David Kessler - No Way Out

“You didn’t say anything about co-counsel… nothing personal Miss Phoenix.”

“Oh, please, call me Andi,” she said, in a re-assuring tone that was clearly calculated to put him at ease.

She held out her hand warmly. Claymore hesitated before reaching out to shake it. Alex watched as they shook hands weakly. Then he held out his own hand, not to shake but to indicate a waiting seat. Claymore sat down, not taking his eyes off Andi. Andi followed suit, leaving Alex last to take his seat round the table.

“The first thing we need to talk about,” Alex began, “is a change of venue.”

“Why?”

“Perhaps I can explain,” said Andi.

She looked at Alex. He nodded.

“According to the latest stats, Ventura County has just under 700,00 °Caucasians and 17,000 African-Americans. That makes the state 2.1 percent Black and 87.5 percent White.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I’m probably more unpopular with my own people at the moment.”

“I doubt that,” said Andi. “We’re talking about ultra-conservative Whites.”

Claymore tried to sound jovial.

“Well, hey… I’m a conservative!”

“I know Mr. Claymore and that might have worked if it was a minor charge. But this is rape and a lot of your natural supporters have already turned against you right now.”

“You’ve done an opinion poll?”

He grinned, desperately, trying to make light of the situation. Andi maintained her neutral face.

“We’re keeping an ear to the ground… and those are the vibes we’re getting.”

Claymore looked over at Alex, who nodded imperceptibly, content to let Andi earn her keep.

“In any case,” Andi continued. “We’re know from the stats that Ventura juries tend to be convicting juries.”

“What about Hispanics?” asked Claymore.

“Hispanics can be any race and they’re included in the black and white stats. But we have a separate figure of 287,000 Hispanic and Latino citizens. Of those, 272,000 are classified as White Hispanic. There are also some 50,000 Asian citizens who are likely to be hostile to working class blacks, but might admire you and a further 17,000 of mixed race who may be a bit more friendly. But those two groups combined are less than ten percent of the population.”

Claymore looked crestfallen.

“And what do we need? If we had the ideal choice.”

Andi was about to speak when Alex finally entered the discussion.

“Ideally, we’d have a jury of liberal whites.” He was going to elaborate on his reasons, but held back, realizing that it would sound just a little too cynical.

“So what can we do?”

Alex and Andi exchanged glances. In the end it was Andi who spoke.

“In the real world, the outcome of one controversial case can often have a knock-on effect on the next. In the O J Simpson case, the acquittal of the cops who viciously beat Rodney King was still fresh in the minds of the jurors. The truth of the matter is that a case that may be cast iron and watertight in the courtroom can fall apart in the jury room.”

“So are there any recent cases we can take advantage of?” asked Claymore. The cynical words fell uneasily from his lips.

“Unfortunately not. In this case, the key to winning was getting the right jury,” said Andi. “And that means holding the trial in the right district and then using challenges to prune and cherry pick the jury. Sometimes that might be as simple as getting a jury of the right ethnic group. In the O J Simpson case, the defense were able to get a predominantly African-American jury. In the Rodney King case it was an all-white one in Simi valley where a lot of cops lived.”

“And can we do that?”

Again Andi looked at Alex. Again he nodded to let her know that he was content to let her speak.

“In this case it’s a little more complicated. Even if we can get an all-black jury, it’s by no means certain that such a jury would favor you. Like you said, a lot of blacks have been alienated by your outspoken views.”

After a while, Claymore broke the silence.

“Could I ask a personal question Miss Phoenix? Did you volunteer for this job?”

Alex felt a stab of fear, wondering if Andi’s answer was going to be tactful or brutally honest. But whatever it was to be, he knew that he couldn’t interfere now.

“That’s not a personal question,” she replied with a reassuring smile. Claymore was watching her closely. “I…”

She looked at Alex. But his face offered her no hint of assistance. “I was asked by Mr. Sedaka to help, and I agreed. Alex was… most convincing.”

Alex coughed nervously. In front of him were several copies of the evidence report, at this stage a mere dozen pages stapled together.

“OK, I think we’d better get a move on. We’re working on some research for the change of venue motion, but in the meantime we need to review the evidence.”

He handed copies of the report to Andi and Claymore.

“The case against you appears to be made up of the following. One: a statement of the alleged victim including the second of two photo line-ups. Two: a medical report about the victim’s physical condition right after she reported the incident. Three: police photographic evidence of same. Four, a DNA comparison between crime-scene DNA and reference samples taken from you and the alleged victim. Five: eye-witness evidence after the alleged rape that you were seen running from the crime scene. Six: your arrest record — six counts of rape. We may be able to block that, depending on how we want to fight the case, but in practice it was so high profile, every member of the jury is going to know about it long before they enter the courtroom.”

“I don’t know where they got this stuff,” said Claymore shaking his head, “I mean all that other stuff.”

“Some of it’s easy enough to demolish,” said Alex. “The witness who saw you running away is weak. But the real problem is the DNA and the medical and photographic evidence. The visible injuries to the girl make it hard to argue consent and the DNA makes it equally hard to deny that a sexual encounter took place.”

“I don’t understand how they could’ve got DNA evidence.”

“How do you mean?” asked Andi, suspicion creeping into her tone.

“I never touched her. I’ve never even met her.”

“All right,” said Alex. “We’ll go into that in a moment. But first let me make one thing clear: we can argue that the sex was rough but consensual or we can argue DNA contamination and see if we can come up with anything. But not both. We have to nail our colors to the mast quite early. In effect you’ve already committed us to saying that it’s mistaken identity because of what you told the police. Technically we can still change your story, but it won’t look good.”

“But why should I change it? I never even met the bit…”

For a few seconds they all avoided each other’s eyes as they realized what Claymore had been about to say.

“There goes Uncle Tom.”

There was mocking laughter and jeering as Elias Claymore shuffled his way to the end of the table.

“Watch where you’re sitting!” snarled the man next to him, as Claymore barely brushed against him when he sat.

Claymore tried to ignore the taunts. But when he raised the food to his mouth, he felt a sharp elbow in the rib cage, making him drop it. He knew that this was the test. If he showed weakness now, they would make his life a living hell. He had to stand up to the bullies before they saw him as easy prey.

“Look cut it out!” he shouted, leaping to his feet and turning to face his attacker.