The Innocent Woman

3

Judge Dalrymple could feel a headache coming on. He looked down at A.D.A. Pearson and frowned. He had understood this matter was going to be settled. Yet here before him stood the prosecutor. And at the defense table sat the defendant, with not one but two attorneys, her regular court appointed lawyer and a long haired young man in corduroy jacket and jeans.

Judge Dalrymple rubbed his brow. “People vs. Amy Dearborn,” he said. “Mr. Pearson. Do I understand you are ready to proceed?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Is the defense ready?”

Amy Dearborn’s lawyer, a clean cut, earnest-looking young man stood up. “Your Honor, I am as you know the attorney appointed by the court to represent Miss Dearborn. At this time I ask to be relieved of that responsibility.”

“On what grounds?”

“Miss Dearborn no longer wishes my services. She has discharged me and retained another attorney.”

“And who would that be?”

“Mr. Steve Winslow, present here in court.”

“I see,” Judge Dalrymple said. “Miss Dearborn?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Have you heard what your attorney said?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Is what he said substantially true?”

“Yes it is, Your Honor.”

“You no longer wish him to function as your attorney?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“You wish to be represented by Mr. Steve Winslow?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Very well,”,Judge Dalrymple said. “You are excused.”

The attorney nodded his thanks, gathered up his briefcase, and left.

Judge Dalrymple smiled. Maybe this wasn’t so bad/after all. “Mr. Winslow,” he said. “May I ask when the defendant first approached you in this matter?”

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“I see. I would assume you would need time to prepare. Under the circumstances I would be inclined to grant any reasonable continuance you might ask.”

“I don’t want a continuance, Your Honor.”

Judge Dalrymple frowned. “You don’t?”

“The defendant has been accused of a crime. There is no foundation for the charge whatsoever, and I see no reason for her to walk around with a cloud over her head. I want her vindicated now. The defense position is, call the jury and let’s go.”

The dull ache behind Judge Dalrymple’s temple was becoming more pronounced. He turned to the prosecutor. “Mr. Pearson?”

The A.D.A. frowned. “Your Honor, I had anticipated the defense would want a continuance.”

“Well, they don’t,” Judge Dalrymple said shortly. “So let’s get on with it. Bailiff, bring in the jurors and let’s go.”

There was a brief delay while fifty prospective jurors were brought up from the assembly room downstairs, ushered in, and seated on the benches in the back of the courtroom.

At the defense table. Amy Dearborn turned to look. She whispered to Steve Winslow, “So many. Why so many?”

“We need sixteen jurors,” Steve told her. “Twelve regular jurors and four alternates. They expect the prosecutor and me to fight over them, throw most of them out, trying to get people favorable to our side. It’s a long process.” He jerked his thumb. “They don’t even expect to fill the jury from what they’ve got back there.”

Amy frowned. “You mean it could take days?”

“Absolutely.”

“That’s awful.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let it.”

When the jurors had been seated the bailiff shuffled up their ballots, and drew sixteen at random, filling the jury box. As the jurors took their places, the bailiff attached their ballots to a rectangular board which was numbered according to the seats in the box. When he was finished, A.D.A. Pearson took the board, approached the jury box. Referring to the board, Pearson addressed each juror by name, asking them personal questions about their education, their jobs, their marital status, their hobbies, their likes, their dislikes, and finally their opinions about crime in general and theft in particular.

It was a grueling examination and took most of the morning.

When Pearson had finished, Judge Dalrymple looked at the clock. “Mr. Winslow,” he said. “It is only a half hour before lunch. Would you care to break now and resume at two o’clock? If you begin now, I’m afraid I’ll have to interrupt your examination.”

“No problem, Your Honor,” Steve said. “I wouldn’t want to hold anyone up. I’m sure a half hour will be quite sufficient. Let’s get on with it.”

Judge Dalrymple frowned. Rubbed his head.

A.D.A. Pearson, quite surprised, handed Steve the board with the ballots.

“Thanks,” Steve said. “But I won’t be needing that.” He turned, walked to the juror box and smiled at juror number four. “Mr. Finley,” he said. “How are you?”

Finley, a middle aged man with bifocals who had given his occupation as librarian, smiled back. “Fine, thank you.”

“Mr. Finley,” Steve said. “I don’t want to impose on you with a lot of questions. I have only one real concern. And that is that this defendant gets a fair trial. And I’m sure you feel the same way.”

“Absolutely,” Finley said.

“Fine,” Steve said. “So the way I see it, the only real question is whether you’re prejudiced in this matter.”

Finley frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“Prejudiced,” Steve said. “The prefix pre- and the word judge. To judge before. Have you judged this case before you heard it?”

“Certainly not,” Finley said.

Steve held up his hand. “Don’t be too sure. I want you to keep an open mind. Be totally honest here. As you sit here now, have you formed any opinion about the guilt or innocence of this defendant?”

“No, I have not,” Finley said.

“You have no presumption whatsoever about her guilt or innocence? She might be innocent or she might be guilty, you simply don’t know?”

“That’s right.”

“Thank you, Mr. Finley,” Steve said. He spread his arms. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Is there any one of you who would answer these questions any differently than Mr. Finley? If so, please raise your hand.”

No hands went up.

“None at all?” Steve said. “Is that right? None of you at the present time have any opinion as to the guilt or innocence of this particular defendant? If you do, please tell me now.”

Steve paused. Waited. “Fine,” he said. “Thank you very much.” He turned back to the bench. “Your Honor,” he said, “the entire jury is unacceptable. I ask that they be dismissed for cause.”

Judge Dalrymple blinked.

A dull murmur broke out in the courtroom, first surprised, then angry. As it grew in volume, Judge Dalrymple banged the gavel. He noted the pain had shifted behind his eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” he said.

“I ask that the jury be dismissed for cause.”

“On what grounds?”

“They have no opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the defendant. Whereas by law the defendant is presumed innocent until proven guilty. Not one of these jurors is willing to grant her that presumption of innocence. They have no opinion whatsoever. Even before they’ve heard a shred of evidence, they think she’s equally likely to be guilty. They’re clearly unacceptable.”

A.D.A. Pearson was on his feet. “Oh, Your Honor,” he said. “I’ve seen stunts like this in law school, but this is the first time I’ve seen one in open court. That’s absurd.”

“That may be,” Judge Dalrymple said. “But it happens to be the law.”

“But, Your Honor,” Pearson said in exasperation. “The jurors don’t believe that. They were tricked into saying it.”

“I beg your pardon, Your Honor,” Steve Winslow said. “But I must object to the prosecutor stating what these jurors do or do not think.”

“Exactly,” Judge Dalrymple said. “Mr. Pearson, you should know better.”

Pearson held up his hand. “I apologize, Your Honor. I retract that. Of course the jurors think for themselves. All I’m saying is counsel has manipulated them into the present position. They were given the information in a manner calculated to confuse. It was intentional. And then to say they’re unacceptable as a result of that-it’s absurd.”

Steve Winslow raised his eyebrows. “Are you saying these jurors are acceptable?”

“Of course they are.”

“Each and every one?”

“Each and every one.”

“Well,” Steve said. “That’s certainly emphatic. In view of that, I think I should reconsider. Your Honor, I withdraw my objection to the jury. Instead, I have a few more questions.”

Steve Winslow turned back to the jury box, where sixteen faces regarded him with suspicion.

Steve smiled. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you have every right to be angry. You were indeed tricked. What I told you about having no opinion as to guilt or innocence sounded good, but it wasn’t. I did that to make a point.”

Steve turned, pointed to Pearson. “During the course of the trial, the prosecutor is going to tell you that my client took money from her employer. And you know what? He’s going to make it sound good. He’s going to make it sound great. You’re going to listen to him and think, that must be true.”

Steve smiled. “But wait a minute. You’re on to us now. You know better. Just because a lawyer says something, doesn’t make it right. Even if it sounds good. It’s a lawyer’s job to make it sound good. That’s what we do.”

Steve pointed. “So, don’t listen to him.” He shrugged, smiled. “And don’t listen to me.” He shook his head. “What we have to say isn’t important.”

Steve held up one finger, then pointed to the witness stand. “But listen to them. Listen to the witnesses. The testimony of the witnesses is all that matters here. The rest of this stuff doesn’t matter.”

Steve stopped, smiled. “Now, I apologize for all this. But one thing is absolutely true.” Steve pointed. “The defendant is innocent until proven guilty. That’s the most important concept of law. It’s one I’m sure you all know. It’s one I’m sure you would have no problem with if I hadn’t confused you.

“Which is why I must ask you-is there anyone of you who is so angry with me that you could not be impartial in this case, that you would let it affect your feelings toward this defendant? If so, please raise your hand.”

No hands went up.

“Good,” Steve said. “And is there anyone now who doesn’t understand the concept of innocent until proven guilty? Is there anyone now who is not able to presume this defendant innocent at the present time? Again, please raise your hand.”

No hands went up.

Steve smiled. “Thank you very much.” He turned back to the bench. “Your Honor, I find I was mistaken. This jury is entirely acceptable. I have no objection whatsoever.”

Judge Dalrymple frowned. “You have no challenges for cause?”

“No, Your Honor. And no preemptory challenges either. The entire jury is acceptable. Let’s swear them in and start the case.”

A.D.A. Pearson rose to his feet. “Your Honor, Your Honor,” he said. “I haven’t passed for cause.”

“Oh?” Steve Winslow. “Just a moment ago you said the entire jury was acceptable, each and every one.”

“I was speaking generally.”

“Generally?” Steve said. “Each and every one isn’t generally. But I beg your pardon.” Steve stepped back and indicated the jury. “If you have challenges, please say so. These jurors have assured me they can all be fair. Would you please tell us which of them you feel aren’t capable of doing so?”

A.D.A. Pearson opened his mouth, then closed it again. He recognized a no win situation when he saw one. A minute ago Steve Winslow was the bad guy who’d tricked the jury. And now those same jurors were looking at him with mistrust. It was hard to take.

Pearson took a breath. “I didn’t say I had objections to anyone on this jury,” he said. “I merely said I hadn’t passed for cause. And I objected to your doing it for me. I said the jury was entirely satisfactory, and it is entirely satisfactory. I have no challenges either.”

He turned to the bench. “Pass for cause, Your Honor. And I have no preemptories either. The jury may be sworn.”

Judge Dalrymple nodded and grimaced. It just wasn’t his day. He swore the jury in, rubbed his aching head and broke for lunch.