutely silent during Patel’s testimony and remained silent. Nolan stood, a totally frozen figure, facing Patel. Time passed slowly. Neither Nolan nor anyone else in the courtroom stirred.

  Finally, Judge Desano asked, “Any further questions, Mr. Nolan?”

  There were none.

  Scott was quickly on his feet. “I have no redirect,
Your Honor. The state rests.”

  Scott anticipated that the defense would make a motion for a judgment of acquittal, as is customary in criminal trials at the conclusion of the state’s case, even if merely pro forma. He was prepared to argue the motion—even had a “Memorandum of Law” prepared for it and stashed in his trial notebook. No such motion was made. Nolan had not moved since Patel’s testimony. He remained standing, a vacant look on his face, immobile since the devastating response to his “why” question. Only when Judge Desano announced that the court would take a twenty-minute recess before hearing the defense evidence did he move. Scott watched him as he walked to the back of the courtroom to confer with Max Gordon. An animated conversation followed. It was obvious that the coach was not pleased with his pupil.

  When the court reconvened, the defense announced it would not be calling any witnesses. Scott was surprised as well as disappointed. He had looked forward to getting some questions answered, starting with the source of the defendant’s hair piece. Not who purchased it, but who came up with the idea. Those questions and a dozen others, including what the defendant knew of the “look-alikes with the red ties” would remain unanswered.

  Also not in evidence was just who the defendant was. No evidence at all was presented that he was the son of Senator David Harrison, as stated by Max Gordon during his flawed opening, and certainly there was nothing to justify Gordon’s claim that the trial resulted from a politician “failing to keep his friends close and his enemies closer.” There was not even a hint of political intrigue. Scott was sure the jury was as perplexed with the absence of this promised evidence as he was.

  Judge Desano immediately called on the state to make its closing argument. Scott had not expected his closing to come before the afternoon session. He anticipated having the lunch hour or at least a short recess for last-minute preparations. The defense decision to put on no evidence was bringing the trial to a rapid close.

  Scott rose to address the jury. Most of his argument went as he had rehearsed it. He gave the obligatory thanks to the jury for their service and the attention they displayed during the trial. He told the jury that the simple question to be answered is this: Is John Harrison the person who stuck the pistol in Vijay Patel’s face and robbed him? He explained the proof required for the crime of robbery. Then he concentrated on the careful testimony of Patel, and he ended by exhorting the jury to bring in the only verdict that “speaks the truth”—a verdict of guilty.