Page 42 of The 1 Lawyer

Keeping his eyes trained on the jury box, Gordon-James didn’t acknowledge the ruling. With a weary shake of his head, he said, “There’s been so much talk in here. Talk in the courtroom, arguments by attorneys, talk, talk, talk. None of that will be remembered. What I say, what opposing counsel says, even what the judge says—all of it will be forgotten.”

I edged forward in my seat, waiting for the opportunity to cut him off. I knew that argument. The DA was borrowing it from the famous closing in the Mississippi Burning case.

“The talk will be forgotten. But what you do, what this jury does today, will long be remembered. It will be remembered by Aurora Gates’s family as long as they live. It will be remembered by her friends and by the community at large. You have a job to do.”

He clenched his hand into a fist and pounded the surface of the lectern. “You must find Daniel Caro guilty so that you can avenge Aurora’s brutal death.”

That was my cue. “Objection!”

He ignored me, raising his voice to a shout and banging the lectern with increased force. “Her murder and the murder of her blameless unborn child must be avenged—”

At that point, I had to yell to be heard over him. “Your Honor, the prosecution is trying to inflame the passions of the jurors!”

“Avenge her unborn child, who was murdered in the womb by its own father!”

Judge Walker picked up the gavel and beat it on the wooden block. “Mr. Gordon-James, you are out of order.”

Finally, the DA stopped speaking. As Judge Walker instructed the jury to disregard his statements, Gordon-James raised his eyes to the ceiling. The lights reflected off the sheen of perspiration covering his face. His breath was coming fast; I could see his chest rise and fall.

He turned his head, coughed into his fist, and cleared his throat before he resumed. “What you do will be remembered. You have sworn to do justice in this case. Justice, ladies and gentlemen—that’s your job. Sometimes, justice isn’t about mercy. This is one of those times. Daniel Caro does not deserve your mercy. In fact, I wish you could show him the same treatment he gave Aurora Gates when he strangled and raped—”

“Objection!”

“Sustained.”

The prosecutor paused again, breathing hard. Sweat trickled from his hairline and ran down his cheek. As he struggled for composure, I glanced at the jurors. At least half of them appeared distinctly uncomfortable, averting their gaze from the DA. One guy in the second row looked over at our counsel table and caught my eye. The woman next to him scooted her seat back, away from the DA. I resolved to zoom in on those jurors first when my turn came.

Gordon-James’s voice was hoarse. “You mustn’t forget what this case is all about.” With a shaking hand, the DA held up his PowerPoint clicker. The new image that appeared on-screen was the autopsy photo of the victim, her body bloated and her face eaten away.

“What if she were your daughter?” His voice broke. “What if she were your niece?”

Another improper argument. It was like he’d forgotten all the rules. Gordon-James was way too close to the case, too personally involved. I stood up to make another objection but hesitated when Gordon-James turned away, presenting his back to the jury. His face contorted with grief, and he began to sob. It looked like he couldn’t go on.

So that was it. My old man always said a case could be won with the right closing argument, and sometimes that was true.

As the DA walked away from the jury, I thought, Maybe a case can be lost in closing too.

CHAPTER 31

WHEN JUDGE WALKER called me up for my turn, I bypassed the lectern. Unlike the DA, I didn’t need to stand behind it or pound it with my fist. Not my style.

I walked straight up to the jury. I held a single note card on which I’d jotted eight or nine key phrases. I was going to talk to the jurors. Not preach, not orate. Just talk.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I want to thank you for the time and attention you’ve devoted to this trial. It’s no secret that serving as a juror isn’t easy. It’s hard work, isn’t it? Maybe that’s why people want to kick their dog when they see that notice for jury duty in the mailbox.”

That got a smile out of a couple of them. My guy in the second row nodded in agreement.

“Jury duty is a real imposition, a sacrifice. But it’s also the most important job in our judicial system. You, the people in this box, are the ones who keep the scales of justice in balance.”

I paused for just a second to adjust the knot of my necktie. It wasn’t the lucky tie from Carrie Ann that I usually wore for opening and closing. That morning, I’d opted for a newer tie, one with a regimental stripe in red and blue. I hoped it would give off a patriotic vibe when I urged the jury to return a verdict of not guilty.

“Ladies and gentlemen, while I listened to the DA’s closing remarks, it occurred to me that maybe he’s forgotten what this trial is about.”

I paused, waiting for Gordon-James to stand and object. I had my comeback ready. But the DA remained in his chair.

I moved down the jury box and fixed my eyes on the gray-haired woman I’d originally pegged as a defense ally. “It’s not your job to find Daniel Caro guilty of having an extramarital affair.”

She held my gaze, blinking once. I moved on to the woman sitting on her right, who regarded me with a frank expression of dislike.

---