Every Reasonable Doubt (30 page)

W
hen I walked into the crowded courtroom the next day, I felt nervous, but not in an anxious or tense way. Unlike my experience the first day of the prelim, I didn’t want to throw up. I wanted to dance a jig around the courtroom.

Neddy and I had stayed at the office until almost one. I’d always had a knack for quickly memorizing things, so committing the closing to memory went pretty fast. We then spent the rest of the night working on technique. Our styles were quite different so we traded pointers. Neddy gave me feedback on my pacing, eye contact, physical stance, and facial expressions. Even though I’d only had four hours of sleep, I felt energized.

Tina seemed fine with the idea of my delivering the closing, but only after Neddy lobbied for the switch. David, surprisingly, didn’t seem put out about it either.

Julie was already seated in the courtroom when we arrived. For the past couple of days, she had been playing hide-n-seek with the media. The courtroom was the one place where they couldn’t hurl questions at her. She was no longer the smug face of contentment. She looked sleep-deprived and she wasn’t dressed in one of her snappiest outfits. The dark brown suit she wore seemed too big around the shoulders. Her light blue blouse, like her face, had little of its original color left. Her chipped nail polish told me she was up too late rehearsing her closing to deal with minor cosmetic matters.

Neddy walked over to Julie before she could sit down. “My client isn’t interested in your offer.”

“Fine,” Julie barked back.

Judge Graciano climbed onto the bench and wasted no time getting things rolling. “Ms. Killabrew, you may proceed with your closing,” she said, almost the minute she took the bench.

Julie rose tentatively and walked about five feet from the jury box and faced the panel. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” she began. “I’ll be the first to admit that there’ve been quite a few surprises in this trial. But I don’t want you to be swayed by surprises or by clever trial tactics or by the kind of emotional stuff you see on those legal dramas on TV. This isn’t
Law & Order
or
The Practice
. In real life, you must look at the facts. If you do that in this case, the only option you have is to return a guilty verdict.”

Julie quickly reviewed the “facts,” a word she hammered away at repeatedly as she went through the testimony of each of the prosecution’s witnesses. “It’s a fact that Tina Montgomery was married to a man who, for twenty-seven years, did nothing but betray her. That’s a fact the defense didn’t even bother to dispute,” Julie said, turning to look Neddy’s way for effect.

“It’s also a fact that Mrs. Montgomery wanted her husband dead. She’d said as much to her lover, Garrett Bryson, on more than one occasion. I suspect the defense will ask you to disregard his testimony. They want you to believe he wanted revenge because Mrs. Montgomery supposedly refused to loan him money. But those aren’t the facts, ladies and gentlemen. As he testified, Mr. Bryson didn’t come forward willingly to give his testimony. If he’d had an ax to grind, he would’ve run to the police with his story. But he didn’t do that. He still considered the defendant his friend. He didn’t want to testify, but the law compelled him to. There is no valid reason for you not to believe Mr. Bryson’s testimony that the defendant wanted her husband dead.

Julie walked over to the prosecution table and picked up an enlarged photograph of the lobby of the Ritz with people milling about in evening wear. She held it out in front of her for the jury to see. “It’s also a fact that Mrs. Montgomery was at the Ritz Carlton hosting some fancy fundraiser on the night her husband was killed. And we know that Mr. Oscar Lopez, a room service waiter, saw her headed toward her husband’s hotel room.” She put down the photograph and picked up the murder weapon. “Just like they’re going to try to discredit Mr. Bryson’s testimony, the defense also wants you to believe that Mr. Lopez didn’t really see what, in fact, he saw—the defendant, steak knife in hand, marching down that hallway. Don’t fall for the defense’s attempt at deception.”

She placed the knife on the prosecution table and walked over to the jury box. “Try as they might, there’s a lot of testimony in this case, testimony that the defense did not, and could not, refute. Testimony that they would like you to ignore.” Julie took her time, staring earnestly at each member of the panel, taking them step by step through the evidence.

“A member of Mrs. Montgomery’s fundraising committee testified that during the middle of the event, the defendant disappeared for upwards of an hour at about the same time Mr. Lopez saw her in that hallway. What was Mrs. Montgomery doing all that time? Based on the evidence, she was maliciously stabbing her husband to death because she was finally fed up with his constant betrayal. Ladies and gentlemen, the facts of this case make it clear that Mrs. Montgomery had motive, as well as opportunity, to commit this heinous crime.”

It was another ten minutes before Julie moved on to attack the testimony of the two doctors. “The defense is quite aware of the damaging evidence introduced by the prosecution,” she continued. “That’s why they came up with their last-minute theory about an aneurysm. How convenient. ‘Mr. Montgomery was already dead, so let my client walk,’ is basically what they’re saying to you. Don’t buy it. Why? Because their defense is nothing but a sham. Dr. Riddick is a paid medical expert and for that reason, his testimony is suspect. As for Dr. Davis, I can’t dispute Mr. Montgomery’s medical history, but what the defense is trying to sell you is just too convenient, too coincidental. Don’t you think it’s a little strange that Dr. Davis would diagnose Mr. Montgomery with something as serious as an aneurysm, then do nothing when he refused to have life-saving surgery? Didn’t he have an obligation to at least alert the man’s wife?”

Julie pursed her lips and feigned indignation. “Since the defense couldn’t refute the facts of this case, what did they do?” She paused, then snapped her fingers. “They dream up some ruse to draw your attention away from the facts, away from the evidence. I wonder what TV show they got their aneurysm theory from.
ER
?CSI, perhaps?”

I saw Juror No. 7 roll her eyes. She didn’t appreciate the personal dig at us.

“Don’t let the defense get away with this sham,” Julie said, lowering her voice almost to a whisper. “And don’t let Tina Montgomery get away with murder.”

Nobody moved, including me, as Julie made her way back to her seat. With the exception of Juror No. 7, I couldn’t tell one way or the other how well Julie’s closing had resonated with the panel.

The judge called a fifteen-minute recess.

“You ready?” Neddy asked, after the judge left the bench.

I inhaled. “Yep. What did you think of Julie’s closing?”

“Decent,” Neddy said. “But she was bouncing all over the place. She didn’t have a clear theme. And it was a mistake to attack our aneurysm theory the way she did. The standard of proof is reasonable doubt. And the medical evidence we produced presents a whole lot of it.”

“I think I’m going to stray a bit from the closing we rehearsed,” I told Neddy.

“What? Why?” She looked worried.

“I want to play off Julie’s closing,” I said.

Neddy paused. “Are you sure? You memorized your closing perfectly last night.”

“I think I am,” I said, feeling a burst of confidence.

Neddy gave me a warm smile. “Okay, girl, do your thing.”

The fifteen-minute recess felt more like fifteen seconds to me.

“Is the defense ready?” the judge asked, directing her question to Neddy. “Yes,” I said standing. There was a silent rumbling in the courtroom as I took the floor. Julie leaned over and whispered something to Sandy.

As I approached the jury box, I reminded myself to speak slowly and deliberately as Neddy had advised, and to make eye contact with each individual member of the jury at some point during my closing.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” I began, “Ms. Killabrew was right. This case has been full of surprises. And I have to say, no one was more surprised than me to find evidence that an aneurysm, and not stab wounds, had killed Mr. Montgomery.”

“Objection, Your Honor!” Julie shot up so far out of her seat, she almost hit the ceiling. “Counsel is not permitted to make unsupported personal statements. Her closing must stick to the evidence.”

My ad-lib wasn’t starting out too well. I couldn’t even remember what I’d just said. I could see alarm in Neddy’s face. I refused to even look at Tina. For a second, I thought I saw O’Reilly sitting in the back row. When I looked again, he wasn’t there. Was I so nervous now that I was hallucinating?

It was somewhat taboo to make an objection during a closing argument and anyway, I was sure I’d heard her mention her own opinion during her closing. She had taken me out of my groove. I had to relax and get back on track. I cracked my knuckles and turned to Judge Graciano before she could rule on Julie’s objection.

“I’m sorry, Your Honor, Ms. Killabrew is correct. My opinion doesn’t count. It’s the evidence that matters. It won’t happen again.” I said a quick prayer and returned to my closing. “Ms. Killabrew wants you to look at the facts,” I said.” “Well, so do I. But I want you to focus on the
undisputed
facts.”

“Undisputed fact number one,” I said, holding up my index finger, “there’s no evidence linking Mrs. Montgomery to the scene of the crime. No blood, no hair, no fibers…nothing. Based on that alone, there’s reasonable doubt.”

I held up two fingers now. “Undisputed fact number two, the prosecution’s so-called eyewitness, Oscar Lopez—to put it simply—is not credible. He testified that he saw Tina Montgomery carrying a knife, then admitted to two of his coworkers that he really wasn’t sure he saw her with a knife after all. And considering how dim the lighting was in that hotel hallway, it’s understandable that he was confused about what he saw. Mr. Lopez told you himself that he didn’t remember whether the woman he saw was wearing earrings or not, how her hair was styled, or whether her dress was long or short. That’s not surprising when you consider that Mr. Lopez hasn’t had his eyes examined in over ten years. Again, there’s reasonable doubt.”

I felt light on my feet as I walked from one end of the jury box to the other. I looked at Juror No. 7. Her eyes told me she was definitely rooting for me. I was straying quite a bit from the closing argument I’d rehearsed with Neddy, but Juror No. 7 let me know that my ad-lib was going over big, at least with her.

“Undisputed fact number three.” I held up three fingers now. “Garrett Bryson, who claimed Mrs. Montgomery wanted her husband dead, was nothing more than a spurned gigolo. And for that reason, he’s not credible either. My client refused to loan him fifty thousand dollars. Simply put, revenge fueled his testimony.”

I continued in the same vein, reinforcing each and every fact in our favor and attacking the facts against us, methodically taking each one and logically explaining why it provided a basis for reasonable doubt.

“Finally,” I said, “there’s the cause of death. I marched over to the defense table and picked up the autopsy report. I was hitting my stride now. I felt like I was in total control of the courtroom. I’d had great closing arguments before, but this one felt very different. I had just stepped up to the plate, gripped the bat, and was about to whack a homerun straight across centerfield.

“There’s no dispute that Mr. Montgomery had an excessive amount of blood in his cranium. It’s right here in the autopsy report,” I said, holding the document in one hand, pointing to it with the other. “We didn’t make that up. The prosecution could’ve brought the coroner back to explain to you why he missed this. But she didn’t. Why? Maybe it would be too embarrassing for him to have to admit his big mistake.

“You also heard two doctors, Dr. Riddick and Dr. Davis, tell you that intracranial bleeding was evidence of a ruptured aneurysm. And just weeks before his death, Dr. Davis had advised Mr. Montgomery that he had a brain aneurysm that could kill him instantly if he did not have surgery. But, as you heard Dr. Davis testify, Mr. Montgomery ignored that advice.

“Both Dr. Riddick and Dr. Davis testified that, in their trained medical opinions, it was highly unlikely that Mr. Montgomery suffered an aneurysm
after
he was stabbed. If he’d been stabbed to death, there wouldn’t have been enough pressure in the brain to cause Mr. Montgomery’s aneurysm to rupture. There’s nothing ‘convenient’ or ‘coincidental’ about their testimony. Mr. Montgomery was already dead when he was stabbed in that bathtub. The aneurysm killed him. Not the stab wounds and not his loving wife, who stayed by his side for nearly three decades despite some very trying circumstances.”

I looked over at Neddy, who smiled at me. “Those are the
undisputed facts
, ladies and gentlemen.” I turned and nodded in Julie’s direction. “The prosecution and the defense are in complete agreement on one thing. When you retire to the jury room to begin your deliberations, we both want you to look solely at the facts. If you do that, you can only come to one conclusion…that Tina Montgomery is innocent of the charge of murder.”

I walked back to the defense table and took my seat. Everybody’s eyes were on me. The jury, the judge, the spectators, and even the prosecution seemed to be frozen in place. I’d definitely given it my best shot. I wasn’t really sure how well my closing had gone until Tina, who’d barely said two words to me since the trial began, gently squeezed my forearm and whispered, “Thank you. You were incredible!”

N
eddy, Detective Smith, and I escaped to a tiny Chinese restaurant not far from the courthouse. The court clerk had given us a pager that would buzz when the jury had reached a verdict, had a question, or needed some testimony read back. David stayed at the courthouse with Tina, who was convinced that it would be a short deliberation and didn’t want to leave. I wasn’t so sure.

We were shown to a small table covered in a worn, checkered tablecloth. Detective Smith pulled out Neddy’s chair and waited for her to sit, then realized he had neglected to extend the same courtesy to me. He belatedly reached over to do so, but I was already seated.

“So if it’s a hung jury, which jurors do we have to thank?” Detective Smith asked, as he poured tea into a tiny cup for Neddy, then for me.

“Juror No. 7, for sure,” Neddy and I said in unison, with tired chuckles.

Detective Smith wrinkled his brow in surprise.

“You think so?”

“Hell, yes,” Neddy said. “That sister is definitely identifying with Tina. She’s probably had a man or two step out on her.”

“And based on the attitude on her face,” I said, “I bet she’s banged a few of ‘em upside the head in her day.” We all laughed.

“I don’t see it.” Detective Smith rested his hands on the table. “My money’s on Juror No. 8. She frowned every time Julie opened her mouth.” Juror No. 8 was a fortyish white woman.

“Maybe,” Neddy said. “But did you see Juror No. 7’s face every time somebody talked about Max’s endless supply of women? She would roll her eyes and her lips would turn down in the corners in a little snit. I think she definitely thought Max deserved what he got.”

Nobody laughed this time.

“I just hope they don’t come back with a guilty verdict.” Neddy opened her menu, then closed it. “Tina’ll never make it in prison.”

“Prison?” Detective Smith said. “I thought the prosecution filed this as a special-circumstances case. We need to be worried about the death penalty, don’t we?”

“That was just a bluff,” Neddy replied. “Julie never mentioned it again after the arraignment.”

We ordered and talked for a while longer, exchanging our views on various aspects of the trial. When a waitress set dishes of shrimp fried rice, kung pao chicken, egg rolls and beef with broccoli on the table in front of us, we all reached for a sample of each and ate in silence. In minutes we sat staring at empty plates.

“Guess we were pretty hungry, huh?” Detective Smith said, looking stuffed, which was hard to do for a man his size.

Neddy and I smiled at each other. It wouldn’t have been polite to point out to Detective Smith that he had gobbled down three-fourths of the food.

“Well, if Tina is acquitted,” he said, “she owes her freedom to you two.” He squeezed Neddy’s forearm and grinned. “You’ve both done a helluva job.”

Neddy raised her hands, palms outward. “Hold on,” she said. “She has David to thank. He was the one who scrutinized that autopsy report, which led to the discovery of Max’s aneurysm.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Detective Smith insisted. “Even if you guys hadn’t discovered that evidence, the jury was already leaning your way.”

I felt compelled to join in. “Neddy, Tina owes you a lot, too,” I said. “You tried the case under some pretty difficult circumstances and you never doubted her innocence. I don’t know if I could’ve held up the way you did with everything you’ve been going through.”

I didn’t realize the irony of my words until they were already out. I had been carrying a pretty heavy burden myself. During the day, when the trial consumed my every thought, my marital woes remained somewhere in the distance, outside of my peripheral vision. But the minute I stepped through my front door, they came crashing back into focus. For a second, my thoughts lingered on Jefferson and I wondered what he was doing. Was he with another woman? I tried to shake that frightening image from my mind.

“No matter how it goes,” I said, squeezing Neddy’s shoulder, “it’s been an incredible experience for me. I’ve definitely learned a lot from watching you these last few weeks.”

“Hey, hold up,” Neddy said, forming a time-out signal with her hands. “You guys are into overkill now.”

“Well, win or lose,” Detective Smith said, “Tina Montgomery couldn’t have had a better defense team.” He covered Neddy’s hand with his and she actually blushed.

We chatted some more about our perceptions of some of the jurors while we waited for the check. Detective Smith stood up and headed for the men’s room, giving me a chance to talk to Neddy alone. I’d been noticing the sparks flying back and forth between the two of them and I was anxious to find out whether my instincts were right.

“Is there something going on between you and the detective?” I asked.

“What? What makes you say that?” The glow on her face contradicted her words.

“Because the man is all over you. Every chance he gets, he reaches across the table to touch you. And he talks about you like you were God’s gift to the law.”

Neddy smiled again. “You’re exaggerating. He complimented you, too.”

“Yeah, but his eyes didn’t light up when he talked about me. And he didn’t pull out my chair when we sat down at the table like he did yours. Now I understand why we got all those investigation reports so quickly. He was trying to score points with you.”

“You’re imagining things. Detective Smith has been totally professional. And after all I’ve been through, a man is the last thing on my mind right now. “

“Yeah, okay,” I said skeptically. “I bet as soon as this trial is over, he’s going to be on you like white on rice.”

“No way,” she said, but something in her eyes told me she wasn’t as opposed to that scenario as she was professing to be.

“How’s Jefferson?” she asked.

I briefly closed my eyes. “I wish I knew.”

Neddy’s head involuntarily jerked backward. “What do you mean you wish you knew?”

“I didn’t tell you, but Jefferson moved out.” I picked up the glass of water in front of me and took a quick sip.

“Moved out!” Neddy exclaimed. “When? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. She was practically out of her seat. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I came home one night and he was gone.” Tears began to well up in my eyes. “I knew he was upset about the trial taking up so much of my time, but I didn’t know he was
that
upset.”

“I can’t believe this! When did he leave?”

“It’s been over a week.”

Neddy reached out and hugged me. Her embrace was a big comfort. “I can’t believe you’ve been dealing with that on top of the demands of this trial.”

“I can’t believe it either. I miss him so much.” I dabbed at the corner of my eyes with my napkin.

“Hang in there, girl,” Neddy said, encouragingly. “From what I’ve heard, it sounds like you’ve got yourself a good man. He’ll come to his senses.”

“Well, I’m just giving him his space and hoping he does.”

Detective Smith rushed up to us, snatched some money from his wallet and tossed it on the table. “The pager just went off,” he said. “Let’s go.”

When we got back to the courtroom, it was empty except for Julie and Sandy, the court clerk, and the bailiff. Tina and David walked in a few seconds later. They had been across the street at a sandwich shop.

Julie seemed to be purposely ignoring us. I made eye contact with Sandy but there was absolutely nothing to read in her bland brown eyes.

The jury had been deliberating for just over two hours. I didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one. Had they reached a verdict already? Maybe they wanted a portion of the transcript reread.

After a few minutes, the clerk escorted us into the judge’s private chambers.

The judge straightened the papers on her desk while we all scrambled for seats. The bailiff brought in an extra chair. Tina, Neddy and I took the couch, while David, Sandy and Julie sat in chairs, forming a semi-circle around the perimeter of the judge’s desk.

The tiny room resembled a high school counselor’s office. It had rusty, metal-lined windows that opened with a crank, a couple of neglected house plants and an entire wall of bookshelves containing casebooks nobody opened anymore because the same information was more easily accessible online.

My heart was racing. I could only imagine how Tina felt.

“The jury has indicated that they’re deadlocked,” the judge said.

Tina’s body wilted with relief. Neddy looked over at me, her eyes flashing victory. We would have preferred an acquittal, but we’d take our win any way we could get it.

Julie could barely contain herself. “Your Honor, the jury hasn’t even deliberated for a full day yet. They’re probably just anxious to go home. I would strongly urge you to instruct them to continue with their deliberations to see if they can reach a verdict.”

Judge Graciano frowned at her. “If you had let me finish, you would’ve learned that that is exactly what I intend to do. I’d never dismiss a jury in a case of this magnitude after such a brief deliberation. I just wanted to give you all advance notice of my decision.”

The judge leaned back in her chair. “The jury’s been consumed with this case for quite some time and they probably just need a break. I’m calling a recess for the day and having them resume their deliberations tomorrow morning at nine.”