The Justice Game

83

Ed Poole was off the stand by 10:30. He left the courtroom with his tail between his legs. He would fly back to Atlanta and probably face perjury charges or at least an irate divorce-court judge.

Though Kelly had gone after him hard, she actually felt a little sorry for the man. With everything going on in her personal life, Kelly found no pleasure in watching somebody else’s past catch up with him.

Jason stood and announced that the defense rested. Kelly told the judge that she had no rebuttal witnesses. Everybody could sense that the jury was anxious to begin their deliberations.

Judge Garrison announced that his jury instructions and closing arguments would begin after a fifteen-minute break. The tension in the courtroom increased exponentially.

Fifteen minutes later, after Judge Garrison read the jury instructions, Kelly walked to the front of the jury box and surveyed the panel. She caught the steely-eyed gaze of Marcia Franks, Juror 7, and the attentive look of Rodney Peterson, Juror 3. All of the jurors had benign looks of encouragement, as far as Kelly could tell. She sensed that the case was hers to lose.

“We’re not here to raise Rachel Crawford from the dead. I wish somehow we could, but her warm and cheerful light has been extinguished forever-at least this side of heaven.

“We are here to correct a grave injustice. As my client so eloquently reminded us, quoting the words of Dr. King: ‘An injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.’

“Mr. Noble doesn’t want to talk about justice. He wants us to focus on the left brain. Remember what he said during opening statements? Use logic, not emotions. So let’s humor Mr. Noble for a minute. Let’s talk left brain.

“What could be more left brain than statistics?” Kelly hit a button on her remote, and numbers flashed up on the screen. “One percent of gun stores sell 57 percent of the weapons ultimately traced to crimes. I know, Chief Poole testified that most guns used in crimes came from street sales. But if you trace them back far enough, how did they get on the streets in the first place? Through a few renegade gun dealers who specialize in illegal sales.

“According to MD Firearms’s own study, four renegade dealers accounted for approximately 50 percent of the MD Firearms guns linked to crimes. One of those dealers was Peninsula Arms. That gun store accounted for 251 guns linked to murders or aggravated woundings in Washington, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and New York during 2006 alone.”

She took a few steps, and the screen flashed one more time, displaying another number: $2,763,960.00. “This is the reason why MD Firearms keeps selling guns to dealers like Peninsula Arms. Two million, seven hundred sixty-three thousand, nine hundred sixty dollars. That’s the amount of revenue that MD Firearms made from Peninsula Arms in the last three years.”

She turned to squarely face the jury again. “You want left brain? Let’s talk legal definitions. A few minutes ago, Judge Garrison read a set of jury instructions to you. He told you that negligence is a careless act or omission by the defendant.

“An act or omission.

“In other words, it’s no defense for MD Firearms to do nothing if a reasonable manufacturer would have acted.

“Oh, they’re good at pointing fingers.” Kelly turned and stared at her three adversaries-Jason Noble, Case McAllister, and Melissa Davids, who had obviously decided to be present for closing arguments-all sitting in that ridiculous position off to the side of the defense counsel table. She walked over to the table. “Mr. Noble is great at putting everybody else on trial.” She pointed to the empty chairs. “Larry Jamison. Peninsula Arms. Jarrod Beeson. He even added a seat for the ATF.”

She turned back to the jury. “Larry Jamison already got his verdict-at the hands of the SWAT team. Beeson’s in jail. Peninsula Arms is bankrupt. The ATF has qualified immunity. But for these individuals representing MD Firearms, this is their judgment day.”

Her voice grew tighter, angrier, more intense. “And it’s no defense for them to sit back smugly and say, ‘We did nothing. We hid behind the Second Amendment. We knew people were dying, we knew this dealer was supplying the black market, but we also knew we made nearly three million dollars from them the past three years, so we did nothing. ’”

Kelly stopped. Took a breath. Lowered her voice. She thought about her dad leading Communion, about the words of the liturgy that applied to her own life. We have sinned against You by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.

“MD Firearms didn’t pull the trigger. They didn’t make the illegal sale. Those were the wrong things that were done. But MD Firearms is guilty by what they have left undone. They knew about this renegade dealer but didn’t act. They knew people were losing their lives because Peninsula Arms was supplying the black market, and they turned their heads. They came into court and brought out the proverbial bowl of water and washed their hands of the matter, blaming everyone else.”

The jury was anxious to start their work; Kelly could see that. And most jurors had probably made up their minds already. She needed to keep this short. But she also needed to end with a little emotion.

“And so if you do what Mr. Noble suggests and use only your left brain, I respectfully submit that you will find in favor of the plaintiff. But I must say, ladies and gentlemen, that there’s a reason the left brain and right brain are connected. Because, you see, justice is not just a matter of the head; it’s a matter of the heart.”

Kelly stepped in front of the jury and turned to a dry erase board. She pulled the top off a red marker and wrote the name of Larry Jamison. “Follow the trail of blood,” she said, drawing an arrow. “From Jamison to Jarrod Beeson.” She wrote names and drew arrows as she spoke. “From Beeson to Peninsula Arms. And from Peninsula Arms to MD Firearms.

“No amount of fancy lawyering can remove the blood from their hands.”

She put down the marker, the red ink staining her fingers.

“Follow the trail of blood, ladies and gentlemen. It will take you straight to the door of Melissa Davids and MD Firearms.”