“Did it annoy you that Mr. Mitchell was popular amongst his friends?”
“No, I had no interest in the man’s popularity.”
“Did it annoy you that Mr. Mitchell was Mexican?”
“No.”
“Do you like Mexicans?”
“I have nothing against them.”
“Do you think that Mexicans are ‘scum’?”
“Objection.” Tanner stood. “This line of questioning is not relevant to this case. Mr. Hunter is performing a personal attack on the witness.”
“Sustained.” Judge Johnson was quick to respond.
“Your Honor,” Hunter argued. “I’m attempting to establish the racial bias this witness has against my client.”
“I said the objection was sustained, Mr. Hunter. Get to your point.”
Hunter composed himself. “Is it true you called Mr. Mitchell numerous racist slurs during the police interview?”
“I was trying to get a confession out of him.”
“So you thought it was fair game to call him racial slurs?”
“I do what I have to do to get the job done.” Richardson was becoming agitated. He squirmed in his seat.
“Including calling people racial slurs?”
“On this occasion, that’s what the situation called for.”
“How many Mexicans have you arrested in the last twelve months?”
“Objection. Relevance.”
“Move on, Mr. Hunter.” Judge Johnson groaned.
“Is it true,” Hunter continued. “That you take money for bribes?”
“Objection!” Tanner leaped to his feet. “The question implies an accusation!”
“Sustained.”
Hunter stared at Richardson. He moved a piece of paper on the lectern then drew a deep breath. “When you arrested Mr. Mitchell, did you read him his Miranda rights and then call him ‘scum’?”
“This is ridiculous. Of course I read his Miranda rights. I arrested the right person. Everyone in here will agree with me.” Richardson struggled to maintain his growing agitation. He turned to look at the jury. “I trust this jury will make the right decision because nothing will save them from judgment if they don’t.”
“Your Honor!” Hunter threw his hands up. “Objection! The witness has threatened the jury!”
Chapter 25
“A motion for a mistrial.” Judge Johnson looked at his watch, moved a file across his desk, and leaned back in his chair. “I need to get on with this trial, so you’d better have a great argument prepared for this conference. I know what you’re claiming, but I won’t be manipulated. Not by this piece of paper, not by the defendant, and not by any big city lawyer.”
Judge Johnson’s narrow chambers behind the courtroom were dim, shut off from the heat and humidity outside behind a pair of thick blinds. The chambers, the judge’s inner sanctum, had a distinguished manner. One wall was covered by a bookshelf, stacked with legal books, including the state law reports and precedents he may be forced to call upon. The other wall had a brown leather couch pushed up against it, and above it, Judge Johnson’s credentials and a photo with a past president.
In the fifty-five minutes since the threat against the jury, Judge Johnson had gathered all the relevant information, reviewed Hunter’s motion for a mistrial, and spent much time thinking.
“Your Honor, this case must be declared a mistrial,” Hunter began. “The jury could not possibly remain impartial after what happened out there. Their decisions will be influenced by the commotion and the threats by one of the most influential and authoritative people in this city. They cannot possibly be expected to make an unbiased decision in this trial. One of the most powerful people in this city made a direct threat to the jury. How can this trial continue?”
Judge Johnson grunted and turned to the seated lawyer. “Mr. Tanner? What’s your response?”
“There was no threat. It was a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding? I hope you’re not serious,” Hunter responded. “That was a direct threat. We all heard it. Under Illinois Criminal Code 720 ILCS 5/32-4, it was a Class 4 felony. He cannot, and must not, be allowed to threaten the jury. You cannot allow this to continue.”
“What you heard is common language used in rural areas in the Midwest, Mr. Hunter,” Tanner said. “You’re the one that’s misunderstood. That’s why it’s important to have local understanding in these sorts of cases. The witness said, ‘nothing will save them from judgment,’ and it was in reference to the Bible, not a threat to the jury. We’re a religious city, and I’m sure that’s how it was interpreted by the jury members.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Judge Johnson responded. “I took the reference to be a nod to the Bible. Although you may not use that language in Chicago, we all use that sort of language here. Bible quotes are commonly used in this county.”
“The defendant cannot possibly receive a fair trial after this incident. The opinion of the jury is going to be clearly biased.” Hunter stood behind one of the chairs. “There’s no choice but to declare a mistrial.”
Judge Johnson sat back in his chair, swinging the chair away from the lawyers to face the wall. He’d made a lot of decisions in his chambers, life or death decisions, decisions that affected the lives of so many people. He clasped his hands in front of him, considering his options, thinking about his next steps. It was two long minutes before he turned back to the lawyers.
“I won’t be played by your fancy games, Mr. Hunter,” Judge Johnson said. “This is a court of law, not a place to play petty playground games.”
“If this case continues, then this is a reversible error. You’re denying Mr. Mitchell due process. A threat against the jury is a felony under the Illinois Criminal Code. And this wasn’t just a threat—it was a threat by a person of authority.”
“Don’t lecture me on the law.” Judge Johnson slammed his closed fist on the table. “I don’t accept the games you want to play. This court will stand above these petty moves. The witness is allowed to make biblical references. This trial is reasonable, fair and just, and the jury will determine there’s no undue influence in this case.”
“Your Honor, you cannot possibly be considering—”
“My decision is made. We’ll interview the jury members about their interpretation of the statement, and if I’m satisfied with their responses, then the trial shall proceed. Once back in the courtroom, we’ll put the dismissal of this motion on the court record, and you can make your objection to its refusal official.” Judge Johnson indicated to the door. “Now get out of my chambers and stop playing games.”
Chapter 26
Hunter’s hotel room felt smaller each night. Sleeping in the uncomfortable bed, complete with lumps and broken springs, he lay awake on the long, hot sleepless nights. The air-conditioner was intermittent, at best. On those long nights, tossing and turning, he wondered what life in the small city was like. Everyone knew everyone, everyone knew everyone’s business, and everyone heard every rumor. But more than that, more than the stories, was that everyone in Longford seemed to want to help each other. Apart from the corruption at the top, it was a city in poor finances, but rich in community. Living in such a way was foreign to Hunter.
The following morning, after Judge Johnson had questioned the jury and dismissed the motion for a mistrial, Hunter declined the chance to continue questioning Richardson.
When Tanner called the second witness, his trial tactic was becoming clear. He would present local eyewitnesses, people the jury could trust, before he brought in his expert witnesses. He knew the jury would respond better to locals testifying with emotion, than the cold hard facts presented by specialists. And once the jury was emotionally invested in the outcome, Tanner would present the experts, adding little pieces of the puzzle, building on the limited amount of evidence.
The first witness to point the finger directly at Javier Mitchell was the first of Chad’s friends who could testify about the altercation at t
he party.
Garry Holden was always going to lay the lies on thick. He was a personal friend of Chad Townsend, a member of the baseball team, and his family was closely connected to the Townsend family. At only twenty-one, he already looked weathered by years of heavy binge drinking, fitting in partying between hours helping his father on the beef farm on the outskirts of the city.
“Thank you for taking the time to talk with us today, Mr. Holden.” Tanner began, seated behind his desk, one leg crossed over the other. “Do you know Mr. Mitchell, the defendant in this case?”
“I’d met Javier a few times during his stay in Longford. I’d been to a few parties, and he’d been there as well. I can’t say we’re friends, but yeah, I knew him.”
“Did you ever see Mr. Mitchell behave violently?”
“A few times.” Holden was chewing gum as he spoke. Most judges wouldn’t stand for that level of disrespect in the courtroom, but Judge Johnson’s family also knew Holden’s family well. “He was always looking like he was about to start a fight.” He paused and brushed the tip of his nose. “Javier was one of the most violent people I’d ever met.”
“What sort of violence are you talking about, Mr. Holden? Verbally abusive or physically abusive?”
“Both. Javier Mitchell was always punching people and things. He had a level of evil in his soul that we hadn’t seen in the city before. I guess that’s what Mexico is like. That sort of—”
“Objection,” Hunter stated. “Prejudicial.”
“Sustained,” Judge Johnson replied. “Garry, stick to the facts. Don’t give us your personal opinion.”
Garry Holden leaned forward to the microphone. “I’ve seen him punch walls before.”
“Thank you,” Tanner replied. “During the time you’ve known Mr. Mitchell, did you see him use drugs in your presence?”
“Objection,” Hunter stated. “The defendant has never been charged with any drug crimes previously, and this information is merely hearsay. It’s of no relevance to this case and if included, could be seen as harmful to the fairness of this trial.”
“I argue it’s relevant, Your Honor. We’re asking the witness to describe his personal experiences, and the things he has personally witnessed. We’re not asking him to relay anything he has not seen.”
“I’ll allow it,” Judge Johnson responded. “However, Mr. Holden, you’re to only talk about your personal experiences.”
“Let me rephrase the question for the benefit of the court.” Tanner looked across to Hunter, smiled, and then continued. “During the time you’ve known Mr. Mitchell, did you take drugs in his presence?”
“I might’ve smoked a joint. And one time, when I was smoking a joint, Javier came over and asked me if he could have some.” There was a slight grin on his face, like he was about to drop Javier into the dirt. “I said no, but then he threatened to punch me, so I gave him the joint and watched him smoke it.”
Javier audibly sighed and shook his head. “Lies,” he whispered under his breath.
“On the night of June 25th, where were you?” Tanner continued.
“I finished work at the farm and then went into the city for a party at Dave Spiller’s house. I arrived with Chad and two other people. I was driving my pick-up truck and parked right out front.”
“What time did you arrive at the party?”
“Around 9pm.”
“And when you arrived, what happened?”
“We walked in and said hello to everyone. We were there to have a good time and enjoy ourselves, but as soon as we walked in, Javier stood up and was looking for a fight. Chad defended himself, and tapped Javier on the nose, but Javier became real violent and punched Chad hard. Chad fell over because he wasn’t expecting it, and then Javier jumped on him. He busted him up, and there was blood everywhere. I grabbed Javier and pulled him back. I told him to stop fighting. He stopped struggling, so I let go of him and helped pick Chad up. I don’t know what he would’ve done if—”
“Objection. Speculation.”
“Sustained.” Judge Johnson agreed. “Please, Garry, stick to the facts as you saw them.”
Holden nodded, and then Tanner continued. “Did Mr. Mitchell say anything to Mr. Townsend after the altercation?”
“Yeah. He said he was going to kill Chad if he didn’t leave the party.”
“He said those exact words?”
“Yeah. He said, ‘I’ll kill you if you don’t get out of here and leave us alone.’”
“How did his voice sound?”
“Objection to the use of the word ‘sound,’” Hunter interrupted. “It calls for characterization.”
“Sustained.”
“Your Honor,” Tanner responded. “Mr. Holden can testify to what he heard.”
“He can testify to the words he heard, but he’s not allowed to add his personal opinion to them.” Judge Johnson was firm.
“Very well.” Tanner turned a page in his file. “Mr. Holden, did you think the threat was real?”
“Objection to ‘think.’ It’s speculation.”
“Sustained.”
“Right.” Tanner looked at his notes. “Mr. Holden, were you, personally, scared when Javier attacked Mr. Townsend?”
“Yeah. Javier had a look in his eyes that made me scared.”
“What happened after the fight between Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Townsend?”
“After the fight, we left the party and Chad got in someone’s truck. I drove around the city for a while before I went home.”
“Did you think Mr. Mitchell was going to kill Mr. Townsend?”
“Objection,” Hunter called out. “Calls for speculation.”
“Sustained,” Judge Johnson responded. “You know better than that, Mr. Tanner.”
“Were you surprised when you heard Mr. Mitchell murdered Mr. Townsend?”
“Objection. The question assumes facts not in evidence.”
“Sustained.” Judge Johnson’s response was flat.
“Did you feel Mr. Mitchell could’ve murdered someone that night?”
“Objection.” Hunter stood. “Your Honor, what’s going on here? The question calls for a conclusion.”
“Sustained, again. Mr. Tanner, please choose your next question carefully. I don’t want to have to hold you in contempt. You know better than this.”
Tanner smirked as he looked across to Hunter. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was putting a local boy on the stand against the outsider. By forcing Hunter to object, by forcing Hunter to stop the local answering questions, the jury saw the city lawyer as a threat to their local customs. It was Tanner, the local, versus Hunter, the outsider.
“No further questions.” Tanner finished.
Hunter waited a few moments before he began. He opened a file, read the first few lines, and then stood and walked over to the lectern at the side of the room.
“Mr. Holden, was Mr. Mitchell ever violent towards you?”
“No.” His chest swelled. “I’m too big for a weasel like him.”
“And you said you saw him act violently many times?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Who else did he punch?”
“Pardon?”
“Can you please name who else he punched?”
Holden looked flustered. “I… I can’t remember their names.”
“You can’t remember their names, or did you make it up?”
“No. I can’t remember.”
“Mr. Holden, these are important details. Please tell the court, where, when, and who you saw Mr. Mitchell punch so we can verify this information with the said person.”
Holden’s mouth hung open for a moment. He looked to the prosecutor, but Tanner looked away. Holden didn’t want to drop anyone else in the mess and wasn’t good at thinking on his feet.
“Mr. Holden?” Hunter pressed. “Who else did you see Mr. Mitchell punch?”
“Look…” Holden was scrambling. “I might not have seen it with my own two eyes, but
I heard about it.”
“Pardon?” Hunter raised his eyebrows. “Can you repeat that?”
“I heard Javier had punched other people. I didn’t see him do it.”
Hunter’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Mr. Holden, are you saying you deliberately lied to this court in your sworn testimony?”
“Look, I didn’t see it myself, but I’m sure it happened. I’m just trying to help. Everyone knows he killed—”
“Careful,” Judge Johnson interrupted. “You won’t finish that sentence, Mr. Holden.”
Hunter turned and looked at the prosecutor, the shock written across his face. Tanner kept his eyes focused on the table in front of him.
“Your Honor,” Hunter turned back to the Judge. “This witness has changed his statement in a matter of minutes. This is blatant perjury. How can we believe anything he has said today? I move to dismiss this witness and his entire testimony under Illinois Criminal Code 720 ILCS 5/32-2 which states, ‘A person commits perjury when, under oath or affirmation, in a proceeding or in any other matter where by law the oath or affirmation is required, he or she makes a false statement, material to the issue or point in question, knowing the statement is false.’”
Judge Johnson groaned. He had no other options. “Counsel? Any objections to the dismissal of this entire testimony?”
Tanner shook his head. “No objections.”
Before Holden could leave the stand, a man from the back of the crowd rose to his feet and announced, “My son ain’t no liar! Javier is the killer!”
“Shut your mouth!” Judge Johnson roared. His face was red. “Roger Holden, you will not shout out anything in my courtroom! Get out of this room. You hear me? You won’t be allowed back in this courtroom for this trial. Bailiffs remove him.”
As the senior Holden left the courtroom, with a bailiff by his side, Judge Johnson instructed the witness to leave the stand. He then turned to the jury, instructing them to disregard the interruption from the witness’s father, and to also disregard the entire testimony from Garry Holden and not to use his testimony in forming a decision on the guilt of Mr. Mitchell.
Natural Justice: A Legal Thriller (Tex Hunter Legal Thriller Series Book 6) Page 14