Wall of Silence

by Dorey Whittaker

  “Susan, don’t worry. They’re good people. Dan and Jean have been good parents, and they’ll help their daughter get through this. I have to go, but I’ll see you Monday morning.”

  With this he excused himself and all Susan could do was wait for Monday to come.

  Chapter 38

  You could almost taste the anticipation in the courtroom as the family took their seats. They studied every face as people filed in, jockeying for the best seats in the house. They were concerned only with couples, trying to see if they could pick out Mr. and Mrs. Winslow. They had no idea what they looked like, so they studied faces, looking for a clue to their identity.

  As Susan looked from couple to couple, the door opened and she watched her mother come in and take the same seat she had occupied throughout the trial. Quickly, before her mother looked over, Susan spun around and looked forward. She did not want to make eye contact with her. As she sat there thinking about what was going to be said today, she wondered what her mother’s reaction would be to all this. All through the trial she had sat stone-faced, never responding to anything. Susan pondered her mother’s demeanor. You’re so filled with hate you can’t feel anything else. I guess as long as you keep yourself filled up with hate, there isn’t any room to feel guilt, but if you never allow the guilt feelings to come, you’ll never be able to put the past behind you. I feel sorry for you, Mother.

  The familiar sound of the side door opening drew Susan’s attention back to the front of the courtroom. She watched as Lisa was escorted in, obviously quite nervous but glad it was almost over. Lisa was barely in her seat when the jury filed in, and the courtroom was called to order.

  Judge Kirkley entered a moment later, and after a quick formal greeting to the jury, he asked Mr. Duncan to call his next witness.

  “Your Honor, the defense would like to call Ms. Hope Winslow to the stand.” Duncan remained seated with his arm around Lisa. He knew this was killing her.

  The bailiff pushed open the back door and signaled the officer standing outside the witness room to send in the next witness. The whole family turned and stared at the door, waiting to get their first look at Hope. They could hear her footsteps as she made her way across the lobby of the courthouse, and as she stepped through the door, Scott heard a gasp escape from Susan.

  Susan’s eyes were riveted on the girl, and she was having difficulty breathing as she watched Hope walk up the aisle toward the witness stand. Leaning close to Scott, she whispered, “She looks like Lisa,” and then she began to cry.

  Scott slipped his arm around her and held on tight. The image of this young Lisa was unmistakable.

  After Hope was sworn in, Duncan stood up and approached her. With a reassuring smile he asked, “Will you please tell the court your full name?”

  “Hope Spencer Winslow.” Her voice sounded anxious, and she didn’t take her eyes off Mr. Duncan. She was afraid to look at Lisa.

  Trying to loosen her up a little, Mr. Duncan stepped a little closer and said, “It’s all right, Miss. Winslow, take your time. Now, please tell the court how old you are and where you live.”

  Hope knew she needed to relax a little, so she forced a smile and said, “I’m twenty-two and I live in Culver City, California.”

  “Have you always lived in California?”

  “Yes. Except during college. I lived in Colorado during college.”

  Leaning against the jury box, Mr. Duncan knew the jury was probably busy trying to figure out what a girl from California had to do with this case. “Miss. Winslow, have you ever been to Georgia before coming here to testify?”

  Hope let her eyes move to the jurors. Duncan had deliberately placed himself in front of them so she could let her eyes wander in their direction as she answered, “Yes. Once.”

  “Can you tell this court when that was, and for how long?”

  Hope’s gaze drifted over to Lisa, “It was last April. I was here for one day.”

  Stepping forward, Duncan handed her a copy of her airline tickets. “Now, Hope, are these the airline tickets you used for that visit?”

  Taking them from Mr. Duncan, Hope flipped through the tickets, and handing them back, she said, “Yes. These are mine.”

  Turning to Judge Kirkley, Mr. Duncan asked, “I’d like to place these airline tickets into evidence as defense exhibit twelve, Your Honor.”

  Judge Kirkley simply nodded.

  Setting the tickets down on the desk, Duncan turned around and faced the witness. “These tickets were originally booked for a three-day layover in Atlanta. You were to fly out of Los Angeles, arriving in Atlanta on Saturday morning. Your return booking was for the following Tuesday. Is that correct?”

  Nodding, Hope then said, “Yes. That was the plan. I was to return to Los Angeles on Tuesday morning.”

  “But that’s not what the airline records show, Ms. Winslow, do they? When did you return to Los Angeles?”

  Putting her hand on her knee to keep it from shaking, Hope answered, “No. Instead of waiting until Tuesday, I caught a standby flight.”

  Leaning forward ever so slightly, Duncan asked, “When?”

  Realizing she hadn’t been clear, she quickly said, “Oh, I’m sorry. It was that Sunday morning.”

  “Ms. Winslow, you flew all the way from Los Angeles to Atlanta, arriving Saturday morning around nine o’clock and flew back that very next morning? Is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Duncan walked over and sat on the edge of his desk so the jury could watch both Hope and Lisa. “Now, Hope, will you explain to this court why you wanted to come to Jefferson last April?”

  With a quick glance at Lisa, Hope brought her eyes back to Mr. Duncan. “I came to Jefferson to meet my birth mother. My parents adopted me when I was three days old. I’ve always known I was adopted, and I just wanted some questions answered. I wanted to see what she looked like and ask her why she gave me away.”

  Duncan didn’t have to look at the jury. They were already ahead of him. It was obvious who her mother was. “Ms. Winslow, can you point to the person you believe is your birth mother?”

  Lifting her hand, Hope pointed to Lisa. “I know she is.”

  Duncan nodded. “Now, Hope, was Lisa aware you were coming?”

  “No, sir. I was afraid she wouldn’t see me. I had no way of knowing what her story was and didn’t want her to tell me to stay away. I wasn’t going to move in with her. I just wanted to talk to her.”

  “So, did you two meet?”

  “Yes, at the bakery. She acted like she was glad to meet me.” With this statement, Hope broke down in tears. Months of stress were showing, and she couldn’t maintain control any longer.

  Putting his hand up to stop the next question, Judge Kirkley bent down and asked, “Ms. Winslow, do you need a break?”

  Without looking up, Hope shook her head no; she wanted this over.

  Duncan picked up a photo from the evidence table, walked over, and handed it to her.

  “Hope, do you recognize this man?”

  Barely looking, as if never wanting to see that face again, she answered, “Yes, sir. That’s the man who came into the bakery kitchen that night.”

  Taking the photo from her and passing it among the jury, Duncan then asked, “Hope, that night, did you know who he was?”

  “No, sir. I thought he was a robber.”

  “Ms. Winslow, do you now know who the man in that photo was?”

  “Yes. He was her father,” she said, pointing at Lisa.

  Susan noticed Hope didn’t refer to him as her grandfather. She also noticed she referred to Lisa as “her.”

  Leaning against the jury box, Duncan clarified, “Ms. Winslow, either before or after that night, have you talked with Lisa Miller about that night?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Have you talked with any friends or family members of Lisa Miller regarding that night?”

  “No, sir.”

  Stepping closer to Prosecutor Gordon’s d
esk, Mr. Duncan folded his arms in front of him and asked, “Ms. Winslow, in your own words, would you please tell the court what happened that night after Charles Miller entered that kitchen?”

  The family sat there hearing Hope tell the jury the same story Lisa had told them four days earlier. Several times her emotions started to get away from her as she relived the terror of that night. Once or twice she had to stop and take a drink of water before continuing. Her voice shook with emotion as she gave detailed information about where each of them was standing, what was said, and how she felt. Her description of Charles Miller was gut-wrenching, and the jury was again witnessing one of his victims.

  The jurors kept their eyes fixed on Hope. They were struggling right along with her. Yet again, a witness was drawing them right into one of Charles Miller’s tirades, and they were having absolutely no trouble believing every single word. Then, as she got to the point in her testimony where she was sharing her sense of panic that he wouldn’t let go of Lisa’s throat, she stopped.

  Duncan waited, expecting her to continue when she had gathered her composure, but she didn’t. She just sat there staring at him. He walked over and gently probed, “What happened then, Hope?”

  Hope ignored his question. She turned her gaze toward the back of the courtroom. Susan knew she must have been looking at her parents for some kind of moral support. Then slowly, her eyes returned to Mr. Duncan. With almost a whisper, came, “I hit him. I picked up the rolling pin, and I hit him. He was killing her. She couldn’t breathe and was turning blue. I had to stop him, but when I hit him the gun went off and he fell. I killed him.”

  At this declaration, Lisa began to cry. All her sacrifices, trying to protect her baby from Chuck Miller, had failed. Her baby had now been poisoned by him as well.

  Stepping over to the evidence table, Mr. Duncan picked up the rolling pin that had been retrieved from the storage room at the bakery and walked over near the jury. On other occasions, with other witnesses, he would have placed that rolling pin right in the witness’s hands, but not this time. Hope was traumatized enough just having to tell this story. To make her hold the object she knew she had used to take a person’s life would be an unnecessary cruelty. “Hope, do you recognize this marble rolling pin?”

  With a flash of a peek, she nodded and said, “Yes.”

  “Hope, is this the rolling pin you picked up in that alley and used to protect your birth mother? The object you used to stop Charles Miller from committing murder?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Duncan then walked over to the evidence table, placed the rolling pin down and returned to his desk. He picked up a stack of reports, and offered them to the court. “Your Honor, these reports show that a search warrant was issued and executed at Bascom’s Bakery. They found this rolling pin, and the forensic findings matched the head wound to Chuck Miller. This report also indicates that the fingerprints belonging to Hope Winslow were found on this object.”

  Returning to the witness, Mr. Duncan then asked, “Hope, why didn’t you stay here and tell the police what happened?”

  As the tears came unabated, Hope pleaded, “I wanted to. I was just so scared. I have never seen anyone like that in my whole life. I knew he was going to kill both of us. Then when the gun when off, I panicked, and she was telling me to run because she didn’t want my life ruined because of this. I know I shouldn’t have, but I was so scared. All I could think of was getting home where I’d be safe. I ran back to my rented car and took off for Atlanta. I got there around two in the morning on Sunday. I caught the first flight back to Los Angeles that morning. I wasn’t even sure he was seriously hurt until two months later. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  The jury now had all the pieces they needed. Duncan noticed several of them looking over at Lisa with comforting smiles. They now understood what had happened that night. They didn’t care that Lisa had lied. It no longer mattered. That was for someone else to deal with; they knew what they had to do.

  Duncan wasn’t going to bring up what Gordon did right now. He didn’t want the jury to have to deal with any more facts. Gordon’s guilt was a matter for another day. “Your Honor, I have no other questions for this witness.”

  Judge Kirkley looked over at Gordon, who quickly waived away his opportunity to cross-examine this witness. As Hope stepped down from the witness box and passed Lisa’s seat, she paused to say, “I’m sorry I waited so long,” and then took her seat next to her parents.

  Susan turned and watched as Hope fell into her mother’s arms. So you’re her parents, she thought. I hope you give us a chance, although I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. Susan watched as Jean Winslow gently comforted her daughter. As Susan’s gaze remained locked on these two women, Jean lifted her eyes off her daughter’s face and turned to face Susan. Susan felt embarrassed, as if getting caught peeking into an intimate moment. A sweet smile of understanding appeared on Jean Winslow’s face, and Susan returned it with a nod of acknowledgment. There was a lot said in that smile, and content to let that be enough for now, Susan turned back in her seat and faced forward to hear the closing arguments.

  The judge made a quick sweep of the courtroom. As his eyes stopped on Duncan, he thought, Good job, Duncan. I wondered how you were going to introduce this girl to the jury. You gave them just the information they would need to protect your client. If you had given in to the temptation of drowning the jury with the minutiae of details, because of your personal animosity for Gordon, you would have made their job harder. Yes, the details would certainly have embarrassed Gordon, but that’s not your job.

  Then, turning his eyes to Prosecutor Gordon, he thought, That, I’m happy to say, will be my job.

  Having warned them both to be ready with their closing arguments Judge Kirkley turned to Duncan and said, “Mr. Duncan, if you please.”

  Duncan quickly gathered his closing notes and walked over to the jury, as if to have a personal conversation with them. He knew he did not need to beat them over the head with the evidence. “Ladies and gentlemen, at the beginning of this trial I told you the prosecution was going to show you who Lisa Miller was, and he did. I also told you I was going to show you who Lisa Miller has become, and I have. You have also been told who Mr. Charles Miller was and what he was capable of doing. You have seen the nightmare his wife and children were forced to live through. It is now time that you, the jury, put an end to Charles Miller’s reign of terror. You, and you alone, can stop the nightmare for Lisa Miller.

  “Yes, my client lied. Yes, our witness ran. Was that wrong? Yes, but did my client commit murder? No! Was the action taken by my client and her daughter in self-defense? Absolutely! There are many issues I could repeat during closing arguments, but you have already heard them. Hope Winslow had nothing to gain by stepping forward. The forensics reports verify her account of that night.

  “There is one item I would like to put before you as you deliberate. Ask yourselves, why was Charles Miller wearing latex gloves that night? Could it be that he knew what he was intending to do and knew he would be the logical suspect? Did he not want the police to find his fingerprints anywhere near that bakery when Lisa’s body was found beaten to death? Ask yourself, what other reason could he have had?

  “Ladies and gentlemen, life is complicated for all of us. But for people who have had to grow up being terrorized, the complexities of life sometimes simply boil down to survival. My client was forced to live with secrets in order to survive that home. Is it any wonder she would revert back to her childhood method of survival when placed in a terrifying situation? She did not intend to shoot and kill her father in that alley. She was simply trying to save the life of her daughter and herself. If, in the aftermath of that action, she was guilty of poor judgment, that is not for you to decide. Yours is only to decide if Lisa Miller did intentionally, and with forethought, take the life of Charles Miller. Understanding all of this, it is your duty to find my client, Lisa Miller, not guilty.”

  Duncan co
nfidently returned to his seat next to Lisa and gave Gordon a polite but mocking smile. He knew Gordon was in a tight spot. Judge Kirkley had all but taken the wind out of his sails, and Gordon needed to pick his words carefully.

  Duncan sat back, preparing to listen with interest to Gordon’s faulting attempt to wrap up his closing statement.

  Judge Kirkley nodded for Gordon to begin, but there was no movement at the prosecution’s table. Duncan studied Gordon’s body language as his fingers slid up and down the edge of his prepared statement. Gordon’s nervous twitch, which he’d observed in the judge’s chambers, was back, and it made Duncan want to walk over and remove those invisible eyeglasses Gordon was nervously trying to twitch into place.

  Finally, tired of waiting, Judge Kirkley ordered Gordon to begin.

  Gordon gathered his notes, and, knowing he needed to weigh them carefully, he remembered how, in the beginning, he had been so convinced of Lisa’s guilt. He had prosecuted many of these wretched women and honestly felt society was better served by getting them permanently off their streets, even if that required closing your eyes to suspicious evidence. After all, it was for the common good of the community. He had been so arrogant and pompous; he wouldn’t listen when Officer Swanson tried to tell him he was wrong about this woman. Once he had read through her criminal file, he closed his ears to everything else because he had a case that would put him on the front page.

  As he stepped in front of the jury to give his closing arguments, his haughty demeanor was gone. He knew his political goals had trapped him, and now they were gone. He knew Judge Kirkley was a bulldog and wouldn’t let go of this.

  Certain that Kirkley would call for an investigation, and with almost a sigh, Gordon began his closing arguments. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we have a witness who admits to leaving the scene of a crime. She remained silent for sometime while we were forced to draw conclusions of what happened, based on the available evidence. Please, keep in mind that the defendant herself did not tell the truth, and the evidence was telling us this. The defendant’s criminal record strongly suggested we were dealing with a person who was out of control and a danger to society. Only you, the jury, can decide if that is still true. It is up to you to decide if the testimony of this witness is credible or not.”