Blind Conviction (Nate Shepherd Legal Thriller Series Book 3)

by Michael Stagg

  “Well, yes. Sure.”

  “Did you give her a ticket that night?”

  “I did.”

  “And how was Ms. Ackerman doing that evening?”

  Kirby looked down, and I think he actually blushed a little. “She was great.”

  “And did you see the defendant Archibald Mack that night?”

  Kirby's embarrassment was replaced with a panicked look again. “No, should I have? I didn't think I ever said that I did.”

  Stritch nodded gently. “I'm not saying that you said that, Mr. Granger. I'm just asking if you saw Mr. Mack that evening.”

  “No, but like I said, that was the biggest crowd we'd ever had and I spent a bunch of time running back and forth between the ticket booth and the concessions and then one of the taps broke so that I had to—”

  “Thank you, Mr. Granger.”

  Stritch paused and I could see him reorganizing his examination in his mind before he said, “Mr. Granger, I'm going to hand you what's been marked as State’s Exhibit 12. Can you tell me what that is?”

  “It's a piece of paper.”

  “Yes, indeed it is, Mr. Granger. Can you tell the jury what's on it?”

  “Oh, right. It's a map of the Quarry.”

  As Kirby looked at the map, Stritch put the map up on the screen for the jury to see. “Very good. And is that a true and accurate representation of the Quarry?”

  “Oh, I don't know that.”

  Stritch’s head jerked. “You don't?”

  “I mean, I don't know the exact measurements of everything at the Quarry.”

  Stritch nodded. “I see. Leaving the exact measurements aside for the moment, is the layout of the Quarry that the map shows generally accurate?”

  Kirby raised the map a little closer to his nose and stared at it and stared at it some more and stared at it a little longer before he set it down and said, “Yes. Yes, it is.”

  “Excellent. So let's tell the jury what they're looking at.”

  “Okay.”

  “At the bottom, right in the center, is the front gate?”

  “That's right.”

  “What comes next?”

  “Well, then, right inside the gate is the central courtyard. On the left is the path to the amphitheater, and on the right are the concession stands, bathrooms, and changing rooms.”

  “Great. What is that straight ahead?”

  “As you stand in the courtyard, the Quarry is right in front of you.”

  “Which is right above it on the map? This big blue area?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. Granger, we’re going to be talking to the jury during this trial about different areas in the Quarry.”

  “Okay.”

  “So the water of the Quarry itself is in a rough circle, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I want you to picture the Quarry as a clock.”

  Kirby's brow furrowed. “Okay.”

  “On the south side of the Quarry, between five and seven o'clock here,” Stritch gestured at the map on the screen, “What is this area here?”

  Kirby's eyes cleared. “That's terrace seating. The upper edge is about seventy feet above the water at the courtyard end of the Quarry and there are a series of cement landing areas that stair-step down to about ten feet above the water.”

  “I see. Now on the outer edge of the Quarry, all around this blue circle, is there a path?”

  Kirby nodded. “There is. There's a cement walkway that goes all the way around.”

  “So, if the terrace seating is at six o'clock, right here at the bottom of the Quarry, and I walk around counterclockwise to three o'clock, what do I find here?”

  Kirby looked confused again. “You mean, if I walk from the terrace over to the stairway that leads down to the beach?”

  T. Marvin Stritch smiled and it looked like it might crack his face. “Yes.”

  “You would find the stairway that leads down to the beach.”

  Stritch pointed at the map. “So right here at three o'clock on the map there is a stairway that is how long?”

  “Probably about sixty feet.”

  “And it leads down to what?”

  “To the beach.”

  “Describe the beach to the jury, please.”

  “There's a big landing area filled with sand right at the water’s edge. It's probably, I don't know, one hundred yards wide and fifty yards deep.”

  “So about as big as a football field?”

  “Is that the same size?”

  “That's what I was asking,” said Stritch.

  “I don't know that. Not that I could swear to.”

  Stritch took a deep breath. “I see. And the beach leads to the main swimming area?”

  “Yes. There's an embankment that's only about a foot above the water and ladders so people can jump into the water from the edge of the beach.”

  “Is that where most people gather during the day?”

  “There and on the terraces.”

  “Okay, so let's go around to twelve o'clock on the Quarry.”

  “After going back up the stairs?”

  “Yes. After going back up the stairs.”

  “Okay.”

  There was a pause.

  “What is at twelve o'clock, Mr. Granger?”

  “Another stairway.”

  “Is that stairway in use?”

  “It’s for maintenance purposes only.” Kirby said the words slowly and distinctly, as if he had said them over and over.

  “I see. And how high is the edge of the Quarry above the water here?”

  “About forty feet.”

  “So it's lower at that end?”

  “It is.”

  “And people don't swim there anymore?”

  “Not at that end. We closed that some years ago. We used to run a zip line from the top of the cliff over here at about nine o'clock into the water below the ladder here at twelve o'clock, but we don't anymore.”

  “And why is that?”

  Kirby looked at Stritch and then the judge and then the jury and then at me.

  “Mr. Granger?” said Stritch.

  “Do I have to say it?”

  “You have been asked a question, Mr. Granger,” said Judge Wesley. “Please answer it.”

  “Well, because the lawyers wouldn't let us have any fun.”

  There was some chuckling around the courtroom and even Judge Wesley’s mouth twitched.

  Stritch ran right along with it. “So there used to be a zip line that ran into this area of the Quarry?”

  “Ten years ago or so, yes,” said Kirby.

  “And people would use these stairs to get out of the water?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there a beach area at the bottom of these stairs like there is at the three o'clock stairway?”

  “No. It's all rocks.”

  “Are they sharp?”

  “Well, they’re rocks.”

  “I see. So the stairway is only used for maintenance now?”

  Kirby nodded and said, slowly and distinctly, “The stairway is used for maintenance purposes only. And there is a sign there,” he scrunched up his eyes, “to that effect.”

  “I see. And if we keep going around the clock to eleven o'clock, there is another gate to the outside, is that right?”

  “There is. It's for staff.”

  “And there is another, smaller parking lot back here right outside the eleven o'clock gate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, Mr. Granger, do you have a lighting and video system at the Quarry?”

  “Yes, we do. It was installed, I don't know, about thirteen years, no, I think it was fourteen years ago now when we were—”

  T. Marvin raised his hand. “The time it was installed isn't really important, Mr. Granger. Are there lights along this path that encircle the Quarry?”

  “Yes. The safety of our patrons is our first priority.”

  “Are those lights where these posts are?” />
  Kirby again examined the map for a long time. “Yes.”

  “So again, if we’re talking about this like a clock, the lights would be at eleven, one, three, and five?”

  “That's right.”

  “So that’s the lights. Where are the cameras?”

  “We have cameras showing the front lot, the courtyard, the concession stand/bathroom area, and one above the terraces that’s focused on the water itself.”

  “Were those cameras working on the night of Big Luke concert?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you reviewed the video from that night?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Okay, we’ll get back to that. How late were you there at the Quarry on the night of the concert?”

  “I stayed until probably one in the morning. It takes a while to count the gate and lock up after.”

  T. Marvin nodded. “And which way did you leave that night?”

  “I went around back, to the back lot.”

  And then Kirby Granger started to cry. He stopped talking, and he bowed his head, hands clasped in front of him in his lap, and his shoulders shook as he wept. Judge Wesley looked up, T. Marvin Stritch straightened, and the jury stared.

  “Mr. Granger?” Stritch said.

  Kirby looked up, his eyes instantly bloodshot, tears rolling down his face. “I must've walked right by her,” he said. “I must've walked right by with her down there by the water, just lying there…”

  Kirby broke down completely.

  There was no way that T. Marvin Stritch was going to let that stop. He let Kirby cry it out as the big, sweet man took a tissue, wiped at the tears that were dropping onto his yellow shirt, then blew his nose like a trumpet. He shook a little more and I was about to ask for a recess when Kirby took a big shuddering sigh and looked up.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “It’s quite all right, Mr. Granger.”

  “No. I’m sorry, Abby.” I glanced back at the gallery but Abby wasn’t there.

  “Mr. Granger,” said Judge Wesley gently. “You need to keep your conversation with Mr. Stritch.”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” said Kirby. “I’m sorry, Your Honor.”

  “You have no reason to apologize, Mr. Granger.”

  Kirby nodded, took a deep breath, and looked back at T. Marvin Stritch.

  I was watching T. Marvin Stritch as it all happened. His frustration at Kirby’s digressions and verbal wanderings melted away and his eyes lit up over his cadaverous cheeks. “Yes,” he said. “No reason to apologize at all. I tell you what, let’s go to that video we were talking about a little bit ago.”

  Kirby wiped his eyes one last time and put the tissue in his pocket. “Okay.”

  T. Marvin Stritch strode back to his laptop, hit a couple of buttons, and all four of the Quarry video screens popped up for the jury.

  “Mr. Granger, is this the display of your security video?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “So the jury knows what we're looking at, these would be the monitors for the front parking lot, the courtyard, the concession stand area, and the water, correct?”

  “That's right.”

  “We can watch these individually or all at once?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, I'm going to fast-forward these a bit.” He hit another button. “Mr. Granger is there a way to tell what time this video was being taken?”

  “Yes, the time stamp in the bottom corner there.”

  “And you can synchronize these camera views so you can watch what’s happening simultaneously?”

  “Uhm, what?”

  “You can watch what’s happening at the same time?”

  “Oh, yeah, right.”

  “Mr. Granger, I'm going to ask you to start by looking at the video of the concession stand area. Do you see that?”

  “I do.”

  “And when was this taken?”

  “That looks like after the concert.”

  “And we can tell that from the time stamp?”

  “Uhm, right, yes.”

  The video showed people congregating around a concession stand in small groups when a woman with reddish brown hair, a white shirt, jean shorts, and cowboy boots separated herself a little. Stritch paused the screen and indicated with a laser pointer.

  “Mr. Granger, do you know who this is?”

  “That's Abby.”

  “Abby Ackerman, the victim in this case?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “The hair and, well, that’s her.”

  “Very good. Let's keep going with video.”

  Abby made a motion to some other people in line then set out at a hurried walk for the top of the screen and disappeared out of the picture.

  “Now Mr. Granger, so the jury understands what they’re seeing, what direction was Abby going when she left the screen there?”

  Kirby stared at him.

  “Maybe putting it in the context of a clock again.”

  “Oh, right. She’s heading onto the path that takes you counterclockwise around the Quarry.”

  “So, if you kept going, you’d get to the beach stairs at three o’clock, then the abandoned stairs at twelve o’clock, and the back gate at eleven o’clock?”

  “Right. Exactly.”

  “We’ve just watched Ms. Ackerman set out on that path, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And if she ever came back toward the front, the concession camera and the courtyard camera would pick her up, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  Stritch let the video run, at double speed but still easily followable.

  Abby didn't appear.

  T. Marvin leaned over and paused the video.

  “Now, we have not seen Ms. Ackerman appear in the frame again, have we?”

  “No, sir.”

  “But you know, I think we’ve been distracted looking for Ms. Ackerman. Let's rewind a bit and look over here at the courtyard camera.” He switched screens, rewound a little, and put his laser pointer on a man in a baseball cap, jeans, and a short-sleeved patterned shirt. “There we go. What do you see there?”

  “A man in a baseball cap and a short-sleeved shirt.”

  “Do you know who it is?”

  “From the video?”

  “Yes.”

  Kirby squinted. “I can’t say for sure.”

  “Mr. Granger, did you know the defendant, Archibald Mack before that night?”

  “I still don't know Archibald Mack.”

  “Very good. And do you notice anything else about this man? Anything distinguishing?”

  “Uhm, he’s wearing jeans?”

  “Certainly. Anything else?”

  “His hat.”

  “Yes, you mentioned that. Anything else?”

  “Uhm.”

  “With his hand perhaps?”

  I stood. “Your Honor, we’ve given Mr. Stritch a lot of leeway here but he’s leading.”

  “Mr. Shepherd!” Judge Wesley said.

  “Yes, Your Honor?”

  “Our local rules do not permit speaking objections. If you have one, make it. Succinctly.”

  “Objection, Your Honor. Leading.”

  “Sustained. Mr. Stritch, this is your witness. Don’t lead him.”

  “Yes, Your Honor. Is there anything else you notice about this man, Mr. Granger?”

  “Yes, yes. His hand.”

  Stritch waited a few beats. When Kirby didn’t say anything more, Stritch said, “What about his hand?”

  Kirby thought. “The bandage! There’s a bandage on his left hand.”

  “Very good. Let's keep the video going.” Rather than ask a question, T. Marvin just let the video run. We watched Archie walk straight across the frame of the courtyard camera, into the frame of the concession camera, and straight across that view, never looking aside, avoiding people but walking straight ahead.

  He was hurrying. Right in the direction Abby
had gone.

  When Archie walked out of the frame of the concession camera, Stritch paused it again.

  “So according to the time stamp, this is after Ms. Ackerman passed in the same direction, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And we have not seen Ms. Ackerman appear in any other camera view in that time, right?”

  “That's right.”

  “Let's keep going then.”

  The video ran. The tension in the courtroom grew, even for me, and I knew what was coming.

  Then Archie appeared in the concession camera, coming back from the way he had gone. Stritch pounced on his laptop and paused the video.

  “Mr. Granger, what do you see now?”

  “I see the man in the cap and the patterned shirt coming back.”

  “Coming back from an area that includes the abandoned stairs?”

  I thought about objecting but Archie’s blood was going to prove that he had made it all the way back that far. I stayed in my seat.

  “Yes,” said Kirby.

  “Let's see what this man in the baseball cap does.”

  I knew, but I watched anyway. Stritch let the video run and we watched Archie walk past the concession stand but this time, his route was much closer to the camera.

  “Mr. Granger, is this the same man with the baseball cap we’ve been following?”

  “It is.”

  “Can you tell who it is now?”

  “Now, with this view, I can see that it’s Mr. Mack.”

  Archie’s face was lit and turned up. We all could see it.

  “And do you notice anything else about him?”

  Kirby stared.

  “Do you notice the wrapping on his hand?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you notice anything different about it?”

  Kirby scowled then said, “It's got a dark spot on it now.”

  “Where before it was white?”

  “Yes.”

  Stritch let the video continue and we watched Archie pass through the courtyard and out to the front parking lot. When the video showed Archie passing out of frame to the edge of the parking lot, Stritch stopped it and said, “Mr. Granger, have you looked at this entire video?”

  “I have.”

  “Does Ms. Ackerman ever appear in it again?”

  “On the pathway? No.”

  “Does she appear in another view?”

  Kirby cleared his throat and said, “Yes.”

  “Where? When?”

  Kirby cleared his throat again but didn’t speak.