Page 43 of The 1 Lawyer

“That’s not why we’re here. My client is not on trial for going out to dinner with Aurora Gates. He’s not on trial for sending and receiving racy text messages.”

When the angry juror rolled her eyes, I stepped to the middle of the box and focused on a juror I thought might be easier to persuade. “He’s not on trial for having sex with Aurora Gates over a period of months; he’s not on trial for getting her pregnant. He’s not charged with having a sexual encounter with her days before her death, which he admitted to you.”

My next target: the people in the second row who’d recoiled from Gordon-James’s argument. “He’s not here today for lying to his wife or for failing to enjoy his wife’s television programs.” I lowered my voice and said, “If it were a crime to fight over TV choices with your spouse, ladies and gentlemen, we’d all be in jail.”

That line got a smirk out of three men in the box. Bingo.

“When you think about this case, recall that this is what the State has proven with its evidence—that’s it, ladies and gentlemen. The DA proved my client cheated on his wife with Aurora Gates. No doubt about it. And he got Ms. Gates pregnant.

“What you have to find to return a guilty verdict, though, is that the DA proved to you beyond a reasonable doubt that this man, Daniel Caro—this doctor who faithfully serves our community—assaulted and raped Aurora Gates, shot her in the chest, and threw her body into the water near Popp’s Ferry Bridge. You have to find that Daniel Caro committed those acts.

“Not that somebody did it. We all know somebody did it.”

With a sweep of my arm, I pointed at the defense table. “But, ladies and gentlemen, there is not a shred of direct evidence showing that Dr. Daniel Caro did it.”

My voice was matter-of-fact when I said, “There’s no witness to it. There’s no physical evidence tying him to the scene or to the murder. No forensic evidence. And no confession or admission by my client.

“The DA said in his argument that he loves circumstantial evidence! He’s crazy about it; it’s his favorite kind of evidence.” I leaned in like I was sharing a confidence. “You think maybe he’s saying that to you because circumstantial evidence is all he’s got?”

I stepped to the side and focused on the far seats in the jury box. “And, ladies and gentlemen, if circumstantial evidence can lead you to make more than one reasonable conclusion, then you must listen to that voice in your head when it frames a doubt.

“Because the State carries a heavy burden of proof in criminal cases. Don’t let the DA try to diminish or minimize it. He must prove the State’s case beyond a reasonable doubt. Let’s talk about that.”

I took a moment to make sure that all the jurors were tuned in, especially those who remained unconvinced.

“In Mississippi, our jury instructions don’t define reasonable doubt because our courts believe the words speak for themselves. Y’all know what reasonable means. Is it reasonable to think that my client, whose life has been devoted to preserving women’s health and safety, would strangle and rape a woman, shoot her in cold blood, then dump her in a lake? And then arrive home at eight thirty in the evening, jacket and tie on, looking as fresh as he had when he’d left the house that morning? Ladies and gentlemen, that’s not reasonable.

“Is it reasonable that your neighbors in Biloxi and Gulfport would come to court and swear that Daniel Caro is a law-abiding, peaceable, nonviolent man if he was really a cold-blooded killer? Is it reasonable that he could fool them all? Is it reasonable to think that his wife, under penalty of perjury, would tell you anything about that night that wasn’t true?”

It was time to up my energy a notch. I focused again on the woman who was my primary skeptic in the jury box.

“You know the defendant is presumed innocent until found guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. That’s the law. And you know that he has the right to remain silent. The defendant doesn’t have to testify, doesn’t have to put on evidence, doesn’t have to say anything. The jury is instructed on credibility by the judge. And the instructions say that only you get to determine the credibility of the witnesses. Credibility is up to you, because you are the ones who see the defendant on the witness stand with your own eyes, hear his testimony with your own ears.”

I moved to a more receptive juror.

“You saw and heard my client, Dr. Caro. You heard the witnesses testify to his unimpeachable character. You heard our expert scientist explain that his DNA could have been in Ms. Gates’s cervix for as long as two weeks. You heard his wife tell you exactly where he was at eight thirty p.m. on June thirteenth and just what kind of shape he was in.

“The witnesses are credible. You should believe them! And here’s a crucial point. The evidence from the defense witnesses does not conflict with the forensic evidence presented by the prosecution, because the forensic evidence doesn’t tie my client to the crime. By the way, you can disregard the Uber driver. She backed away from her testimony right before your eyes when she said she’d identified the defendant because the DA told her to.”

I expected an indignant denial from the prosecution table. All I got was silence.

“I know that the DA wants someone to pay for this crime. Aurora Gates is dead; her life and her unborn child’s life were extinguished. Her family grieves for her. And they want someone to pay, they want someone to suffer.

“But that’s not the purpose of this trial. Finding a scapegoat is not the goal of our criminal justice system.”

The words were coming to me. I slipped the unneeded note card into my pocket.

“The DA knows he has no direct evidence, but somebody has to pay. Daniel Caro is a seducer, adulterer, heartbreaker. So, according to the DA, Daniel Caro must pay.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that is not the law. Remember that burden of proof? Reasonable doubt doesn’t mean ‘maybe.’”

I paused and thoughtfully gazed off to the side. “‘Maybe it could be him.’ ‘It’s possible, I guess, that it could be him.’ ‘I suppose, if it’s somebody, it might have been him.’” My eyes returned to the jurors. “Is that enough to return a guilty verdict? No! That is not enough to convict, not in this country.

“Do a gut check, please. Is there a doubt? In this case, yes. If you’re being honest, you have a doubt. A reasonable doubt.”

Without getting loud, I jacked up my intensity. “Knowing that there is clearly reasonable doubt, if you convict my client of murder, will you be able to sleep in the weeks and months to come? Imagine lying in your bed late at night when all is quiet and there are no distractions. If you have wrongfully condemned my client with a guilty verdict, ladies and gentlemen, how will you sleep at night?”

At that, the middle-aged woman met my eye. She was with me; I could feel it. I walked back to where I could view her without obstruction.

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