Randy Singer - The Justice Game

Jason arrived at his cottage well past midnight, so tired he could barely move. He took off his shoes, threw his suit coat, shirt, and tie on a chair, and sat down on the couch in front of the TV. He flipped from one channel to the next, anything to distract his mind from the case. Before long he had curled up on the couch and fallen asleep with the remote in his hand, the channel stuck on a late-night talk show.

A few hours later, his neck stiff from being propped against a pillow on the armrest, Jason woke up. Instinctively, before he staggered up to bed, he checked his BlackBerry. The e-mail jolted him awake: Slow the trial down. Don’t put Poole on the stand until Monday. Keep up the good work. Your secrets are safe with me. Luthor

Robert Sherwood arrived at work early on Thursday, content in the knowledge that the three mock juries hearing the Crawford case would start their day, as they had the day before, precisely at 7:00 a.m. The case was proceeding beautifully on all fronts except for the timing. Trials moved fast in the Virginia Beach Circuit Court. Maybe a little too fast.

If they worked from 7 a.m. until about 10 at night, Sherwood figured his trial team should be able to complete the truncated version of the Crawford case that evening. All three mock juries would return a verdict by midnight.

On Friday, Justice Inc. would make its move in the stock market. That would leave the weekend to meet with the various hedge fund managers who would in turn make their market moves on Monday. The actual verdict in the Crawford case would not come back until late Monday afternoon at the earliest. Most probably it would be Tuesday or Wednesday.

The timing could work, but it was tight. There was no margin for error.

The pro-gun demonstrators had shown up in droves outside the courtroom on the first day of trial, but their numbers had dwindled by day two. They would probably be back tenfold for closing arguments, but unlike the colorful parade of characters who protested G8 summits, these folks had real jobs. Protesting was just a hobby. Plus, the forecasters were saying the temperature could reach a hundred degrees by early afternoon.

The jury wasn’t ushered into the box until nearly 10 a.m., a full hour later than Judge Garrison had wanted to start. He apologized to the jury, told them that he and the lawyers had been working on a few housekeeping matters (Jason and Kelly had argued for an hour over Jason’s objections to certain portions of the Beeson deposition), and thanked the jurors for their patience.

The jury began the day watching the videotaped deposition testimony of Jarrod Beeson. The felonious gunrunner came across every bit as disreputable on the screen as he had in person. His dark eyes darted back and forth from the camera to Kelly, and his facial expressions alternated between a smirk and a sneer. He had about three days’ worth of facial hair and wore an orange jumpsuit.

Despite the man’s obvious status as a prison inmate, the jury watched carefully, and several members took notes.

Beeson admitted that he had purchased a total of twenty-three guns from Peninsula Arms. Most of the guns he resold at a profit to convicted felons who weren’t eligible to buy the guns outright. Sometimes he filed off the serial number first; sometimes he didn’t. Two of the guns he purchased had been traced to crimes.

Judge Garrison had sustained Jason’s hearsay objections to the portions of the deposition describing the alleged phone call between Larry Jamison and Beeson. But that didn’t prohibit Beeson from talking about the way he purchased the gun.

On the video, Beeson explained that he and Jamison had arranged to meet at Peninsula Arms. It was Larry Jamison who talked to the sales clerk and checked out various guns while Beeson watched. Once Jamison had settled on the MD-9, the two men went outside the store, and money changed hands. Beeson returned to the store, filled out the paperwork, and gave the clerk the money. He then carried the gun out to the parking lot and handed it to Jamison. He never saw Jamison again.

Jason’s videotaped cross-examination followed. He had focused on Beeson’s lack of connection with MD Firearms. Beeson had bought and resold all kinds of guns, from several different gun stores, and it just so happened that this particular gun was manufactured by MD Firearms. Plus, Beeson was an admitted liar-he had lied at least twenty-three separate times, on twenty-three separate forms, all signed under oath and under penalty of jail time for dishonesty.

But as Jason watched the jury, it seemed that they believed every word Beeson said. His confession had earned him twelve months in a federal pen. Why would he make it up?

Kelly followed Beeson’s testimony by calling Lisa Roberts, WDXR’s photogenic news anchor, to the stand. In Jason’s opinion, the witness tried way too hard, milking her time on national TV for everything it was worth. She broke down crying at least twice and used all kinds of animated facial expressions and hand gestures in talking to the jury. Jason could read the frustration on Kelly’s face as she tried to rein in the witness.

Lisa had not exactly played the role of hero on the day Larry Jamison had walked into the studio, so she worked hard to recast events in a more favorable light. But a few things were undeniable. She had ratted out the show’s director, Bob Thomas, when he was hiding. Later, she had refused to stick up for Rachel Crawford’s innocence. Granted, she had the business end of the MD-9 pointed at her face, but the jury still seemed to dislike her, folding their arms in stone-faced disapproval as she tried her best to charm them.

The irony of a jury trial, thought Jason. They believe the felon. But they don’t like the innocent news anchor.

After Lisa Roberts’s direct examination, Jason announced he had no questions for cross and thought he noticed some disappointed looks from the jury box. “Oh, wait,” he said, “I do have one question.”

Lisa had already climbed halfway out of the witness box, and Jason waited for her to sit back down.

“Are you going to sue MD Firearms too?”

“Objection,” said Kelly Starling. “That’s not relevant here.”

“Goes to bias, Your Honor,” Jason said calmly.

“Overruled.”

The witness stared at Jason for a moment. He knew that MD Firearms had already received a letter from her lawyer.

“Depends on how this case turns out,” Lisa said.

“I see,” Jason said. And he hoped the jury did as well. The slippery slope- Where would it all stop? “So you’re thinking about suing even though you weren’t actually shot by Jamison, am I right?”

“Objection!”

Jason held up his hands. “She’s right, Your Honor. That was two questions. I promised the jury just one. I’ll withdraw it.”

The parade of witnesses continued throughout the morning and into the early afternoon. The WDXR station manager testified about how much potential Rachel had demonstrated as a reporter. The medical examiner certified the cause of death. Kelly even trotted two Peninsula Arms clerks and the store owner to the stand and forced them to plead the Fifth Amendment in front of the jury.

Then Kelly called Case McAllister and asked him just enough questions to lay a foundation for the memo he had written to Melissa Davids. Just to preserve the record, Jason objected to the memo on the basis of the attorney-client privilege. Judge Garrison overruled the objection again, stating that Melissa Davids had waived that privilege when she shared the document with others.

Jason had no questions for Case at this time. He planned to call Case to the stand when it was his turn to put on witnesses, unless Melissa Davids did so well that Case was not necessary. In either event, Jason would save his questions until later in the trial.