Without a Hitch (30 page)
“They’re going
to tell you he’s a horrible man, but we don’t convict people of crimes they
didn’t commit just because we don’t like them. And the fact the prosecution is
asking you to do exactly that tells you everything you need to know about their
cold hard facts.”
Beckett flipped
the page of his notepad.
“The prosecution
needs to show you that Beaumont opened checking accounts and credit cards in
the names of fifty-three real people, but they’re only going to talk about two
people, two accounts. Why? As you hear the testimony, ask yourself: why
doesn’t the prosecution bring any witnesses to link Beaumont to any of these
other mystery accounts? Why are there no videos showing him opening these
accounts? Where are the witnesses?”
Beckett paused to
let the jury consider his point.
“And what about
these two accounts? The prosecution wants you to believe Beaumont opened a
fake account at Penn Bancorp, that’s the first account. To prove this, they’ll
rely on a witness named Maggie Smith. She’s a manager at Penn Bancorp. But
ask yourself, does she actually identify Beaumont? Does anyone from Penn
Bancorp? The prosecution also wants you to believe Beaumont opened a second
account, this time at First Regional. To prove that, they’ll rely on Natasha
Freet. She’s a teller. But can she identify Beaumont like they claim? Do they
offer any evidence that he ever opened
any
account? Those are the cold
hard facts you need to watch.”
Beckett closed
his notebook.
“Focus on the
facts, not the innuendo, not the suggestions, just the facts. As you do, keep
three things in mind. The prosecution has the burden of proof. That means
they need to prove every element of their case or you need to acquit Beaumont.
You can’t guess, you can’t suppose, you can’t assume, and you can’t fill in the
gaps. If something is missing, it’s not your fault; it’s the prosecution’s
fault for bringing a case they never should have brought and for asking you to
convict a man without showing you evidence of his guilt. Secondly, you’ve all
heard the phrase ‘beyond a reasonable doubt.’ That means exactly what it
says. You need to be sure, beyond any reasonable doubt, that the prosecution
has proven every single element of every single crime they allege. They can’t
just offer you a suspicion and they can’t suggest something probably happened, they
need to convince you beyond any reasonable doubt. Finally, in our system of
justice, a person is innocent until proven guilty. To assume that Beaumont is
guilty or that any fact is true is morally, ethically, and legally wrong. If
you do that, you deny Beaumont his most fundamental right as an American, the
same right afforded to you, to me and to the prosecution. As Mr. Pierce said,
you are the guardians.”
With the opening
statements finished, Judge Sutherlin excused the jury for lunch, but not before
instructing them not to speak to anyone about the case. “When you are
downstairs in the cafeteria, do not speak to anyone about this case. You may
not speak to anyone from the media or anyone from the defense or the
prosecution. You may not talk about this case amongst yourselves. You are not
to read anything about this case or watch any coverage that may happen to be on
television. If someone nearby starts talking about this case, walk away. If
anyone tries to speak to you about the case, let the bailiff know immediately,
and we’ll take care of the rest. The jury is dismissed until 1:30.” With
that, the clerk ordered everyone to rise until the jury, and then the judge,
left the courtroom.
“Morales is
nervous about something,” Beckett whispered to Corbin. “Follow her and see
what happens. I’m going to prepare for Russell.” Beckett looked at his watch.
“We have about an hour and a half. Let’s meet downstairs in twenty minutes.”
As Beckett spoke, the bailiff discreetly shackled Beaumont’s wrists and then
his ankles. “I’ll see you after lunch, Beaumont. Hang tight.”
“Shit, I ain’t
got nothing to do but hang,” Beaumont replied, before being led back to the
holding cell.
Twenty minutes
later, Corbin found Beckett sitting in the cafeteria writing notes. He looked
around to make sure no one could hear them. “Get this. Webb was standing by
himself, down the hall from Russell. Morales made a beeline for Webb. I
couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was nasty. When it was done, Webb
tossed his hands in the air and stormed off down the hall toward the
staircase.”
“Did he leave
the building?” Beckett asked.
“I don’t know.
I couldn’t follow him without being obvious. He was pissed though, and she
looked worried. After he disappeared, she went over to Russell and argued with
him. It looked like she told him to follow Webb, but after he looked at his
watch, they seemed to change their minds.”
“Interesting.”
“I suspect Webb’s
gone AWOL,” Corbin said.
“This could be
our lucky break. Let’s get back to the courtroom.”
Eddie Pierce
leaned against the podium. Sgt. Warner Russell sat in the witness box. He
wore an ornate dark-blue dress uniform with the standard piping, ribbons and
decorative buttons, as well as each of the medals he’d earned over the course
of his career. The uniform was freshly laundered and its seams were crisp.
Russell had already introduced himself and explained his background with the
department. He came across as professional, knowledgeable and reliable, which
was to be expected. An experienced officer knows exactly what to say on the
stand and how to say it. They know what they can get away with and they know
how to work with a prosecutor to make the story sound convincing. A talented
officer can make a case, even where the prosecutor isn’t very good. Russell
was a talented officer.
“Tell me about
November 21st of last year,” Pierce asked, waving his left hand theatrically.
His right hand remained jammed in his pocket.
“We was
observing a lot of identity theft during the prior few months, and we was doing
an investigation.” Russell spoke more to the jury than to Pierce. “Somebody
was opening lots of fake bank accounts all over the city, takin’ out credit
cards in people’s names, that sorta thing. On November 20th, we got an
anonymous tip that the defendant, Mr. Beaumont, was involved. So the next day,
me and my partner went to see him to find out what he knew.”
“Were you planning
to arrest Mr. Beaumont?” Pierce asked.
“No, we just
wanted to talk to him.”
“Did you find
Mr. Beaumont?”
“Yes, we did.”
“What happened
when you found him?”
“We drew our
sidearms and—”
“Wait a minute!”
Pierce interrupted, in a deeply-concerned voice. “I thought you just wanted to
talk to him?”
“We did,”
Russell responded, “but this guy has a history—”
“Objection,”
Beckett said, rising from his chair, as is customary when making an objection.
“Approach,”
Judge Sutherlin ordered authoritatively, but without emotion and without
looking up from the file he was marking up. Beckett and Corbin approached the
bench, as did Pierce and Morales.
“Your Honor,
he’s about to go into the criminal history. We discussed this,” Beckett said.
“Your Honor,”
Pierce responded, “we’re not introducing this to show any criminal history.
We’re introducing this merely to explain why Sgt. Russell pulled his gun before
entering the apartment.”
“Overruled, Mr.
Beckett, but I will instruct the jury accordingly,” Sutherlin advised.
The attorneys
returned to their respective sides.
Sutherlin looked
at the jury over the top of his glasses. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are about
to hear testimony that concerns actions Mr. Beaumont may or may not have taken
in the past. This testimony is being introduced for the sole purpose of
explaining why Sgt. Russell and the other officers took the actions they did.
That is the only purpose for which you may consider it. You may not consider
his prior actions, if any, toward his guilt in this matter.”
Pierce jammed
his right hand back into his pants pocket and checked off an item on his
notepad. He looked smug. “Sergeant, could you tell the jury why you drew your
gun.”
“Yeah, we was
aware Mr. Beaumont was arrested many times in the past for various—”
“Objection,”
Beckett barked.
“Sustained,”
Judge Sutherlin replied, without waiting for Pierce to respond. “There’s no need
to go into the reasons for any of the arrests, Mr. Pierce.”
“Yes, Your Honor,”
Pierce replied. He looked at Russell again. “You were aware of prior
arrests?”
“Yeah, we knew
about
several prior arrests
, and we understood he had a gun each time.
So we weren’t gonna take no chances with officer safety.”
“What did you
do?”
“We made sure
everybody wore a vest. We drew our sidearms when we approached the apartment.
We cleared the hallway of bystanders before we knocked. When Webb knocked—”
“Hold on a
second. You’re getting ahead of me, Sergeant,” Pierce said, faking a laugh.
“Who is Officer Webb?”
“Webb is my
partner this past year. He’s a rookie who joined the department a few months
before the arrest. He was assigned to me when my old partner retired for
medical reasons.”
“Officer Webb
knocked on Beaumont’s door?”
“Yes. Webb
knocked on the door. He also made the arrest.”
“Ok, before we
get to that, what happened when Officer Webb knocked?”
“Mr. Beaumont
opened the door.”
“Mr. Beaumont
opened the door,” Pierce repeated.
“He’s lying,”
Beaumont whispered loudly to Corbin. Corbin put his finger to his lips to tell
Beaumont to remain silent.
“Yeah, he opened
the door, and I could see he was holding a gun,” Russell testified.
“What did you do
then?”
“We followed our
training. Since he was armed and dangerous, we needed to disarm him. So we
forced our way into the apartment, forcing Mr. Beaumont to the floor, and
disarming him for everyone’s safety.”
“Did Mr.
Beaumont say anything at the time?”
“He was angry.
He kept insulting myself and the other officers. He threatened me with bodily
injury and he kept demanding I let him up and give him back his gun.”
“Why ain’t you
objecting? That’s hearsay?” Beaumont demanded of Beckett.
“It’s a
statement against interest; he can repeat whatever you said,” Corbin responded,
trying to leave Beckett free to concentrate on the testimony.
“But I did’n say
that. He’s lying,” Beaumont barked.
“That may be,
but we can’t object to that. Now shut up.”
Pierce picked up
a semi-automatic pistol from the prosecution table. The gun had seen better
days. It was black, but covered in scratches. The stock was wrapped in duct
tape. A small yellow evidence tag hung from the trigger guard.
“Have you ever
seen this weapon before?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where?”
“That was the
firearm I took from Mr. Beaumont.”
“You took this
gun from Mr. Beaumont on November 21st?” Pierce asked, holding the gun up for
the jury to see.
“Yes sir, I took
it from his hand.”
“What did you do
after you took the gun?”
“I handed the
firearm to the control officer, Officer Sanchez, and he placed it into an
evidence bag. Then I escorted Mr. Beaumont downstairs.”
“What was
Officer Webb doing, while you escorted Mr. Beaumont downstairs?” Pierce asked.
“He searched the
apartment.”
“What did he
find?”
Beckett shot out
of his chair. “Objection.” Judge Sutherlin looked at Beckett, but didn’t
speak, so Beckett continued. “He can only testify to what he personally
observed.”
“Sustained,”
Sutherlin said, before returning his attention to the file in his lap.
Pierce scowled
before he could catch himself. “Did you see what Officer Webb pulled from the
drawer?”
“Objection,
assumes facts not in evidence,” Beckett said.
“Sustained,”
Sutherlin replied. Until someone testifies that Webb actually pulled something
from the drawer, Russell could not describe anything Webb found as coming from
the drawer.
Pierce bit his
tongue. “Did you participate in the search with Officer Webb?”
“No.” This
meant Russell could not testify to what Webb may or may not have pulled from
the drawer because he didn’t actually see Webb pull anything from the drawer.
Pierce scratched
his head and pursed his lips. He took a deep breath. “Did you see what Webb
was holding after the search?” Pierce asked.
“Objection,
relevance,” Beckett said.
“Sustained.”
Without testimony that what Webb was holding came from the drawer or from
Beaumont’s person, whatever Webb held was not legally relevant to the question
of Beaumont’s guilt or innocence because it could not be linked to Beaumont.
In effect, Beckett had kept Pierce from introducing, through Russell’s
testimony, any evidence of what Webb found during his search. That meant the
account documents and bad checks were not yet in evidence. Webb would now be
the critical witness.
Pierce flipped
through his notes. He wasn’t happy.
Sutherlin became
impatient. “Counselor?”
“Can we have a
moment, Your Honor?” Pierce whispered furiously with Morales before returning
to the podium. “We have nothing further.”
Beckett tapped
his lips with his forefingers as he gathered his thoughts. The jury watched
him tensely. This was the first cross examination of the trial, and they
didn’t know what to expect; Hollywood had seen to that.
“Good morning,
Sgt. Russell,” Beckett offered without sincerity.
“Good morning,”
Russell mirrored Beckett’s tone.
“Sergeant,
you’ve seen Beaumont repeatedly over the years, correct?”
“Yeah, I saw him
a lot. . . year after year.”
“Did he ever
have hair?” This caused each of the jurors and even Judge Sutherlin to look at
Beaumont.
“No. Always
bald, just like today.”
“Were any wigs
found at his apartment?”
Russell
laughed. “Wigs?! No, Mr. Beckett, nobody found no wigs.”
“Is Beaumont
right handed or left handed?”
“Objection,”
Pierce barked. “Sgt. Russell would have no way to know,” Pierce stated, trying
to telegraph the appropriate answer to Russell. This is an old attorney trick.
“Your Honor, if
that’s correct, then Sgt. Russell can tell us,” Beckett responded.
“Overruled,”
Sutherlin ordered.
“I ain’t got no
way to know,” Russell responded condescendingly, after Beckett repeated the question.
“Did you see him
write anything?” Beckett asked.
“No.”
“Ok, let me get
at this another way. In what hand was he holding his gun?”
“His left hand,
but that don’t make him left handed.”
“Was he pointing
it at you?”
“No or he
probably would’a been shot. He was holding it down behind him, with his arm
running down the length of his body.” As he spoke, Russell pushed his left arm
down his side to demonstrate.
“Where was the
barrel of the gun pointing?”
“Down behind
him.”
“Let me see if
I’m following you. If he’s holding the gun like this,” Beckett said, stepping
to the right of the podium, closer to the jury, and mimicking Russell’s pose,
“then he would have shot behind his right leg if he’d pulled the trigger?”
“Into the floor behind
his right ankle, yes sir,” Russell said.
“Ok, got it. So
he was standing like this,” Beckett asked, as he turned to show his back to the
jury.
“Yeah, that’s
it,” Russell confirmed.
Beckett stepped
back to the podium and picked up the police report. “That’s consistent with
what you wrote in your report at the time?”
“Yeah, that’s
right.”
“How did you
know Beaumont would be at the apartment?” Beckett asked, changing direction.
“That’s where he
lives.”
“Does he have
another home?”
“No, this is
it.”
“Can you
describe the place?”
Russell
laughed. “Yeah, it’s a hole. I mean, it’s not a nice place. . . just a little
apartment on 16th and Franklin, in the projects.”
“Nicely
decorated?”
“Not by my
taste.”
“Can you
describe the decor?” Beckett asked. So far, there had been no intensity to any
of the questions.
Russell made a
sour face. “Dingy, brown paint peeling off the walls. Broke, ancient
appliances. There’s an old couch, a mattress on the floor, a nightstand with a
light on it.” Russell laid his contempt for Beaumont on thickly.
“Anything of
value in the apartment?”
“No. Just the
television and that looked pretty old.”
“Did you recover
any money from the apartment?”
“No, just a
couple dollars he had on him, that’s about it.”
Beckett’s tone suddenly
sharpened. “So you found no traces of the money he allegedly stole?”
Russell froze,
realizing what he’d admitted. If Beaumont had stolen as much money as they
claimed, why hadn’t they found any traces of it and why did he not appear to
own anything more than a rundown apartment? Russell took a deep breath and
reluctantly answered: “No, Mr. Beckett, we did not.”
“Is Officer Webb
still your partner?” Beckett picked up the pace of his questioning.
“No, he’s not.”
From his scowl, it was obvious Russell didn’t like the question.
“You remained
partners less than a year, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“Is that normal?”
“It happens.”
“Did you have a
falling out?”
“No.”
“Then why aren’t
you partners today?”
Russell’s face
turned red and he folded his arms. “You’d have to ask him.”
“We will. I
just wanted to hear your version first,” Beckett said, setting a trap for
Russell. If Russell remained silent, then whatever Webb said later would be
the only version presented to the jury. But if he responded, he ran the risk
of opening a can of worms Webb might never have opened. Still, Beckett’s use
of the word “version” left Russell little choice but to respond, as it
suggested to the jury that something unusual had happened between the two
officers.
“Sometimes it
just happens,” Russell replied, trying to evade the question. “People don’t
always get along. There ain’t nothing wrong about that.”
“Why didn’t you
two get along? Is there something the jury should know?” Beckett’s tone
suggested there was. This caused the jury to noticeably perk up.
“Not really,
he’s just a rookie.”
“What does that
mean?”