"Did you hear that Jimmy pulled a knife?" Schulman asked.
"Only when the truant officer kicked him and pulled a gun on him," the old woman said softly. "And the gentleman I worked for in Beverly Hills said this boy had just as much right to pull a knife as the truant officer had to pull a gun, because they are not supposed to have guns, he said. That's what he told me, Mr. Schulman."
"Thank you. That's all," said Schulman.
Now the tears were spilling from Jimmy Smith's eyes. "You leave her alone! You leave my Nana alone!" he sobbed.
Jimmy Smith could never discuss his great-aunt or think of her as other than my Nana. It was always my Nana, the only thing which was ever truly his.
"Mr. Smith, you will have to speak in a quiet tone of voice," said the judge.
"It's not fair! It's not fair!" Jimmy shouted.
"The jury is admonished to disregard any statements of Mr. Smith," said the judge. "He is represented by counsel, who will speak for him."
"Nothing further," said Ray Smith.
"Defendant Smith rests?"
"Yes, your Honor," said Ray Smith.
Before the final arguments to the jury there was one last witness to testify for the defense-Gregory Powell.
While Greg walked to the stand, Pierce Brooks looked around the room at some of the familiar faces, two of which he had come to pity: a crippled black woman and a sad-eyed music teacher from Oceanside. "Jimmy Smith's aunt was a poor old confused lady," Brooks said later. "I don't know what she ever did to deserve that miserable coward she raised. And I felt sorry for Gregory Powell's father. He was a nice guy. His only problem was he'd never booted his wife in the butt, years before, when he should have."
Greg's testimony was emotional from the start:
"Well, number one, I guess it's pretty obvious I'm a sentimental slob. When I go to the movies I cry when there's a touching scene. I've been asked many times whether I feel remorse about this. Yes, I feel remorse for Ian Campbell's death. I feel more remorse however for his wife and kids. I'll go to prison, if this is the sentence, and I'll stay there and work and try to make up for Ian Campbell's death.
"I still don't feel that I should be on the streets. I honestly can't say and don't know whether I can cope with the stresses and strains that are out there. I feel in my heart that even though I know I am guilty of a terrible thing, that I should be allowed to live, because I feel that there is good that I can do.
"There've been many men in prison who have done good, that have made contributions to society. Whether I am capable of doing it or not, I don't know yet. All I can say is that I will be trying." And then Greg began to weep.
"Are you composed? Compose yourself," said Schulman, whose turn it was to cross examine.
Greg nodded, wiping his nose and eyes with a handkerchief.
Pierce Brooks burned to read a document he had in his hands, a document which had been given to a sheriff's deputy in the jail by an inmate named Segal who had been an aspiring writer and actor prior to his arrest for selling marijuana. The document was a one-act drama authored by inmate Segal in collaboration with Gregory Powell, and Brooks had been holding it for five months.
Inmate Segal thus became the first person to write Greg's version of the kidnapping. It was not the version told in court by Karl Hettinger, nor by Jimmy Smith-nor by Gregory Powell for that matter. It was what Pierce Brooks would call a punk's fantasy, which to Brooks revealed the real Gregory Powell.
"Fate intervened though, for Segal escaped after his transfer to Chino Prison, and Pierce Brooks was unable to get the drama introduced during the trial without Segal's testimony. But Brooks kept it and referred to it often, especially the portions in Greg's own handwriting wherein he would try to correct Segal's atrocious grammar and spelling, and insert the word "cop" in place of Segal's "officer" to make the tale yet tougher.
Brooks isolated certain passages as his favorites, hoping that somehow there could be a theory of law discovered wherein it could be introduced: POWELL: "Take the punk's gun, Jimmy." Hettinger hesitated, his hand on his gun.
POWELL: Laughed. "Go ahead, punk," he said.
campbell: "For God's sake, he's got us cold."
POWELL: "You know what, man-you should have been a dead man back there acting so funny." Hett started sniveling.
POWELL: "Before we drop these punks off, do you think we ought to take care of business-How much bread do you 2 have?"
campbell: "I have about ten."
Hettinger: "I have about the same."
POWELL: "Boy, you guys are hurtin, we've got five times that amount in pocket change." To S. "We'll knock over a super Market before we leave the valley." "I'll make a deal w/the 2 of you. We'll pull off onto one of these dark canyons-I'll put a couple of slugs in both of your guns. Then stick it in your holsters. I'll shoot it out with you one at at time. If one of you gets me Jimmy will throw your guns in the bushes & split. I need some action and it shore would be a quick way to solve this mess. I don't think the punks have enough nerve to try it.
What about it?"
CAMPBELL: "No thanks, man-I don't want any part of it. Just turn me loose and I'll be happy. They don't pay me enough to try to be a hero."
POWELL: "What about you, Buddy-you were making noise like a hero back there when we picked you up. Are you game?"
Hettinger: "No, if I shot you you might still manage to shoot >>
me.
POWELL: "In other words you're chickenshit-"
Hettinger: "Yeah, I guess I am at that, I never thought I'd get in a position like this-"
POWELL: Laughing. "Well it sure would have saved us a lot of trouble. If either one of you would have gone for it you would have been dead anyway. It may sound like bragging but you punks don't know what an expert shot is-cause if there's any rating above expert I'm about 20 grades above it." Brooks read on and on, a dreary little drama riddled with "punks" and "Powell laughing" until the moment of arrival in the onion field.
powell: "OK H-Climb on out" He did-P climbed out on the passenger side. As I walked across to the back of the car I could hear Smith speaking.
smith: "Are you kidding-Have you ever heard of the Little Lindbergh Law-"
campbell: "Yes."
powell: I raised my gun to cover C as he looked at me- coming around the back of the car & shot him- H screamed.
smith: "He isn't dead," & he started firing instead into C as he lay on the ground. I ran across behind S & the only thing I could think of was (I've got to get that other cop) (It was like a scream in my mind) I was alone w/1 dead cop laying dead in the road and another hiding close by who I had no way of flushing from cover-I walked back to the other cop laying on the ground--
And now Pierce Brooks looked at Gregory Powell, crying on the stand for the children of Ian Campbell, and Brooks read the last line of the drama where Segal and Greg described his capture:
I was sick for I knew I would never see Max again. Cause I never dreamed that the cops would get me to the station alive-Had I been granted 2 wishes at that moment I think they would have been 1- to have been face to face w/J with a gun in my hand 2-or more important to know what I knew now & just be meeting my wife for the first time-But wishes were useless for I knew I had been born to loose
Scum, thought Pierce Brooks, watching Greg wiping his nose, his shoulders shaking, as Marshall Schulman stood by the counsel table staring at the young man. It was not the killing which now angered and embarrassed the detective. It was the killer's unwilling ness to pay for it with his life, and most of all the unmanly sniveling from him who had edited and co-authored the one-act drama. Scum, thought the detective. Scum. Scum.
"Who are you crying for, Mr. Powell? Yourself?" asked Schulman finally.
"No sir"
"When did you decide to start crying for Ian Campbell and his wife and children?"
"Mr. Schulman . . ."
"After you were found guilty?"
"I think the first regret... that I felt was
the night I looked down at the ground and realized the terrible thing that had happened, and I attempted to commit suicide."
"Is that why you asked Chief Fote for a break? You didn't do anything, Jimmy Smith did everything. Is that when you felt so bad?"
"Mr. Schulman, at that time I was thinking of the living."
"Yourself?"
"Max and the unborn baby."
"Why weren't you crying when Chief Fote talked to you?"
"I was."
"He's not here," said Schulman sardonically, glancing at the counsel table. "Mr. Brooks is here. Why weren't you crying when you talked to Mr. Brooks in all those conversations?"
"I wanted to die then."
"You weren't crying then, were you?"
"No, because I was attempting to die."
"When did you first feel sorry for Ian Campbell and his family?"
"Well that is a compound question so I will have to answer it in two parts," said Gregory Powell.
Pierce Brooks dropped his eyes, and smiled and thought, I knew you wouldn't let me down Greg, my boy. You never fail me.
"The outside world was so tough to you," said Schulman, "that after Officer Campbell was shot by you, you tried to kill Officer Hettinger because you didn't want to go back to the institution?"
"Your Honor, I would object to this," said Greg.
"Why, does the truth hurt?"
"Just a moment," said the judge.
"I will ask you also," said Greg, "to cite the district attorney for misconduct, and I would ask for a mistrial at this time!"
"Did you feel remorse when you were emptying your gun at Officer Hettinger as he was running away?" Schulman continued.
"I would object to that as being outside the lines of cross examination," said Greg.
"The objection is overruled," said the judge.
"All right then, apparently I did, sir. I missed him."
"What makes you think you're such a good shot? Because you shot at cans?"
"Mr. Schulman, I have hunted all my life. I belonged to the Junior Sportsman's Club when I was a kid. I don't think you could miss at that range, unless you had some subconscious desire to."
Pierce Brooks shook his head. There it was. What he'd been waiting for. The Hollywood syndrome. Of course, anyone could hit a running man in the black of night with his heart pounding and a dead man at his feet. In movies it was always that easy, wasn't it? Pierce Brooks knew he himself would miss the silhouette target this month at the police academy range. In daylight, stationary, at seven yards.
"I guess you were happy about missing him then. You were so happy you tried to hunt him down like a dog."
"Your Honor," said Greg, "to protect the record, would you caution Mr. Schulman to please stay within proper bounds. I cannot interpose an objection every time because I don't know all of them."
"Do you want a lawyer? The court will give you one just for the asking. For free too," snapped Schulman.
"The jury is admonished to disregard the statement of Mr. Schulman," said the jiidge<
"I guess I should cite him for misconduct at this time," said Greg.
Attorney Ray Smith's desperate final argument to the jury attacked the credibility of Gregory Powell. There was nothing left to the old lawyer:
". . . And Powell asks his father, in substance, 'What's wrong with you, Dad? Why have I been like I have been? What's wrong with you? Boy oh boy! I thought he had sunk to a new low. 'What's wrong with you, Mother? Why am I like this? Why do I smoke marijuana? Why am I a homosexual? Why did I rob people? Why do I take girls out and get them pregnant without benefit of clergy? Why? Why? Why?' "
And Greg's mother, who had been given permission to assist her son during final argument, sat at the counsel table taking copious notes.
During his final arguments to the jury, Marshall Schulman said: " 'Well, we told you we were going to let you guys go, now you know we lied.' That is in effect what Powell was saying to the officers. He was going to torture them a little bit before they go. He raised the gun and shot Officer Campbell right in the face.
"Why does Powell sit here and cry? Because he's hoping you don't have as much guts as he has. You can't blame the murder of a human being on his mother and father. He has his own choice. He has his own free will. He knows what he's doing. Maybe I should've called Ian Campbell's mother and his wife, I don't know. I feel sorry for Mr. Powell's parents, but who's putting them through it? You've got the answer right over there-Mr. Remorseful, Gregory Powell.
"What are you going to do, send them back to school? Send Jimmy Smith to the prison boxing team, or the baseball team? Let them visit all their friends? Let them be big shots? Let them tell their fellow prisoners: 'What have you done? Well, I committed a robbery. Well, I got myself a cop!'
"Do you want to let them be big men at San Quentin and then start working on the Adult Authority and eventually get out? Are you going to allow them the chance to escape?
"The only thing that's going to help Jimmy Smith is to make Powell look worse than Jimmy. It's nothing but a question of vicious and more vicious, horrible and more horrible. They had a trial out there in the onion field. They found the officers guilty of being witnesses who could identify them.
"Do you understand Jimmy Smith? He's easy to understand sitting there with his Folsom slouch. He's a cold blooded, no
"Again, words fail me when it comes to describing the vicious- ness of this killing. I can only visualize it. I can visualize Officer Campbell out in that onion field. I can visualize his desires, his wants, his needs. I can see it and I can believe it. And I can see Hettinger too, and the fear and terror that he was in, and may still be in, with that experience that he lived through.
"Ladies and gentlemen, there is really no proper punishment but the imposition of the death sentence on these two men. I will ask you to be strong enough to return such a verdict as to each one of these defendants. Thank you."
On September 12 the jury returned with a verdict of death as to both defendants. One of the attorneys fired by Greg, Public Defender Kathryn McDonald, was in the courtroom, and was startled by a theatrically ominous thunderclap which followed the reading of the death verdict.
Gregory Powell was not startled by thunderclaps nor even by death verdicts. He was already at work on his motions for a new trial, and his various escape schemes which were being frustrated by jail security. He called a jail captain to the stand to complain of his being taken to the law library chained to a wheelchair, and of his runners, family members, being searched.
"Your Honor," said Jimmy Smith in a motion of his own, "I don't know how to explain this fully. I mean, I guess you can understand. I am about to die. I think Mr. Smith has did a wonderful job. I think he did the best he could. But it is obvious to me,whether it is to this court or not, that he didn't do his best. Because I am innocent and I have been found guilty and sentenced to death. And I would like the opportunity ... I would rather have nothin to do with Mr. Smith anymore so far as this case is concerned. And I demand this, your Honor."
Judge Brandler partially granted Greg's motion:
"The defendant Gregory Ulas Powell will be permitted to make use of the law library twice a week for three-hour sessions. We are going to allow you to make use of any and all law books that you desire in your cell."
"I wish to state that I will be filing an affidavit of prejudice against the court for the restrictions that have imposed upon me," said Greg angrily.
At last, in late September, Jimmy Smith was finally given his wish. An attorney wanted very much to handle his motion for a new trial. The attorney, Irving Kanarek, would one day defend an even more famous murderer, Charles Manson. Being such a celebrated killer, Manson could choose almost anyone and selected Kanarek after asking specific questions about various kinds of lawyers. Man- son was to smile that day, a smug, self-righteou
s, fanatic's smile.
"Get me this Kanarek," Manson was to say that day.
Marshall Schulman knew little of Irving Kanarek when he appeared in court as Jimmy Smith's attorney to make the automatic motion for a new trial.
Schulman hitched up his pants and thought of what he had heard about the attorney. Kanarek was short and burly, with heavy cheeks and heavy lips. He looked a bit sad in the eyes and smiled seldom. He seemed tired from carrying a mountain of law books and a bulging briefcase.
Marshall Schulman would come to liken him to a bulldog. Not just in appearance but in technique. Jimmy Smith would call him a club fighter. "Nothin smooth about him," Jimmy would say, "but he wades right in there."
That first day he waded right in there.
"You want two months' continuance until December?" the judge asked incredulously.
"The transcript is five thousand, seven hundred pages, your Honor," said Kanarek.
"This court has the matter of the proper and expeditious administration of justice to take into consideration," said Judge Brandler.
Then Kanarek framed the kind of exceedingly polite, bewildering sentence which would eventually send Marshall Schulman home with a belly full of acid at the end of a day.
"I would like at this time, also, your Honor, to suggest to the court that it would be a violation of the due-process clause of the fourteenth amendment to the United States Constitution and the several cases involving right to counsel which have been decided by the United States Supreme Court, in which that court has held that the right to private counsel, or the right to counsel of a criminal defendant, especially in a capital case, is such that in order to protect a criminal defendant who is in such a status, that the courts make sure that the defendant has all of his rights protected."
Judge Brandler denied the motion and set the motion for a new trial for October 31. Gregory Powell asked for Public Defender Kathryn McDonald to come back and his motion was granted.
But on October 23, a notice of Motion for Discovery was filed. Irving Kanarek and Kathryn McDonald wanted all documents concerning the matter of the excused juror, Mrs. Bobbick.
the Onion Field (1973) Page 33