“Respectfully submitted, Baraku Bexley, M.D., Ph.D.?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Dr. Bexley. I’ll get on this ASAP and I’ll see you Wednesday at your house. Ten copies enough?”
“For now. Thank you very much, Lester.”
“My pleasure, sir. See you Wednesday.”
“Okay.”
“Oh … one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Why’d she do it?”
“She loved animals.”
“Really? Then why the hell did she go to work as a euthanasia tech?”
“At this point, she’s the only one who can answer that. And right now her answer is, ‘I don’t know.’”
“Okay, Doc. See you Wednesday.”
“Okay, Lester. Wednesday.”
30
Defense Attorney Carolyn Payne
District Attorney Brawley Loren
Judge Gerard Becker
The Jury Pool
“Juror ID 861-227?”
“Here.”
“How are you?”
“Fine, thank you.”
“I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“All right.”
“How do you feel about animals?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you have a pet?”
“No.”
“Do you like animals?”
“Not particularly.”
“Thank you, you’re excused.”
“Juror 701-909?”
“Here.”
“Have you read any of the newspaper articles about my client and the crimes she has been charged with?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think you would be able to objectively listen to all the evidence and come to a fair verdict?”
“I think so.”
“Do you think she is guilty?”
“Well, didn’t she admit to killing all those people?”
“Yes, she did.”
“Well, then she’s guilty, right?”
“Would you consider the possibility that she might have been insane at the time of the murders?”
“Insane?”
“Yes.”
“Like, crazy … out of her mind?”
“Unable to understand the full consequences of her actions at the time of the murders.”
“No.”
“Thank you. You’re excused.”
“Juror 107-774?”
“Right here.”
“Good morning, ma’am.”
“Good morning.”
“Do you work, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
“And what is it you do?”
“I’m a hospice nurse.”
“I see. So you deal with terminally ill patients on a daily basis?”
“I don’t ‘deal with them,’ sir. I take care of them.”
“Of course. My apologies. Do you administer medications to your patients?”
“Yes.”
“Morphine?”
“Yes.”
“Dilaudid?”
“Yes.”
“Oxycontin?”
“Yes.”
“Your patients are in extraordinary pain, are they not?”
“No, we keep them very comfortable.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t clear. Let me rephrase my question. The illnesses your patients are suffering from cause a great deal of pain—is that correct?”
“If left unmedicated, yes. The pain levels of terminal patients would be considered excruciating. Some have used the word catastrophic to describe certain levels of end-stage pain.”
“Isn’t it true that the narcotic pain medications that I mentioned can suppress breathing?”
“Yes.”
“If you note that a terminal patient’s breathing is becoming shallower and that their respiration is becoming more difficult, do you reduce the levels of their pain medication accordingly?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because we do not allow patients to suffer.”
“But isn’t it possible that by maintaining the same high levels of narcotic pain medications, you could further slow their breathing and possibly even hasten their deaths?”
“I don’t want to answer that.”
“Your Honor?”
“Juror 107-774, could you tell the court why you do not want to answer that question?”
“I just don’t, Your Honor.”
“I’ll need more than that, dear.”
“The District Attorney is asking me if I perform euthanasia, Judge.”
“I see. May I read something to you?”
“Please.”
“When I was given this case, I did some preliminary research into euthanasia. I found something on the euthanasia.com Web site that might alleviate your concerns about answering the D.A.’s question. What euthanasia is not: There is no euthanasia unless the death is intentionally caused by what was done or not done. Thus, some medical actions that are often labeled ‘passive euthanasia’ are not a form of euthanasia, since the intention to take life is lacking. These acts include not commencing treatment that would not provide a benefit to the patient, withdrawing treatment that has been shown to be ineffective, too burdensome, or is unwanted, and the giving of high doses of painkillers that may endanger life when they have been shown to be necessary. All those are part of good medical practice, endorsed by law, when they are properly carried out. Does that change your thinking, ma’am?”
“Not really, Judge. I am aware of the doctrine espoused in the excerpt you cited, but it is still me up here answering a specific question, not engaging in some abstract discussion. So I still do not want to answer his question.”
“I see. Well, then, is there anything you can tell the court that might help us understand what you do when faced with the situation the D.A. has described?”
“Yes, Your Honor, I will say this. We administer to our patients the medications prescribed for them by their doctors. We do not … supersede the physicians’ orders regarding the dosages or the spacing of doses.”
“Very well. That’s good enough for me. Move on, Counselor.”
“Do you have a pet, ma’am?”
“Yes. A dog.”
“Would you put your dog to sleep if he was suffering from a painful, terminal illness?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all I have, Judge. She’ll do.”
“Thank you. Juror 107-774, please see the clerk for your juror information packet. Who’s next?”
“Juror 863-725?”
“Here.”
“Would you please remove your sunglasses.”
“Sorry.”
“How old are you, please?”
“Twenty-three.”
“And do you work?”
“Yes.”
“What is it you do?”
“I’m in college. And I work as a waitress.”
“Where?”
“The Olive Garden.”
“Do you have a big family?”
“Yes.”
“Are your grandparents still alive?”
“No, they all died.”
“I see. How old were you when your last grandparent passed away?”
“Twenty-two. It was just last year.”
“And who was it that died?”
“My grandmother.”
“Maternal?”
“What does that mean?”
“Was it your mother’s mother or your father’s mother?”
“My mother’s.”
“Could you tell me about how she died?”
“She had liver cancer but my mother was taking care of her at home, and then one day she started throwing up blood, and we called 911, and they rushed her to the hospital in an ambulance, but she died later that night.”
“You say, ‘We called 911.’ Were you present during all this?”
“Yes.”
“How so?”
“I was wi
th my mother at my grandmother’s house when she started puking—sorry—throwing up blood.”
“Were you the one who called 911?”
“Yes.”
“Did you go with your grandmother in the ambulance?”
“No, my mother went with her and I followed them in my mother’s car.”
“Were you with your grandmother when she died?”
“Yes.”
“Could you tell me about that, please?”
“What’s to tell? She was lying on a gurney, and they had an oxygen mask on her face, and the next thing I knew she started gasping and trying to sit up, and then she fell back. And that was it.”
“Did they try to resuscitate her?”
“No. She had a DNR—you know, an order against it.”
“I see. How did watching your grandmother die make you feel?”
“I really didn’t feel much of anything, to tell you the truth. Ever since she got really sick, she was mostly out of it. They had her on all kinds of pills, and anytime I went to see her she was either sleeping or raving about something.”
“She was delusional?”
“I don’t think so. I think she was just really high.”
“Do you have any thoughts about your grandmother’s final days?”
“What kind of thoughts?”
“The way she spent her final months … If you could choose how to spend your final days, would it bother you if what happened to your grandmother happened to you?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“How so?”
“She suffered, even with all the pills. I don’t want to go out like that. I want it to be quick. Bang. Like a heart attack or stroke. And if it’s my time, I don’t want to survive it. I don’t want to end up paralyzed or not able to talk, or be some vegetable in a coma.”
“If you were diagnosed with a painful, terminal disease, would you consider suicide?”
“Probably.”
“I have no more questions, Judge. She’s fine.”
“Juror 745-111.”
“Yes?”
“What do you do for a living?”
“I’m the mayor of Wesley, Connecticut.”
“A mayor couldn’t get out of jury duty?”
“I didn’t even try, Counselor.”
“We appreciate your diligence, Your Honor.”
“May I make a request, Counselor?”
“Of course.”
“Out of respect for His Honor, and acknowledging that this is, indeed, his courtroom, would you kindly address me as Madame Mayor?”
“Of course. My apologies to you and the court.”
“Proceed, Counselor.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Madame Mayor, do you support the death penalty?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, you are in agreement with seventy-one percent of the American population. If you ascended to the governorship of your state, what would it take for you to seriously consider commuting a death sentence?”
“I would not consider commuting a death sentence.”
“Ever?”
“No, sir.”
“May I ask why?”
“Because I wouldn’t have that power. Plus, I believe it vitiates our judicial system.”
“How so?”
“I’m sure I do not have to tell you, Counselor, of the many protections and checks and balances of American jurisprudence.”
“And?”
“By the time someone is sentenced to death in our court system, I believe that there has been adequate opportunity for the presentation of evidence that would exculpate him or her. Thus, I do not believe it is an executive’s place to debase such a process by a last-minute negation of the verdict and sentence.”
“But I’m sure you’ve heard of people wrongly executed? People who were innocent but were put to death before the evidence to save them could be presented?”
“Of course, but those cases are few and far between and, overall, the death penalty has been applied fairly in the overwhelming majority of cases.”
“There are many judicial scholars who would argue that point, ma’am, but let’s move on.”
“Nothing’s perfect, Counselor.”
“Fine. Do you support a woman’s right to choose?”
“Yes.”
“Do you support partial-birth abortions?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because at that late stage, a baby is viable. I only support abortion up until the fetus is viable. Once the baby can live outside the mother, even with advanced medical technology assisting, abortion is then murder.”
“Would you support legislation outlawing partial-birth abortions?”
“Yes.”
“What happens as technology improves, and babies born four or five months premature can survive and lead healthy lives?”
“Then I would use viability as the benchmark and prohibit abortion accordingly.”
“It is quite possible, then, that based on your doctrine, in the future, abortions would only be allowed in the first trimester.”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe abortion protesters who kill abortion doctors are justified?”
“No.”
“Are you married, Madame Mayor?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have children?”
“Yes.”
“Are your parents still alive?”
“No, they’re both dead.”
“That’s all for me, Your Honor. We’ll thank the mayor for her time, but we choose to pass on her services as a juror.”
“Very well. Move on.”
“Yes, Your Honor. Juror 400-806.”
“That’s me.”
“Good morning, sir.”
“Hello.”
“Have you been following the newspaper reports of the animal-shelter murders?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You say that with a certain ‘definiteness.’”
“Really? I do?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I have been following the stories in the papers.”
“Why have you been so interested in the case?”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“Have you regularly followed other local crime stories with the same enthusiasm?”
“No.”
“Then what is it about the case of Tory Troy that has captured your interest?”
“My brother.”
“Your brother? What about your brother?”
“The Sunday after Tory Troy was arrested, he gave a sermon about the murders. From then on, I’ve been reading all the stories in the newspapers about it.”
“Your brother is a priest?”
“Yes.”
“Have you and he discussed the case?”
“Yes.”
“Has your brother given you his opinion about what happened?”
“Yes.”
“Did your discussions with your brother influence your own opinion about the case?”
“Yes.”
“If you were on the jury, and Tory Troy was found guilty, would you be able to sentence her to death by lethal injection?”
“No.”
“If you could determine her sentence, what would it be?”
“Life in prison with no chance of parole.”
“What if everyone else on the jury was for the death penalty?”
“Then I guess we’d have a hung jury.”
“Thank you, sir, you’re excused.”
31
Judge Gerard Becker
Defense Attorney Carolyn Payne
District Attorney Brawley Loren
The Jury
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you. Being on a jury is an exciting civic experience, and a responsibility and privilege of being an American. This case is a very serious one. Six people are dead, and the defendant has been charged with their murders. Your job will be to listen carefully to all the evide
nce and come to a conclusion. Victoria Troy is being tried for all six murders at one time, in one trial. Six premeditated Murder One charges. Your verdict will be one of the following: guilty, or not guilty by reason of insanity. You will also be responsible for a sentencing recommendation. The statutes address the magnitude of the crimes and proscribe specific sentences for a guilty verdict. If you find Ms. Troy guilty, you will be required to choose from three sentences: twenty-five years to life with no parole for each murder, sentences to run concurrently; or life in prison without parole; or death by lethal injection. I do have the judicial authority to set aside your sentencing recommendation. Are there any questions? Ma’am?”
“Thank you, Judge. Are we going to be sequestered?”
“I thought about it, but I have decided against sequestering. And from the looks on all your faces, I can tell that this is a popular decision. I see no purpose in locking you all away in a hotel for however many days or weeks it takes to get through this trial. You have all read the newspaper accounts of the crimes; many of you know people involved in the case. I have great trust in the wisdom of the American jury, however, and I do not believe we need to treat jurors as if they are fragile and will be corrupted by information in the mainstream culture. I will, however, ask you all not to read newspaper, Internet, or magazine accounts of the ongoing trial, and I will also ask you to not watch televised reports of the trial. Yes?”
“How will we avoid all that, Your Honor? And what happens if we are exposed to something on the news? Or if someone says something to us? Will we get in trouble?”
“No, of course not. But remember that your job is to evaluate the evidence. You all need to keep in mind that nothing you hear outside this courtroom is considered evidence. Do you understand? I’ll repeat it. Nothing you hear outside this courtroom is considered evidence, and it cannot factor into your decision as to the guilt or innocence of the defendant. Sir?”
“What if we get sick, or need to use the bathroom during the trial, or there’s some kind of emergency in our family?”
“None of you need to worry. Regarding personal comfort: Two bailiffs will be stationed at either side of the jury box. All you need to do is raise your hand and a bailiff will immediately come to you. If you need to use the bathroom or do not feel well, you will tell the officer. I am very solicitous of the well-being of my jurors. I have trained my court attendants to be able to communicate with me with a system of hand signals. If one of you needs a bathroom break, and the need is so urgent that you will not be able to wait until the next recess, I will immediately call a recess, and the first thing I will order is the vacating of the jury box. Within seconds, you will all be in the private jury room, which has two nicely appointed bathrooms. A bailiff will be stationed outside the jury room, and as soon as everyone is comfortable, one of you will notify him and we will reconvene. Suffering through testimony with intestinal distress or a full bladder is not going to happen in my courtroom. This I promise you. The Connecticut court system has a reputation for treating its jurors with respect and assuring their comfort. That reputation is deserved. And please do not worry about interrupting the proceedings. As you will quickly learn, both defense and prosecution counsels will have no qualms whatsoever about calling for a recess, no matter where we are in the trial. Does this calm your worries? Good. Any other questions?”
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