by Teri Ames
“And then there’s the issue of motive. The prosecution paints a picture of Keenan as a jealous boyfriend. But there’s one problem with the jealousy angle. He didn’t know about Shannon and Jake. He told you he didn’t know. And there’s no direct evidence he did. Sure, there’s evidence that Shannon was planning to tell Keenan. But there’s also evidence that she didn’t want to, that she’d been procrastinating, avoiding a confrontation. Without real proof of jealousy, there’s no motive for anything. Not a homicide. Not even an assault.
“We may never know how this tragedy came about. And yet, the prosecutor has asked you to believe his version beyond a reasonable doubt. Because that’s his burden: to prove what happened beyond a reasonable doubt. The prosecution did not meet its burden.
“There are too many unanswered questions. How come nobody saw Keenan and Shannon together after the party? Why weren’t there more witnesses to the alleged assault? Why would Keenan go looking for Shannon the next day if he knew she was already dead? He sent her texts. He called her. He called her a lot during the first day she was missing. Because he didn’t know she was missing. Because he didn’t kill her. Just like he didn’t assault her.
“He had no idea she was missing until Officer Shores told him on the phone. And, even then, he hoped there was an explanation. That Shannon was alive. But, when Officer Shores came to Keenan’s home on Christmas Eve and told him that he, Keenan, was the last person to speak to Shannon, Keenan realized it was hopeless. It struck him. A girl like Shannon would not go days without using her phone. The phone that was always with her. The phone that she used constantly. If she wasn’t using that phone, she was dead. And so, he stated the obvious. ‘She’s dead.’ It wasn’t an admission. It was merely stating the obvious. Officer Shores admitted he suspected the same thing himself.
“That’s frequently the problem with police investigations. If the police have a suspect, it’s not hard to make a case against that suspect. As Dr. Lapitas explained, all they have to do is ask the right questions, and they can create witnesses who remember events exactly the way the police want them remembered. It’s not hard.
“It’s actually quite easy to accuse innocent people of crimes. Fortunately, as jurors, you have the ability to prevent further injustice.
“What happened to Shannon Dawson, whatever that was, was a tragedy. But convicting Keenan Brody of a crime he did not commit would also be tragic. Unlike the police, you don’t need to find someone to blame.”
It was time to sit down, but Barry hesitated. He wanted to talk about the fight tape, but he couldn’t think of a good way to do it. It was probably better to not bring any more attention to it. Was there anything he had forgotten to tell them? His mind was a blank. He looked at them all one more time before turning.
As soon as Barry sat down, Fred was up, clearly ready for his rebuttal.
“There aren’t really any unanswered questions here. Just like there is no reasonable doubt. The medical examiner was clear. There may not be a medical test for drowning, but in her expert opinion, head trauma likely contributed to Shannon’s death. And that trauma was consistent with a blow to the head, just like countless others she’s seen.” Fred gestured with his fist, a mock punch. “A blow to the cheek, followed by a fall and a hit to the back of the head. You’ve seen the defendant punch.”
“There were no witnesses to Shannon’s death because the defendant was smart. He was careful not to be seen. Just like he was smart by dumping Shannon in the river, knowing that the direct forensic evidence linking him to the homicide would be lost.
“Just like he was smart enough to try to cover his trail with text messages and phone calls. Those were smart moves that might have led the police investigation away from the defendant if the rest of the evidence didn’t point in his direction.
“But we have three witnesses to the assault. Three witnesses who saw essentially the same thing. Their memories are slightly different. But that just proves they weren’t coached.
“Sure, there were lots of people at the party. But they were there to celebrate the end of the semester. They weren’t watching Keenan and Shannon argue. They weren’t watching him grab her and hit her. They weren’t watching him follow her away from the party. Fortunately, three people were paying attention. Three people saw the assault. They saw Keenan use enough force to hurt Shannon. They saw her leave. They saw him follow.
“The rest of the evidence may be circumstantial, but it is compelling. Fingerprints don’t lie. And innocent people don’t minimize their involvement to the police.
“Olivia and Jack Dawson won’t get to spend any more Christmases with their only daughter.” Fred looked at the Dawsons one last time. “But they will rest better after you bring her killer to justice.
“Thank you.”
Part III
Judgment
Chapter 63
Thursday, September 18, 2014
OLIVIA STOOD in the gallery with her husband and watched the jury file out of the courtroom. The instructions to the jury had seemed tedious, too picayune. She hoped the jury wouldn’t get so bogged down in technicalities that they lost sight of the big picture––that her daughter had been murdered.
After the judge had given them permission to sit, she reached over and put her hand on top of Jack’s. He flinched, but she left her hand there anyway. She needed him right now, just like she had needed him during those early months after Shannon was murdered. He hadn’t been there for her then. He was damn well going to be here for her now. The judge gave instructions to the attorneys and then everyone was told to stand again while the judge left. Jack pulled his hand out from under hers as he stood. The noise level in the courtroom started as a few lone voices, then became a din. Olivia watched as people trickled away. She wasn’t sure what to do next, so she stood there feeling awkward.
“Is he going to get away with it?” Olivia turned toward Jack.
He just shook his head. After a minute, he said, “Whatever they do, it won’t bring her back...I’m not sure it matters what they do.”
“How can you say that? Don’t you want justice for Shannon?”
Jack paused. “Of course,” he said.
Olivia gritted her teeth. She was saved from responding by Fred Dutton’s approach. He showed them into a mini conference room near the courtroom.
“How are you both holding up?” Dutton asked.
“This was even harder than I expected it to be,” Olivia said.
“I can only imagine,” Dutton said.
“Seeing her...,” Olivia said. “Hearing them try to blame this on Shannon, having them make it sound like that boy is the victim here.”
“It’s what they do,” Dutton said.
“They won’t believe it, will they? The jury?” Olivia said.
“I hope not.” The prosecutor shook his head. “I hope not.”
“What happens now?” Jack said.
“We wait. It’s four thirty now. Hopefully we’ll get a verdict in a few hours. You don’t have to stay here in the building. It could be a while, and I have your cell numbers. I’ll call you as soon as I hear from the court.”
Without discussing it, Olivia and Jack ended up in the bar of a grand old inn a block from the courthouse. It felt like alcohol was the only way to kill time and dull the pain of the past week. Jack raised an eyebrow when Olivia ordered a double martini, but he shrugged and said, “The same.”
THE BRODY family crowded into a conference room. Cassie didn’t blame everyone for wanting to hear what Barry had to say. They all needed a dose of his confidence.
“How long will they take?” Keenan said.
“There’s a lot of evidence for them to weigh, and lots of messages to read. I think it’ll be a while,” Barry said.
“What happens if they convict me?” Keenan said.
“You’ll almost certainly be taken into custody. If they convict you on the manslaughter charge, that is. If they convict on the assault only, it’s hard to s
ay whether the judge would make you await sentencing in jail. It would depend on his mood. Sentencing would be in a few weeks.”
“So these may be my last hours of freedom. Hard to enjoy them, knowing they may be the last.”
Barry just stood there.
This wasn’t the assurance Cassie craved. She wanted to cry, but for Keenan’s sake, she tried to think of something positive to say. “I feel like Mr. Densmore did a good job,” she said. “Surely, they have to see how the whole thing was stacked.”
Barry bowed his head. “It’s hard to know how a jury perceives things. Let’s just keep our fingers crossed. I’ll call you as soon as I hear something. They’ll keep this building open as long as the jury is deliberating, but my advice to you is to get out of here. Go somewhere else. Be with your family. I promise I’ll call as soon as I hear anything at all.”
DUSTIN AND the chief had come back to court to listen to the closing arguments. Dustin had flirted with an unattractive girl in the clerk’s office and was promised a call when the court adjourned just before closings. The girl had delivered on her promise, and when the call came, the chief had insisted on going with him. They had sat on the same side as the Dawsons, but in the back row.
They were among the first to leave the courtroom.
“What do you think they’ll do?” Dustin said in the cruiser on the way back to the barracks.
“I only saw part of your testimony and the closings. You probably have a better idea than I do.”
“Fair enough. What did you think of the closings?”
“I think Fred’s closing was stronger, but Barry scored some points.”
“I’ll be pissed if they acquit, won’t you?”
“I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be disappointed, but pissed? No.”
“Why not? Nobody deserves to get away with murder.”
“I agree, but do you feel like you did everything you could to make the case?”
“I suppose.”
“Do you wish you had done anything differently?”
“Like what?”
“Well, do you feel like you did everything you could to find a witness to the killing?”
“I knocked on every door in the neighborhood. I ran down every lead. I don’t know what else I could have done. I lived the investigation for months.”
“Then you did your job. You can’t create evidence that doesn’t exist.”
“Not according to that ex-professor, Lapitas. He tried to make it sound like I coerced the witnesses or something.”
“Did you?”
“Of course not. Why would I try to frame some kid I don’t know? That’s bullshit.”
“Maybe. But apparently judges and juries like him.”
“That’s just wrong. I’m beginning to think that the system is screwed up. It’s supposed to be all about the truth, but it’s not. It’s about who has the better lawyer and who can hire the better expert witnesses. The O.J. Simpson murder trial proved it. Kill someone? No problem. Just hire the best that money can buy.”
“I’m not ready to be that cynical.”
“I wasn’t. But Lapitas tried to make me into the bad guy. I’m no Mark Fuhrman. I’m one of the good guys.”
“Don’t take it personally.”
“Easier said than done.” Especially if Manny Rodriguez writes an article in the Adams Gazette that makes it sound like he tried to frame the Brody kid. That jury had better convict.
BARRY WENT back to his office. It was only a few blocks, but he had driven to the trial every day because of the heavy box filled with all the documents related to the case. He carried the box into his office and shoved it into the corner. He would need it for the appeal.
“You okay?” Marcy poked her head into his office. Barry sank into his chair.
“I don’t know. This is probably the hardest part of the trial. The waiting.”
“I have faith. You haven’t lost one in quite a few years.”
“Maybe I’m due.”
Marcy sat down across from him. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you this worried.”
“There’s just so much at stake for this kid. I shouldn’t have let the dad talk about his son’s character. I should have explained to him why he couldn’t do that. I paved the way for Fred to show this video of Keenan in a fight. It was a royal fuck-up on my part.”
Marcy shrugged. “Everyone makes mistakes. It’s probably not as bad as you think.”
“And, I should have stopped the kid from testifying. If we had rested before he testified, I’d be feeling better about this.”
“Did you try?”
“Of course.” Barry steepled his hands and exhaled loudly. “I don’t know. He had this driving need to testify. I advised him against it, but maybe I wasn’t persuasive because I needed someone to blame if I lost.”
“Is that what you really think?”
“I don’t know. It’s never productive to psychoanalyze yourself.”
“So, stop.”
“Okay. You want a scotch?” Barry got up and went his credenza. He held up two glasses.
“Don’t you have to go back to court?”
“Maybe. Or maybe not until tomorrow. But, even if it’s today, I won’t have much to do. If he’s guilty, I make a couple of standard motions, which the judge will inevitably deny. If he’s not guilty, I congratulate him. The thinking part of this is over. The alcohol makes the waiting part easier. So, are you going to make me drink and wait alone?”
“Okay, I’ll have one. But promise me you’ll remember to eat tonight.”
“Deal. Is there anything on this desk I absolutely need to deal with today?”
“Not in my judgment.”
“It’s probably better than mine.”
They sat and sipped in silence.
“I believe him, you know,” Barry said. “That he’s innocent.”
“I guessed that much. It’s easier when they’re guilty, isn’t it?”
“It sure is.”
FRED WALKED in the door of the State’s Attorney’s Office.
“You’re back. How’d it go?” Carol said, looking away from her computer screen.
“You never know until it’s over,” Fred said.
Carol nodded. “What time did they start deliberating?”
“It was almost four thirty.”
“Okay. I’ll call it four thirty.”
“It doesn’t matter, you know.”
“I know. It’s just interesting to keep track. Based on my statistics, with a four-day trial, it should take at least three hours to convict. If it’s less, it’s probably an acquittal.”
“I’m not sure I put much stock in your statistics.”
“How dare you? My statistics are an office tradition, started by my predecessor’s predecessor.”
“Santa Claus is a tradition too. Doesn’t make him real.”
“Ah. But my statistics are just as reliable as Santa is.”
Fred smiled. “I’ll be in my office if the court calls.”
Carol looked at her watch. “Okay. But I wouldn’t expect a call before seven thirty.”
Fred sat down and looked at the piles on his desk. There were phone messages from days ago. He had forgotten how much a trial can put you off your routine. He was trying to figure out whether it was worth it to try to dig out when Sanjiv, one of his three deputies, poked his head in the door. Fred filled him in on the trial and got updates on what he had missed over the past few days.
“Don’t worry. We managed just fine without you.”
“I wasn’t worried. I know how to hire good people.”
“Good luck with the verdict. I’m sure they’ll convict.” Sanjiv got up. Fred wished Sanjiv would stay and keep him company, but he couldn’t ask. There was too much work to do to spend time sitting around, and the problem with being the boss is that people feel like they have to do what you ask them. Besides, Sanjiv probably wanted to get home to his kids.
Fred looked at hi
s emails, deleting half of them, and prioritized the messages on his desk. Then, without even realizing what he was doing, he called Barry.
“Just want to make sure we’re still friends,” Fred said.
“I can forgive you if that’s what you mean.”
Fred laughed. “I thought we agreed years ago that work wasn’t personal.”
Barry sighed. “We did.”
“Why does this case feel different?”
“I don’t know. It’s not fair to hold it against you, but I don’t think what you did to this kid is fair.”
“All I did was my job.”
“I know you see it that way, just like the cops do.”
“This isn’t personal for any of us.”
“Of course it is. You wouldn’t be human if it was any other way.”
“Maybe you’re the one who’s taking this too personally.”
“You may be right. But I really do believe him.”
“And I really don’t.”
“It seemed like you were willing to keep an open mind in the beginning.”
“I always try to keep an open mind.”
“So, what convinced you?”
Fred paused and pondered the question. He hadn’t been convinced in the beginning. So, when did he change his mind? It might have been after he talked to the medical examiner. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I know I did the right thing. Can we agree that, whatever the verdict, we’ll go back to weekly golf. At least until the snow flies.”
“Of course. I just need a little time until this isn’t so raw. Give me a few weeks.”
“You’re afraid you’re going to lose, aren’t you?” Fred said.
“I’m always afraid I’m going to lose. Aren’t you?”
“I guess you’re right. It’s just been a while since I tried a case.”
“See you back in court.”
“Yup.”
THERE WAS no verdict by six o’clock when the bailiff took dinner orders. The jurors enjoyed Subway sandwiches courtesy of the state. Finally, at nine o’clock, the judge let the jurors go home with the usual warning not to discuss the case with anyone or read anything about it. They were told to be back the next morning at 9:00 a.m. to resume deliberations. The lawyers and the defendant, still in their court attire, stood silently in attendance for the instructions. All the spectators from earlier were notably absent.