Directed Verdict (Failed Justice Book 1)

by Rick Santini

  “And who might that be?”

  The entire courtroom became silent. A few of the jurors were leaning forward. Juror Seven, Neil O’Brien, sat silently wondering what would come next. He was fascinated. Bob Johnson, the foreman of the first trial, was straining to hear the response. He was sure he knew who that person was. He was positive.

  There was one heavy set gentleman who appeared to have no neck, who had been sitting quietly in the back of the room illegally recording the entire trial with a button hole spy cam and mike. He turned up the volume control of the directional mike carefully hidden in his newly purchased tie.

  “Alexey Cummings. Also known as Alexey Demetrius Kummovitch. The father of Victoria Cummings, who had been raped by the deceased. There is no question in my mind he wanted revenge. Total revenge. Revenge against the man who raped his one and only daughter, and against me, the fool who set the rapist free.”

  The courtroom exploded.

  “Order. Order. Quiet. I am calling for a fifteen minute recess. Everyone will be back in their seats, in complete silence, or I will empty the courtroom of all spectators. Is that clear?”

  With that, Judge Sugarman banged the gavel so hard it hurt his right wrist, and rapidly retreated to the sanctuary of his chambers.

  Why me? I didn’t ask for this God damn circus.

  CHAPTER 44

  Alexey was not surprised. He was livid, but certainly not surprised.

  The defense needed to point the finger somewhere else. Anywhere else. He was the only logical choice. Fortunately no one saw Viktor call the judge on the throwaway phone, no one saw him enter the rear door with a concealed crow bar, no one saw him whack the judge on the side of the head, and no one saw Viktor shoot that rapist in the gut with an untraceable weapon, call 911 about a domestic fight, and no one saw him slide out the back door less than two minutes later. The plan worked exactly like it was rehearsed.

  The judge was right. I got my revenge. That little prick is now dead and I’m about to have that bleeding heart judge sent to jail. For how long he lives depends on how generous I feel.

  Alexey threw away the phone he had just received the call on. He poured himself a double vodka from his private reserve and smiled.

  ***

  “One last question, Judge Kolkolski.”

  “Mr. Gibson, the defendant is no longer a judge. At least, not a sitting judge. I would ask you refer to him as Mr. Kolkolski,” Sugarman interrupted from the bench.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Judge Sugarman. I certainly hope you have not prejudged this case. I was always under the impression that due to both respect and tradition, once a judge is conferred the title, it stays with him for life. Am I mistaken, Your Honor? I was also under the impression one is presumed innocent until proven guilty. If I am wrong on both counts, I sincerely apologize.”

  Bob Sugarman was now seething. He had let his emotions get away from him. Now he was trapped. He could not admit Billy Jo was correct and he did not want to back track and lose even more face.

  “Watch your mouth, Counselor. Continue with your examination Mr. Gibson. We can discuss your interpretation and unsolicited comments in chambers—later.”

  Sugarman was trying desperately to deflect the comment made by defense counsel. No one was buying it. A few of the jurors were giggling under their breath.

  It did not go unnoticed. By anyone.

  “One last question, Mr. Kolkolski. Did you shoot and kill Anthony Ricardo?”

  It was the one question that must always be asked.

  “No, of course not. I may have been upset the deceased had been sleeping with my wife, but I have been divorced for more than thirteen years. We are all adults. I went to see Mr. Ricardo for one reason only. To find out how he met Bernice. I would never kill another person. Period.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Kolkolski. You may exam, Ms. Clarke.”

  “I will need a few minutes to prepare for cross, Your Honor.”

  ***

  “Your Honor, it is seldom I agree with opposing counsel, but in this case, and with permission of the court, I feel more comfortable addressing the witness as Judge Kolkolski. As Mr. Gibson rightly pointed out, the defendant, as of right now, has not been found guilty of anything and he has certainly earned the respect for his years of service to this very court.”

  All the jurors were looking at each other. What was the prosecution doing? Undermining her own case? Or maybe just keeping the playing field level as a common courtesy.

  Sugarman was beside himself with rage. He had been attacked by both sides and there was not a damn thing he could do. At least not right then and there.

  Don’t you think I will forget this, you smart ass black bitch. The court has a long memory and no one; I mean no one gets away with embarrassing me in front of everyone.

  “You may proceed, Ms. Clarke.”

  “Good afternoon, Judge Kolkolski. I have a few questions for clarification.”

  For the next two and a half hours Marta looked for inconsistencies in the witness’s testimony. There were none. She tried to ask the same question at least three different times. Each time Billy Jo was on his feet before the question was out of her mouth.

  “Objection. Already asked and answered.”

  Sugarman, as much as it killed him, sustained the objection.

  By 4:35 Marta had run out of questions. She had tried but produced little results. The fact the defense was pointing the finger at Alexey Cummings still hung in the air. Alexey was not on trial and the defense could point as much as they wanted. It was not evidence and there was nothing Marta could do.

  “Thank you for your cooperation, Judge. I am finished with my cross. You are excused.”

  Wally smiled at Ms. Clarke and threw a look at Judge Sugarman that was hard to miss.

  Sugarman stared at both counsel. Everyone assumed he would adjourn for the day. It was now 4:50. Normally the jury was excused by then. This was still his courtroom and he would run it any damn way he chose. If counsel didn’t like it, too damn bad.

  “Call your next witness, Mr. Gibson.”

  “Your honor, its ten to five. I did not expect any more testimony would be given today.”

  “I said call your next witness. Do you not understand me?”

  The courtroom became tense again.

  Juror Six, La’Tasha Williams did not like the way the judge was treating everyone. He was being pompous and grossly unfair. Besides, she had a date and needed to get home and dressed. She raised her hand. When the judge did not acknowledge her, she stood up and glared at the judge.

  “Yes, Juror Six. Is there a problem?”

  “Yes, Judge. I made a doctor’s appointment weeks ago. It is with a specialist. I told him I am out of court by five every day, at the latest. He agreed to see me as 6:00 p.m. sharp. I cannot afford to be late. I have to leave in the next few minutes.”

  La’Tasha did not move a muscle. She too was now challenging the court. Sugarman stared back at her. She did not blink. She took off her glasses and put them in her purse. She picked up a sweater that was resting on the back of her chair and slipped it on. She was about to walk out, whether the judge liked it or not.

  Screw him; I’m not getting paid overtime. Doesn’t that honky know I got a life outside of these four walls?

  For any juror not to be present during any part of testimony would be grounds for a mistrial, the last thing he needed.

  Sugarman slammed down the gavel for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

  “We’re adjourned.”

  Bob Sugarman was in no mood to talk to anyone.

  Another black bitch. I am surrounded by them.

  CHAPTER 45

  Billy Jo and Wally wasted no time in a huddle. It was necessary to make a final decision.

  There was no question the State had not proved their case. Billy Jo mentioned he would renew his motion for a dismissal on the grounds the State had failed to prove a prima facie case, the motion that Judge Sugar
man still had not ruled on.

  “He won’t grant it. He’s too afraid. He’s afraid of everything. Including himself.”

  Billy Jo looked at his client, who had just made the prediction. He had to agree.

  “You know, Judge, you can’t prove a negative. I’m not sure we can gain anything by putting on any more witnesses. Either the jury believes you, or they don’t.”

  “What are you telling me?” as if the judge didn’t already know.

  “I think we should rest and take our chances.”

  “You’re the boss and I have to agree with you,” responded Judge K.

  “See you in the morning. Try and relax and get some sleep.”

  “You too.”

  ***

  Judge Sugarman glared at Juror Six.

  “I hope everything went well yesterday.”

  “Thank you, Judge. And my uterus thanks you.”

  La’Tasha was not lying, only it wasn’t her uterus that was thankful.

  The judge did not respond. He didn’t have too. Everyone else did.

  “Mr. Gibson, call your next witness.”

  Billy Jo approached the lectern and announced, “The defense rests.”

  Billy had a smile on his face. No one knew the previous year he had purchased a new toy, a 32 foot twin engine fishing boat. He used it as much as he could when he was not trying cases. The name of the boat—THE DEFENSE RESTS.

  “Your Honor. I have several motions to make and one to renew. The one made at the end of the State’s case where you stated you would reserve decision.”

  “Yes, I have given it due consideration. Denied. Next motion.”

  Billy was not surprised by the decision, only by the totally unprofessional attitude the judge used. He did not bother to explain why, though he had no legal obligation to do so. It was the offhand manner which he was now using. Billy knew all the other motions he would make would probably be denied, but at this point he was thinking of an appeal and needed to build the record. Maybe he could goad the judge to say something really stupid; something that could be grounds for an appeal.

  Billy now had a new mindset.

  ***

  Two and a half agonizing hours later all motions had been made and all were either denied or taken under advisement. That meant the judge did not have the balls to deny every single motion in open court. He would send a written memo refusing to confirm. It was the coward’s way out, and no doubt, Judge Robert Sugarman was the classic coward. He put his own pride, ego, and lack of self-confidence far above the sacred rights of the accused.

  He was not the first judge to act that way, and definitely would not be the last.

  The cowardly lion was now dressed in black robes, Billy Jo thought.

  “If there is nothing else, I suggest the two of you sum up beginning at nine thirty. You may submit recommendations as to my charge to the jury in the afternoon, and the jury can begin deliberating the following morning. Any questions?”

  In effect, what the judge was saying is that both of them have an hour and a half each for closing statements in a Murder One case. Neither side was particularly pleased but it was Sugarman’s show and he would run it any damn way he wanted.

  “No, Your Honor.”

  ***

  By tradition, the State sums up first. That gives the defense the last word. It also gives the defense the ability to rebut any allegations or false impressions the People may have suggested, whether on purpose or not.

  Marta knew her entire case was circumstantial. No one actually saw the smoking gun. No one saw Wally pull the trigger. As to motive, killing someone who slept with an ex-wife thirteen years after the divorce was hardly believable. Fortunately the tapes made by Alexey were never sent to Marta. The farther he could distance himself from the defendant, the better. The fact Wally was a rogue judge did not help Marta’s case. Quite the contrary. He was a man of compassion, not one to destroy.

  Her closing arguments were short, if not so sweet. She was finished in less than ninety-five minutes. As she thanked the jury for their patience and public duty, she knew in her heart she had not proven her case. Not beyond a reasonable doubt. Not beyond any doubt.

  Win some; lose some. It’s the nature of the game.

  ***

  “Mr. Gibson.”

  Billy Jo had made detailed notes of what every witness stated; on direct and on cross. He had cross checked his notes and made colored lines in the margin. When he quoted directly from sworn testimony, he used a yellow or pink highlighter.

  “Thank you, Judge.”

  The reference to Judge instead of Your Honor sailed over the head of all, except Marta and of course, Judge Sugarman. It was shading; a subtle but obvious means of communicating disrespect. The practice had originated in the Deep South with slaves more than a hundred fifty years ago. It was a way of being polite to their masters who owned them; yet letting everyone else know the deep disdain that was conveyed by a single word or gesture.

  Billy started with the fact there was an obvious intent on the part of Judge Kolkolski to “help” the deceased by giving him a second chance. He then went on to discuss the fact he had virtually no contact with his ex since the divorce. She was certainly free to date and “entertain in her own home” whomever she pleased, regardless of age.

  Several of the jurors appeared to be buying it. Juror One, Madeline Wallace, had made up her mind days ago. Sworn testimony was a mere waste of time. Roger Rabbitt and Susan Watts were too busy exchanging glances to listen very closely. La’Tasha was pissed off at the whole damn system. She felt no one gave a crap; it was all one big game.

  “As to any record of a cell phone call to Judge Kolkolski, there was no record on Mr. Ricardo’s cell or house phone. The number recorded on the Judge’s cell phone was blocked. Someone made the call and didn’t want it traced back to them. What does that tell you about an obvious set up?”

  Billy went back to his notes.

  “Let’s talk about proof. Actual hard evidence. There is none. It’s that simple and everyone who has listened to the testimony the past week and a half knows it. Someone tricked Judge Kolkolski into entering the victim’s home, and we can all assume who, and cold-cocked the Judge, killed Anthony out of revenge for the rape we all know he committed, called 911 with a phony story of domestic abuse, and walked out the back door. The same back door that was never dusted for prints or properly secured by the shaken and inexperienced, rookie cop.”

  “Beyond a reasonable doubt? It simply is not there. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as the judge will instruct you later today, if there is one percent of doubt, you must, you must find Judge Kolkolski not guilty. Thank you and God bless.”

  Billy Jo felt good as he sat down. He had done his job and done it as good as any man. Now he had to wait for the court’s charge to the jury. Billy, along with Ms. Clarke, had already submitted their requests.

  Wally began to breathe easier again.

  CHAPTER 46

  “Who do you believe?”

  The jurors were forbidden to discuss the case with one another, with anyone for that matter, outside the jury room, and only after the judge instructed them on what to do and how to do it.

  Susan and Roger had conveniently disregarded the rules.

  “Who cares? He must have done something or they wouldn’t have arrested him in the first place. Besides, he admitted he set a guilty man free. That right there makes him guilty of something, doesn’t it?”

  Madeline Wallace was talking to no one. That two-faced monster flirted with her during jury selection and since then, had not smiled at her once. She had purchased two new dresses and of course, the hair-do and coloring. She no longer trusted Mr. Billy Jo Gibson.

  ***

  Judge Sugarman had worked long and hard on his instructions to the jury. He too, had his own agenda.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. My role is very simple. I explain what the law is and how you are to apply it. If there is anything, anything at all you d
o not understand, a written message from you will be answered immediately. You have listened to Mr. Gibson and Ms. Clarke. They are the lawyers for the State and the accused. It is their job to submit theories; they are not the law itself. Their comments mean nothing. I am the law; I am the judge.”

  Judge Sugarman then totally ignored the requests made by counsel. He gave what is commonly referred to as the “Hang Man’s Charge.” Billy knew he could appeal. He also knew appeals take time and money, a commodity Wally had very little of.

  ***

  La’Tasha Williams had been selected as jury foreperson. Probably because no one else wanted it.

  They would begin deliberation at nine the next morning. She was sure a verdict would be rendered by noon. This was an open and shut case as far as she was concerned.

  “Let’s start off with a straw vote, just to see where we are. The charge we must consider is Murder One, Deliberate and predetermined murder of another human being. Everyone write down Guilty or Not Guilty on a piece of paper. Do not sign it, fold it twice, and lay it in the middle of the table here.”

  La’Tasha carefully unfolded the papers over and marked down the results on a small piece of paper.

  “Looks like we might be here for a while. Our vote must be unanimous.”

  ***

  Five minutes later accusations were flying around the room. The initial vote was seven to five—for acquittal. The seven could not imagine what the other five were thinking.

  “You weren’t even awake half the time. When you were, you were leering at whatever women had her legs uncrossed or had a shirt button missing.”

  Brian Andersen took offense to the insults.

  “Go screw yourself. You’re pissed because no one gave you a second look.”