Enemy in Blue (45 page)

“
It's been a madhouse. Took thirty minutes just to get through security.”

“
Have you guys seen the crowd outside lately?”

“
We've avoided getting up,” Martinez answered. “It's almost impossible to move around.” Mason and Sphinx came into the courtroom. It was a quarter past eight in the morning. Jury selection was supposed to start at eight-thirty.

“
How come you aren't with Mason?” Sandra asked Cruz.

“
With the videotape gone, and only having a few witnesses, they don't need my help. It's better to keep it separate anyway. One attorney working on it, knowing all aspects of the case as if it were his child. That's better. Besides, that leaves me free to testify if necessary.”

Mason threw his briefcase down on the counsel's table and pulled out a pad of yellow legal paper.

“
Did you guys reach a plea deal?” Cruz asked facetiously. “Not that you'd want to disappoint the masses.”

“
No, that shithead wants a dismissal of the charges or nothing. Amazing. He's only able to take that position because of what happened with the video. So, I told the press about it. Fuck'im.” Mason sat down and let out a long exhale. “Ten minutes.”

“
They must have devoured that.”

“
Yeah, they ate it up. It'll only stir the pot some more,” Mason said. “Listen, all three of you,” Mason said, turning to them fully. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his face looked tired, worn down. “I need your help with jury selection. This judge is a joke. No jury questionnaires. Twenty minutes per side for
voir dire
. It's unconscionable.”

“
How can we help?” Sandra asked.

“
I'll be talking to the prospective jurors, so I could use your collective eyes and ears. Watch these people when they answer my questions. Analyze their posture, their gestures, their tone. I'll be able to gather information too, but your perspectives would be very helpful. Let me know if your gut gives you a bad feeling about any of them.” He pulled something out of his briefcase. “I had one of these made for you guys too.”

It was a chart, blown up to about three times the size of a regular sheet of paper. “Number the chart in correlation to the prospective jurors and keep your notes on there. When it's time to use the peremptory challenges, we'll compare my notes to yours.”

There was a click at the back of the courtroom. The crowd grew silent and Mason stopped talking. Cruz saw Todd slip into the courtroom and then slide into place next to Mason.

“
Phew,” he said.

A bailiff stood up and bellowed, “All rise for the honorable Judge Fredrick Melburn.” A collective rustle took place as everyone stood up in a church-like creak of benches and crack of people's joints as they moved in unison. Cruz watched as the crotchety judge made his way to the bench, a toad in an oversized gown, he thought. The judge took the bench and told the courtroom to be seated without an upward glance.

“
Appearances.”

Mason stood up, “Mason West for the State.”

“
Sphinx for the Defendant, Sergeant Colin Shaver.”

“
Counsel, I see this is set for a three-day trial. If you need to ask for more time, now is the time to do it.”

Mason stood up again, “Counsel for the defendant and I have discussed the issue, Your Honor, and we think three days will be sufficient.”

Judge Melburn looked at Sphinx. “That's correct, Your Honor. Nothing further to add.”

“
Fine then. Bailiff, bring in the prospective jurors.”

Sandra leaned over to Cruz and asked, “What exactly are we looking for?”

Cruz looked at the judge to make sure they weren't going to get into trouble for talking. The judge looked disengaged, toying with something in front of him. “Just give us your perceptions. Gut feelings are like gold in this process.”

“
I don't know this process, Cruz.”

He peeked at the judge again before going on, “The process is called
voir dire
, a fancy French way of saying jury selection. Mason will get twenty minutes to talk to the jurors. In talking to them he hopes to accomplish several goals.”

“
Such as?” asked Martinez, now intrigued by the conversation.

“
Well, the superficial goal is to select the jury. Mason will do that by asking them questions and then trying to read them for biases. It goes much deeper than that though. This is his first chance to connect with the jury. Studies have shown that jurors make judgments at the very beginning of the case. That means if a juror prejudges your client as guilty, you have to work that much harder to disprove that judgment. On the other hand, if that juror prejudges your client to be not guilty, then you just have to reinforce that prejudgment throughout the trial. Mason will weave his theme into the process, to begin to inculcate the jury.”

First though, each juror had to stand up and read through a list of questions posted on a wall behind the judge. Their names, age, occupation and other seemingly tedious details. Many judges had moved away from this practice. It made the jurors uncomfortable and could set a negative tone at the beginning of the case. Judge Melburn couldn't care less. The worker gave his name, address, occupation and “something interesting” about himself. As if that would lend any humanity to the process.

The jury pool was a mix, as always. There was a male engineer, two teachers, a grocery store clerk, a doctor, two unemployed people, several businesspeople, a construction worker, a car mechanic, a jockey and one lady that described herself as an entertainer. There were others too, a total of twenty-three prospective jurors in the box. Five peremptory challenges per side left twelve jurors and an alternate. The alternate didn't know he or she was an alternate. Cruz always thought that was a raw deal. To go through an entire trial and then to be told you were the alternate and you wouldn't be deciding anything at all.

The recitation flowed through the prospective jurors until one of the teachers stood up. She was a fourth-grade teacher, plump, large glasses. Wiry, unkempt hair hung randomly around her face. Her voice barely carried over the ongoing buzz of the courtroom. Tawny Redknight.

“
It's important to have followers in the jury,” Cruz said.

“
She's a teacher though. She can control people.” Sandra whispered.

“
A follower with adults, a controller with children,” he responded. Cruz put a check in the box corresponding to Tawny.

The engineer stood up next. He wore an argyle, short-sleeve collared shirt. It was brown, pale blue and yellow. At least the brown matched his pants.

“
What do you guys think about him?” Cruz asked. The engineer fumbled through his script.

“
Can't hurt that he's black,” Martinez suggested. “Maybe some sympathy points there.”

“
I also liked his honesty,” Sandra added. Cruz added a check next to the engineer's name—Lucius Keller.

When all of the jurors finished their burdensome task, it was time for Mason to begin his
voir dire
. “Twenty minutes for the State,” Judge Melburn said as he slammed his fist down on a timer next to him. It looked like one of the timers used at chess matches.

Cruz watched as Mason began his dialogue with the prospective jurors. He was good in front of them. Serious but with a soft tone. Confident but not arrogant. Most importantly, trustworthy. He was setting himself out to be the teacher, the one who would guide the jurors to their conclusion. Sphinx was way more flash. Drama, awe. Mason would be a chalkboard to Sphinx's PowerPoint presentation. Cruz was interested to see how that dynamic played out. Jurors could be turned on or off by Sphinx's style.

Cruz took notes while watching Mason talk to the prospective jurors. Sandra whispered, “Juror number eighteen seems too into this. It looks like she's itching to be on this jury.”

“
Can you get a feel for why? Does she want to be on the jury to prosecute Shaver or not?” Cruz asked.

Martinez added, “She's given me a couple of weird looks. Like, 'we're in this together.' I'm not sure she knows who the hell I am.” Cruz put a big “X” in the space for juror number eighteen.

They proceeded this way, tagging along with Mason through the
voir dire
until his twenty minutes ran out. Sphinx stood up next. His approach was to glamor the jury. Flash diamond studs. Wave pinstripes. Hang his left hand a little bit lower from the weight of his watch. He played the card well though. People were enraptured by a six-foot-five tall, handsomely brown, meticulously dressed man.

Cruz saw juror number seven smile nervously as Sphinx looked at her. “Sandra, watch that juror. What's your female nature tell you?”

Sandra watched her for a few seconds. “Oh boy, she's a sucker for him.”

Cruz crossed number seven out. They watched as Sphinx did a number with the jury. It was masterful in some instances. He broached certain bounds in others. Cruz watched earnestly, noting when Sphinx's grandeur perturbed the jurors.

Mason turned around and showed his sheet to them. A person sitting on a bench behind them leaned into the conversation. Martinez gave him a hard stare. “I've got a large 'NO' next to eighteen,” Mason said.

Cruz smiled. It was nice to have their instincts verified by another person. “Same with us.”

“
We thought twenty-one, the engineer, he could be a good one,” Cruz said.

“
I was on the fence about him. He's so damn nervous. I can't tell if its just because he's a geek engineer or if there's something more,” Mason responded.

“
I think he's being honest,” Sandra said, lifting one shoulder to shrug off her own insecurity in being a part of this process.

“
You know, I can see that, Sandra,” Mason said. He put a check mark next to Lucius. “We have to hurry, Sphinx is wrapping up.”

“
What about the jockey?” Cruz asked. “What the hell's that about anyway? I didn't know they existed outside of the track.” The rest of them stifled laughter. “What? It's weird.” Cruz scratched the back of his head.

“
He's bound to have a Napoleon complex. He could be the ring leader. Is that what you want?” Sandra asked.

“
You guys told me to rely on my gut. I don't like him,” Martinez said.

“
Sometimes you need the ring leader, and I don't see much strength in the rest of them. I'm going to have to veto you guys on this one,” Mason said. “What about this teacher. Tawny...Tawny Red-something.”

“
I like her,” Cruz jumped in. “She'll follow.”

“
Who do we strike then?”

Cruz pointed at two. The doctor and one of the businesspeople.

“
The small-business owner? Really? I liked him,” Mason said.

“
I don't know, Mason. But, you've done this a bunch more. I'd go with your instincts.”

“
We keep the business guy, we'll ditch the doctor. I think we dump the
entertainer
too.”

“
No way,” Sandra said so emphatically that they all looked at her. “She's been there. She's been on the side of abuse. I bet she's got some intense emotions. You guys have picked mostly cold, logical people. There has to be some emotion in that group.”

Mason's pen hesitated on his chart. “Counsel, your peremptory strikes,” Judge Melburn demanded. Mason and Sphinx took turns calling out the number of a juror until each had used their strikes.

“
Mason left the entertainer,” Cruz said.

“
Her name is Dawn.”

“
More like Diamond,” Martinez said sarcastically.

“
Wait till she's our winner,” Sandra said. Cruz noticed she was taking some ownership and he liked it. Mason sat down with a huff.

“
We got to keep all the ones we wanted,” Cruz said.

* * * *

Tawny sat in the middle of a small, crowded room of prospective jurors. The temperature plus nerves plus tight quarters made it all nearly unbearable. She took the note card with her juror information and fanned herself. She used her other hand to play with the tag hanging off of her purse handle. A Mexican man sat to her right. He was in overalls and had a hat pulled down low over his eyes. He stared into nothing. A white man sat on her other side. He had his iPhone turned sideways and was typing furiously. The clerk had told them no phones. She considered saying something to the man, but then thought better of it. Despite this hesitation, she started to reach her hand out to him to say something but stopped. Sensing it, he looked at her. She turned away, red-faced.

They had been waiting for over an hour in that sweltering room. Amazing it was so hot this early, she thought to herself. Was supposed to get to eighty by mid-day, uncharacteristically warm for this time of year. The note card told her to get there by seven. Once they arrived, the clerk told them that court would start at nine a.m. So they waited around for no apparent reason.

The door to the room cracked open. Everyone lifted their heads, but the door just shut again. Tawny went back to toying with the tag. She thought about her students who she hated leaving with substitute teachers. They were her kids, her wards. The substitute was nice enough but it was always hard when the normal rules were suspended for a day. The kids felt they had carte blanche when she came back.