The Puppet Master

by Ronald S. Barak

  “Excuse me, Mr. Morris. My name is Maria Sanchez. You seem to be doing a pretty nice job. Can’t you just continue as our foreperson?”

  Two other jurors expressed the same view before Morris could respond. “I appreciate the kind remarks. It’s not that I have anything against being foreperson, but I really just wanted to help us get off to a good start. I felt I could do that without appearing to overreach. So long as I wasn’t interested in being the foreperson. I think it best that we choose from one of our four candidates. But I do thank you again for thinking of me.”

  No one else had anything to say. Morris circulated the ballots. “Pass them back after you vote. I’ll do a quick count and announce the results.”

  Morris looked at the returned ballots. Only nine jurors had bothered to vote. Morris wondered if this reflected shyness or disinterest. He noted that Jackson and Reynolds received only one vote apiece. Presumably their own. Morris speculated that no one voted for them for the same reasons he had not: their brief remarks seemed a little too aggressive. Kessler received five votes and Remington two. Given the economy, perhaps people were reluctant to empower an investment banker. Kessler just seemed to be the safest choice.

  “Okay, we have our foreperson, Steve Kessler. Congratulations, Steve. It’s all yours.” Morris tore up the secret ballots.

  “Speech, speech,” cracked one of the jurors. Other than to smile and say this was his first election to anything, Kessler didn’t bite.

  * * *

  THE MANTLE PASSES SMOOTHLY FROM Morris to Kessler. “First, thanks to Clyde for efficiently bringing us to this point. I’ll try to keep the ball rolling.” Advancing the concept of edict by silence, at least in baby steps: “Let’s plan to work until six thirty. Then we’ll order dinner in and continue until nine as agreed.

  “How about an informal survey to see where we stand right now? If we’re unanimous on innocent or guilty at the get-go, we could be done before we even get started. If not, we should at least gain some sense of where to begin our discussions.”

  A juror yet to speak raised his hand and was acknowledged by Kessler. “My name is Kenzo Miyagi. First of all, we may informally use the term ‘innocent.’ But I think the correct term is actually ‘not guilty.’ As I understand the jury instructions, that we don’t find Norman guilty, doesn’t mean he’s … innocent. It just means he’s … not guilty.

  “Also, I agree that it makes good sense to take an initial vote. However, I’m a little uncertain about what we’ll be voting on. If I followed Judge Brooks correctly, there is first the question of not guilty or guilty. If Norman is guilty, then there is a second question of whether we believe he is entitled to the defense of justifiable homicide. I’m also confused that there doesn’t seem to be a separate defense based on insanity. So, what exactly is it that we are going to be voting on?”

  “Good point, Kenzo,” Kessler responded. “Here’s what I believe Judge Brooks instructed us this afternoon. If we’re unanimous on not guilty, we’re done. If we have any guilty votes, then we are to consider the possibility of a defense of justifiable homicide. A justifiable homicide defense vote legally amounts to a vote of not guilty. And we are not to consider the question of not guilty by reason of insanity in our present deliberations. I’m not sure I understand why.”

  “My name is Sajid Rajesh. I believe Steve correctly described the instructions we received.”

  Kessler reasserted his authority. “I think we can vote not guilty or guilty by a show of hands because unless we’re unanimous, we’re going to have to openly discuss our views.”

  Six voted not guilty and six voted guilty. “Okay, again by a show of hands, let’s poll the six guilty votes to see if any believe Norman is entitled to a defense of justifiable homicide.”

  No hands went up.

  It occurred to Kessler that people might be a bit saturated and/or in need of the facilities. “Let’s take a ten-minute break. We’ll then go around the room and get a preliminary explanation from everyone as to why they’ve voted the way they did.”

  After the break, Kessler resumed. “Okay, in the order of our jury numbers, let’s ask everyone to indicate the reasoning behind his or her current thinking. Please state your name and how you just voted and tell us briefly why you voted as you did. Let’s not have any debates yet. Let’s just find out where everyone is. Juror number one, would you please start us off?”

  “Sure, I’m juror number one. Hartford Greene. For now, I voted guilty. It’s just my gut. I need to hear what others have to say.”

  “My name’s Lynette Brown. Number two. I voted guilty because it seems to me that Norman admitted what he did. Several times. I don’t believe in shrinks. I watched Norman’s eyes very carefully throughout the trial. I think Norman knows exactly what’s going on now. And I think he knew exactly what he was doing at the time in question. I also don’t believe justifiable homicide should be available as a defense in this kind of case. In contrast to where a burglar breaks into your house and threatens to harm your family.”

  “I’m juror number three. Steve Kessler. I voted not guilty. My preliminary take is that Norman might have killed Wells but the prosecution didn’t meet its burden of proof.”

  “My name is Maria Sanchez. Number four. I voted not guilty. Right now, this is a very close call for me. I think Norman was a ginormous victim. This doesn’t mean he had a right to kill someone. I’m just not convinced at this point beyond a reasonable doubt. It’s possible that I will change to justifiable homicide.”

  “I’m George Remington. Juror number five. I voted guilty because someone did this. And Norman seems like the only candidate. Right now, I don’t think what he did was justified.”

  “I’m Professor Jackson. I voted not guilty. There’s just no goddamn way Norman should be found guilty. He’s the victim here. Our government’s the guilty party. Even if I thought Norman did it, I would vote not guilty based on the defense of justifiable homicide.”

  The room went quiet. “Professor Jackson,” Rajesh cut in. “I would really appreciate if you would watch your language. There’s no reason to take our Lord’s name in vain in this setting. That makes me uncomfortable. Thank you.”

  Jackson glared at Rajesh and appeared ready to strike back. Kessler firmly cut her off before she could begin. “C’mon, folks. Let’s keep things friendly. And low-key. We all need to be mindful that we come from different backgrounds. We should act accordingly. And respectfully.” Kessler knew that Jackson was going to be trouble before their work was over. “Juror number seven, do you have anything to tell us?”

  “Kenzo Miyagi. Juror number seven. Thank you very much. Right now, I’m voting guilty. Someone murdered Senator Wells. I don’t see any other candidates. I think Norman did it. But I might change my mind after we talk more about reasonable doubt. Thank you.”

  “Yes, I’m juror number eight. Dr. Alston Smythe. I voted guilty because I think Norman did it. But I need to hear more about justification.”

  “I’m Humberto Gonzalo. Number nine. I voted not guilty. For now, I don’t see the evidence as establishing guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.”

  “I’m Angie Wright … but I could be wrong. Sorry. Bad joke. It’s been a long day and I’m very tired. I’m juror number ten. I’m trying to stay awake. I voted not guilty because I’m not sure what Norman did or didn’t do.”

  “Hamilton Reynolds. Number eleven. I voted guilty. Someone did this. I don’t see anyone else. But that doesn’t mean Norman did it. For the moment, I feel like he did. I could change my mind. I also need to think some more about the principle of justifiable homicide.”

  “Hello everyone, I’m Sajid Rajesh. Juror number twelve. I voted not guilty. I don’t think the prosecution proved its case beyond a reasonable doubt.”

  “I’m Kareem Davis. And I think we have a problem. If I understand things correctly, I don’t think there is a next. Along with Clyde, I’m one of the two alternate jurors. I did vote, to myself, but as I unders
tand the jury instructions, I’m just supposed to sit here quietly. Not participate in these discussions unless someone becomes ill. And then I have to step in. Have I missed something?”

  Kessler was embarrassed. “Wow, Kareem is absolutely right. Sorry, folks, I blew this big time. I hope this falls under the heading of no harm, no foul. Including Clyde’s well-intended earlier actions in getting us started. Clyde did a lot more than just silently sit by. But he didn’t vote or do anything to influence anyone else’s vote. Even in the initial survey we’ve just completed. I think we just thank our lucky stars and move on.”

  Morris was less sure. “In the spirit of full disclosure, I did vote on the secret vote to select our jury foreperson. However, I can say my vote made no difference in the outcome.”

  Professor Jackson spoke up. “Let’s not make a mountain out of a molehill here. We should just forget about this and move on.”

  Kessler agreed. Both as a matter of pragmatics and wanting to save his possible differences with Jackson for more important issues likely to arise later. He’d already had to step on her toes about her language. “I think the professor is correct. We’re very fortunate no real contamination occurred. From this point on, let’s please all keep in mind that Kareem and Clyde are just silent observers. Here to step in if one or two of us takes ill. Again, my profound apologies for not being more careful about this.”

  Maria Sanchez remarked, “I know we agreed to work through dinner and continue until about nine o’clock. It’s almost dinnertime. I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I heard Angie say she was tired too. I’m guessing lots of us are tired by now. We almost made a bad mistake with our alternates. I think we should stop for the day, bring in dinner, just visit, and get to know each other a little better. And then adjourn until tomorrow morning when we can get a fresh beginning.”

  Kessler quickly agreed. “I think that’s a great suggestion, Maria. Unless someone has strong feelings otherwise, I think we’ve made a good start and should call it a day in terms of any further deliberations. Let’s pass around the menu, order dinner, talk about unrelated things while we eat, and adjourn for the night. We’ll resume in the morning at eight thirty. Anyone disagree?”

  No one said a word. Proclamation by silence had again prevailed.

  CHAPTER 121

  Friday, August 7, 9:00 a.m.–Saturday, August 8, 3:45 a.m.

  AFTER BEING RELEASED FROM his trial subpoena, Hollister promptly left the courtroom and drove home. Unaware that someone was again following him. He pushed the speed dial on his cell for Mortimer’s private line.

  Mortimer picked up on the first ring. “Blaine, why’d you rush off like that? We need to talk.”

  “What is there to talk about? Thomas is a phony. Trying to shake me down. Get me to buy him off before he was due to testify. He had nothing. Zip. Squat. I called his bluff. He backed down. Skipped out on his subpoena. Sorry for running off on you like that. The whole courtroom scene was closing in on me. Had to get outta there.”

  Hollister had no more respect for Mortimer than he did for Thomas. He wasn’t about to confide in Mortimer. “I think we’ve got this one buttoned up. Send me your bill. I’ll take care of it. Like I always have.”

  * * *

  IT WAS PAST 2:30 in the morning. Still no sign of Hollister. I was sure he’d make another run at Thomas tonight. More prepared this time. Guess I was wrong. Probably had a nice meal and is getting a good night’s sleep. While I’m sitting here starving. Cold. Fighting to keep my eyes open. Least I’m getting some practice in using the video/audio camera on my cell phone. Just in case things yet go as I had hoped.

  * * *

  HOLLISTER BACKED HIS CAR out and headed down the street. Impulsively, he peered into his rearview mirror, seeing exactly what he would have expected to see at three thirty in the morning. Nothing. Reassured, he increased his speed and drove off. If he had looked more carefully, he would have spotted the car a bit farther back. Still managing to keep him in sight.

  * * *

  THE OLD INSTINCTS WERE STILL working after all. Where else would Hollister be going at this hour? Wait a minute. Who the hell’s that behind me? We got us a damn caravan. Two guesses who that might be.

  CHAPTER 122

  Saturday, August 8, 3:45–4:00 a.m.

  HOLLISTER WAS OBLIVIOUS TO the convoy trailing him. He drove straight to Thomas’s apartment. He parked a few blocks away and one street over.

  * * *

  THE MAN FOCUSED HIS ATTENTION primarily on Hollister, although he chose to park out in front of Thomas’s apartment building, a few doors away. Through his rearview mirror, he also intermittently glanced at the hoodie-shrouded mystery driver parked a half-block behind him. Having to film Hollister through the windshield, scrunched down to avoid being seen, isn’t ideal. No way to turn and video the anonymous person behind me. Who the hell could it be? A reporter?

  The cell phone camera passed muster. The man recorded the street side of Thomas’s apartment building showing the address numerals on the building face and Hollister as he approached and entered the building entrance on foot. Hollister had donned a cheap Halloween mask and was holding a gun with an attached suppressor at his side. He zoomed in to catch a close-up of the gun.

  * * *

  THE MAN FILMED HOLLISTER entering the elevator. He sprinted up the adjacent stairwell to the third floor. He opened the stairwell door in time to film Hollister exit the closing elevator and move off down the hallway toward Thomas’s front door. Moments later, camera still running from his strategic vantage point in the stairwell vestibule, the man saw the hoodie-camouflaged stranger cautiously depart the elevator and creep quietly after Hollister. The man captured it all on his camera.

  Suddenly, Hollister turned and spotted the new arrival. He raised his gun and started firing. The hooded interloper fired back. Too late. Still filming, the man tried to duck back into the stairwell. Aaagh! Hit.

  Both shooters were down. Each hit several times. Blood splattered all over both of them. It didn’t look like either of them would be getting up again. Ever.

  Cell phone flew out of my hand. Hope it’s okay. Blood gushing out of my shoulder. Dizzy. Everything spinning. Getting dark. Legs giving out. On the floor. Some guy in silly-looking pajamas staring down at me. “Police! Officer down. Call 911!” Dreaming? Hope J will know what to do with the cell phone. Think to check the camera. Fortunately arranged for Elena to stay with Charlie and Madison for a couple of days last night. Hope they’ll somehow be okay without me. Forgive me for being such a damn jerk, Beth. So stupid. Having to play it my way. Be the smart guy. The know-it-all. He felt things slowing down. Then … nothing.

  CHAPTER 123

  Saturday, August 8, 8:30 a.m.–2:30 p.m.

  KESSLER WAS FEELING RESTED. And ready to get cracking. “Good morning, everyone. Don’t know how you’re all feeling, but I sure feel a lot fresher than last night. I also enjoyed getting to know each of you.

  “I’ve arranged for water, coffee, tea, and some pastries and fruit. We might as well take advantage of being stuck in this hotel.”

  Kessler then proposed a working schedule like the one used during the trial. Fifteen-minute morning and afternoon breaks and adjournment around four. “We could push harder, but I think we should take little breaks to remain alert. Dinner will be in the conference room for those who wish. Or alone in your rooms for those who prefer.

  “I also read through the jury instructions last night and again this morning. I want to highlight a few that seem to be worth repeating. And discussing if there are any questions.

  “Unless you feel Norman is guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, that means you feel he is not guilty. That just means not … guilty. Not that you feel he is innocent.

  “A vote of guilty combined with a justifiable homicide defense vote is the same as a not guilty vote. Sajid was correct. We are supposed to vote guilty or not guilty unanimously. If we are not unanimous, we are a hung jury. That means there is no r
esult, and the prosecution must either retry the case or dismiss the charges.

  “If some of us directly vote not guilty and the rest of us vote guilty but justified, that is a unanimous vote of not guilty.

  “I know these rules are tricky. If anyone disagrees with anything I just said or has any questions, we should talk it through now until we revise and agree on these points. If everyone’s okay with what I’ve just outlined, then we can move on to our substantive deliberations. Anyone have any comments or questions?”

  Maria Sanchez raised her hand. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Maria? It’s not necessary to raise your hand and be called on. Everyone’s free to say whatever.”

  “I think Mr. Kessler’s remarks are very helpful. I like the proposed schedule and believe it would be good to discuss not guilty or guilty in the way Mr. Kessler summarized the jury instructions the judge gave us yesterday.”

  There were several nods of agreement. No one made any attempt to share a different view or perspective.

  “Okay, then, who would like to begin the discussion?

  “Yes, Humberto?”

  “When we took our first vote yesterday, I voted not guilty because of reasonable doubt.

  “Here’s my problem. If one takes the idea of reasonable doubt too literally, or strictly, then it would be almost impossible to convict anyone of anything. Such a literal approach would make a joke of our judicial system.

  “So, there must be some kind of a practical limitation on the meaning of those words. I know there was a jury instruction that defined reasonable doubt. But I didn’t find that definition any more helpful than just saying ‘reasonable doubt.’” Several jurors nodded in sympathy with Humberto’s observation.

  He continued. “So, I just interpreted that instruction to mean we should use common sense.” There were more affirmative nods. “Using a common-sense definition of reasonable doubt, I now feel Mr. Norman is guilty beyond a reasonable doubt of murdering Senator Wells.