Dog Tags

CHAPTER 45

JURY SELECTION IS THE PITS. I think the technical legal term for it is Pitsius Corpus, but “pits” sums it up nicely.

Eli and I spend seemingly endless hours questioning people, trying to figure out which ones are more likely to take our side in a future verdict.

This is difficult enough on its face, but the problem is vastly compounded by the fact that most of the people we talk to are bullshitting us. The direction of the bullshitting is generally determined by whether or not they want to sit on the jury in the first place. Depending on their point of view, they’ll say either what they think we want to hear, or the opposite.

Of course, we don’t know what we want to hear. We have our theories, and our general idea about the right juror for a particular case, but basically we’re just guessing. And we won’t know if we’ve guessed right until the verdict comes in.

The court has summoned a total of eighty-one citizens from whom we are to choose our panel of twelve, with four alternates. That will be more than enough, though there is an endless supply of people to call upon if it isn’t.

I have never finished jury selection with any idea how our side has done, and I would be just fine picking the jury by lottery, with no questioning at all.

Today’s questioning is no different from any others. I’m basically looking to get people with above-average intelligence, who might be more likely to grasp and accept more than the obvious evidence put before them. To this end, six of the first eight accepted by both sides are college graduates, so I guess I’m doing okay.

At least twenty of the prospective selections are eager to say that they have predispositions about the case, are related to a cop, or are strongly pro- or anti-military. They believe these are factors that will get them sent home, and they’re right.

The ninth juror selected is in his forties, sells medical supplies, is a college graduate, and clearly wants on this panel. He answers everything earnestly, and takes every chance to show how open-minded he is.

Of course, open-minded isn’t my first choice; biased in our favor would be my preference. But I have no reason to turn him down, other than a slightly uncomfortable feeling that he is too anxious to be chosen. Salesmen generally work on commission, and spending two weeks in a courtroom therefore cuts down on income. But if number nine isn’t concerned with that, then I guess I’m not, either.

We plow through until the end of the day; Judge Catchings obviously wants to get this over with. It’s almost five o’clock when we empanel the fourth alternate, and the lucky group is asked to be here first thing tomorrow morning.

All in all, I’m happy with the group.

Or not.

I’ll let you know when I know.