Harvest Of Evil
Page 18
Or, just as bad, magic can just silently make something disappear, like oh, half of the generator that is spinning at about a thousand revolutions per minute. I saw the aftermath of that one; the other half tried to tear itself apart because it was out of balance. It succeeded in tearing not just itself apart, but a major section of the experimental power plant. Someone thought that using magic to create frictionless bearings would make a submarine quieter. They ended up decommissioning that boat; there wasn't enough of the engine room left to save. I just thank Loki that it was pier side, not several hundred feet underwater.
And then there are the idiots that try to use demonic energy, so called 'blood magic'. It's a short cut to more power for less cost by the magician. If you think it's a good idea, you also probably think borrowing money from Guido the Slugger is a good idea.
All of this philosophic reflection took me past the scene of the accident, and just about to my exit. I started moving towards the slow lane, and then got off at Columbia. I made my way through the rest of the zoo that is downtown, to the Federal buildings, and parked in the lot reserved for Government vehicles. I hate city traffic, no strike that, I hate cities. There's a reason I went into the Park Police and not the Marshals or some other Fed agency.
It was 07:00 so I scooted up to the court room in question and found Jim. "Hey, Jim," I called out as I rounded the corner from the steps and saw him outside the courtroom. "Where is our meeting room?"
Jim turned around and looked at me with relief in his eyes. He was about five-foot, seven, one hundred and ninety pounds, and very Hispanic looking. He had dressed in his usual blue suit and power tie. "Damn, John, called it a little close there."
"Hey, I left at six, give me a break."
"Yeah, I heard about the wreck on Five. Bad?" He gave me the appropriate sympathetic look. There's an unwritten rule that you must sympathize with anyone who was caught in one of the usual traffic foul-ups in this city. After all next time it could be you.
"They had a mage to do fire suppression," I said, and Jim winced.
"Yeah, I heard that on the radio. There goes about twenty thousand bucks of our tax dollars, that could better be spent on you and me." He looked at me as he walked into a conference room, and continued, "You ready for this guy?"
"Sure, I did my home work, reviewed the reports, reviewed the case law, and the statutes. I don't think he has a snowball's chance of beating this, it should be a slam-dunk." One of the more messed up things about law enforcement is that, without being a lawyer, we have to keep current not just on statute law, but on case law as well. Statute law is relatively easy; it takes an Act of Congress to change it, literally. This is 'the law of the land' and controls what is and isn't a crime. Case law on the other hand is a far more slippery thing. Case law is whatever the courts decide it is, and some of their decisions lead one to think that the judges get to pick through the evidence locker, and keep 'the good stuff'. An example of what I'm talking about is when the State Supreme Court recently decided that it wasn't enough to ask for permission from a home owner before doing a search, and it wasn't enough to read a Miranda type card informing the owner that they have the right to refuse the search, limit the search, and stop the search at any time. No, just the fact that there is an armed officer at the door is too intimidating and might "cause the homeowner to believe that they have no choice, and therefore the search is 'under duress'." Or at least so say the state Supremes. So, now we have to have an affidavit signed by the homeowner stating all of the afore mentioned rights, and informing the owner that they can call for legal advice before allowing a search to proceed. Then we must get the homeowner to sign the damned thing before we can go in the house.
Give me a break!
Jim and I talked small talk for the next few minutes. Then he told me what he intended to ask me regarding the events of the case, what he wanted me to be sure to mention, and what he wanted me to stay away from if I could. Now if this sounds like coaching, it is. It's also legal, at least before one steps on the stand. It's also standard practice for both attorneys to do this with their witnesses. Shortly it was time to go into court.
*****
Jim went in first, and went up to the prosecutor's bench; I came behind him and sat in the front row waiting to be called. Mr. Green and his attorney were already in place. The boy that I had last seen in the tent with Green was sitting over on my left, with what must have been his parents. The judge came in, and the bailiff did the standard 'all rise' blah, blah, blah. The judge called the court to order, read the docket, and declared the trial open. Jim made his opening statement, saying that the state would prove that Jerald Green, a resident of Blah, Blah, And employed by the City of Puyallup as a school teacher at Blah, Blah, did on the afternoon of Blah, Blah, Blah. The short version was that the state would prove that Green did have sex with a minor, while fully aware that said minor was under fourteen years of age. Further more, that Green was in a significant relationship with said minor. Thus proving that Green was guilty of rape of a child in the second degree, and sexual misconduct with a minor in the first degree, both of these having an aggravating circumstance.
Then it was the defense attorney's turn, and his statement boiled down to "I'm going to prove that the very charging of my client was a grave miscarriage of justice, and that all of this is a travesty." OK I thought, he's going for a technicality defense. Well, I can't be surprised, with the victim willing to testify, and his client caught in the act, that's really the only shot he's got.
*****
Shortly we got down to the meat of the matter. Jim called his first witness, one Chad Robinson. The kid I had first seen face down in the tent came up and was sworn in. Chad was a skinny boy, red haired, green eyed, about five foot, two inches, and maybe weighing one hundred ten pounds wringing wet. He walked up to the stand looking around nervously, and was sworn in.
Jim asked him about a dozen questions.
How old was he? - Fourteen.
How old was he on the afternoon in question? - Thirteen years ten months. Did he go to Puyallup Jr. High? - Yes.
What Grade was he in on the afternoon in question? - Eighth grade.
Did he have a teacher named Green? - Yes.
Did he see Mister Green in the room? - Yes.
Could he point Mister Green out to the Judge? - The boy pointed at the defendant.
On the afternoon in question where was he? - At Lake Wenatchee State campground.
Who was he with? - Mister Green.
What where they doing? - Camping. There were a few titters at that, the judge gave a glare and everyone settled down.
Why were they camping together? - Mister Green said it was an extra credit field trip. More titters, and the defendant started to say something, but his lawyer put his hand firmly on his shoulder.
What where they doing when Officer Fisher, the officer in court today, (he pointed at me) walked up on them? - Fucking.
At this point the courtroom erupted. The parents were shouting, most of the audience was shouting, and we had a large courtroom full of people. The defense attorney was screaming objection at the top of his lungs, the judge was shouting 'order' at the top of his lungs.
*****
Eventually the judge got everyone settled down and quiet, primarily by threats to clear the courtroom. Then he asked the defense attorney what his objection was. The defense stated that he did not believe that the "alleged victim" knew what the definition of the word he used was. He went on to claim that the prosecutor was leading the witness. There was a lot more snickering (quickly silenced by a glare from the bench), and the judge growled "overruled".
Jim said "Oh, that's OK Your Honor, I'll rephrase, Chad, when you say you were fucking, what did you mean by that?"
Chad looked like he couldn't believe the question was being asked, and said "What do you usually mean by fucking? Jerry was putting his cock in my ass. It was something he always enjoyed, and I didn't mind too much, so it was OK."
I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, and whirled. Here came the Dad, with a full head of steam and blood in his eye. I had no doubt that if I let him go by, 'Jerry' was about to be so much bloody hamburger. And while I wouldn't mind that in my private persona, the public 'Officer Fisher' couldn't let that happen. I reached out and grabbed Dad as he went by. I could smell the anger and adrenaline coming off him, and it took everything short of going furry to stop him. All the while he's screaming "I'll kill the fuckin' fag, I swear to God, I'll kill the bastard for perverting my boy!" I ended up restraining him and cuffing him with the help of the bailiff, but it was a near thing. I could smell the fear in the air; the defense side of the house was under no doubt that they were less than five feet from a quick and painful death.
As we got Dad restrained and calmed down and started hauling him out of the courtroom, I whispered in his ear, "I swear Green will get his, and the case will be so well known that the whole 'Joint' will know who and what he is. Let someone that's already doing life kill him, don't ruin any chance you have to get your son back." The judge declared a fifteen-minute recess, to allow everyone to get his or her composure.
Fifteen minutes later we were back at it, Dad had been taken to the ER to insure that I hadn't hurt him. Mom had been given about a thousand tissues, and used them all. (I swear, there was a regular mound of used tissues under her feet). The judge called both of the attorneys up to the bench, and I cocked my ears to hear what was said. Basically 'hizonner' called them both on the carpet for allowing that to happen. Things like "you should have known better that to even bring up such a question, Christ, this is the MTV generation, nine-year-olds know what the damn word means". And to Jim, "As for you, I am not sure you planned that, but if I ever get the slightest hint that you set it up for the boy to get that graphic, I will have your ass for it, Do. You. Get. Me. Councilor?" Then we got back to the trial. Jim asked a few more questions just to further establish that this had been going on for a while and was not just a 'one shot deal' to coin a phrase. Then he turned the witness over to the defense attorney.
The defense attorney walked up the witness box and said "Hi Chad, My name is Kelso Kersey but you can call me Kelly. Now Chad, tell me about the camp site you were in, did it have a stove?"
"Objection, Immaterial."
"Oh, no, Your Honor, this is quite to the heart of the matter." 'Kelly' smiled winningly at the judge.
The judge looked at 'Kelly' and said "All right councilor, but you better be going somewhere. Son, answer the question."
"Yeah, we had a big tent, three rooms. The center had the stove and a sink in it."
"OK, that's great Chad, now did you guys bring a porta potty along too?" 'Kelly' was leaning over Chad with his best 'fatherly figure' face on.'
Oh shit, I think I see where this is going. Chad smirked and said, "Yeah, Jerry hates to have to truck to the outhouse in the middle of the night, so we always bring one of those chemical bucket toilet things."
"And of course, you had a bed."
Chad looked at him like he was retarded. "Yeees."
'Kelly' started to turn and pace. "OK, just one more thing then, Chad, where was Officer Fisher when you first became aware of him?"
"He was on the road at the entrance to our camp site."
'Kelly' whorled around and looked at Chad.
"How far away would you say?"
"Objection, calls for speculation." Jim was right on top of this, which is good because I could see where 'Kelly' was going, and I didn't like it one bit.
"Sustained, Son don't answer," the judge snapped, glaring at 'Kelly'.
'Kelly' turned to the judge and said, "Your Honor, I have a picture I would like to bring forward at this time." He motioned to the back of the room, and a secretary type brought up a four foot by five-foot picture of the campsite that this happened in. It had a tent set up in it, and a little man in green with a hat that looked an awful lot like mine was stuck to the picture. "Now Chad, can you place the man where Officer Fisher was when you first became aware of him?"
"Well, I think so." Chad walked over to the picture and put the paper 'me' about where I really was when they opened the tent flaps.
"Now Chad, is that about where Officer Fisher was?" 'Kelly' said in a smarmy voice.
"Yeah, pretty close." Chad sounded fairly certain.
"Your Honor, the defense would like to enter this picture as defense exhibit one, and let the record show that Chad placed the officer" he pulled out a scale rule and measured "fifteen feet from the tent, and right at the line dividing the camp site from the road. No further questions."
Chad was allowed to sit down, and Jim called his second witness, the school principal, one George Proud. George was a six foot, four inch, black man, who might have weighed two hundred pounds. He wore a gray suit and light blue shirt. He was sworn in, and asked by Jim whether or not Mr. Green had known the age of his students, and whether or not Mr. Green had been on an authorized, school sponsored field trip. Principal Proud answered that yes, Mr. Green had known the ages of his students, and that no, no field trips had been authorized. That furthermore, no matter what the results of this trial, Mr. Green was no longer employed by the school district because of the taking of a student on an unauthorized field trip. (Personally I thought that was an amusing way around the non-discrimination laws. We're not firing you because you have sex with little boys; we don't even care whether or not that happened. We're firing you for taking children on a field trip without school authorization. Yeah. Right.)
The prosecution indicated that they had no further questions, so 'Kelly' came up. The only question he asked was whether or not Mr. Green had a clean record up until this incident. The answer was yes.
Then, Jim called me to the stand. I was sworn in, and the questions began.
"Officer Fisher, on the day in question, what was your purpose in walking the Lake Wenatchee State campground?" Jim asked. Now, this was an open-ended question, and he had asked it on purpose, to allow me to lay background for my presence at the scene. Jim obviously thought the defense was trying to claim fourth amendment violations. Well, so did I.
"On the day in question, I was patrolling the various camp grounds in my area of responsibility. This is something that we do regularly; it's like walking a beat for a street cop. Any time that I am not responding to a call, or have something more pressing, I try to cover each of the campsites in my patrol area. I generally look for M. I. Ps, that's minor in possession, evidence of poaching, fireworks violations, firearm violations, theft, or domestic violence. In the parks, we see all of the same sorts of crime that a County Officer would see. In addition the State had a state-wide burn ban on, with a high fire risk, and I was checking for compliance with the burn ban."
Jim asked, "Do you often have problems with the burn ban?"
"Yes, if you would subpoena the dispatch records for the dry season, you will see that unauthorized fires are the most often reported reason for contact during the dry season."
"Your Honor, the state would like to subpoena," started Jim, and that was as far as he got.
"Objection, not in discovery."
"Your Honor, the defense subpoenaed the dispatch records for the day in question. The state would be happy to use those, which were in discovery. If the defense will stipulate that this was a normal day for Officer Fisher, and if Officer Fisher would agree to the stipulation." Jim slyly commented. Jim and I had discussed this before hand. It had been a roughly normal day, up to the point that I found Green. I had called out with individuals nine times; six of these were for burn ban violations. I had written two tickets, and let four people go with warnings. Green was one that I had written a citation on. There was a reason for this; I needed to prove a reason to contact. If you arrest someone for a crime discovered during a contact, you need to show a reason that you made original contact, and the easiest way is to site them for the original item. So yes, I was willing to agree to the stipulation.
"Officer Fisher, will you agree that this was a normal day's contacts for you?" asked Jim.
"Yes, except that I normally write a few more citations for burning. If I find a fire burning at a campsite, I go up and talk with the campers. If they have an extinguishing agent at hand, and are aware of the precautions for fire in dry country and are following them, I usually let them off with a warning, especially if it's a cooking fire. If I don't think they have a good enough understanding of how risky fire is during dry season and they don't have an extinguisher at their side, I make them put the fire out, and I cite them. I find the citation helps to explain the gravity of the offense." Now normally I wouldn't be volunteering information on the stand, just answering the question asked. In this case though, I really wanted to establish my reason for contact, and that I wasn't singling out any one camp. I was sure that 'Kelly' would try to make this a 'gay basher' thing, and show that I didn't have a good reason to make contact. I couldn't let that happen or the bust might not stand up.