William Bernhardt - Capitol Offense

Ben moved forward, casting a quick glance back at his table. He could see that Christina was still confused. But she wasn’t frowning.

He could definitely see concern in Dennis’s eyes, though. Worry. He hoped the jury couldn’t see it, too.

“The district attorney wants you to believe that this case is a referendum on Detective Sentz. To the extent that he is interested in justice at all, he wants justice for Sentz, his representative of the thin blue line. But Detective Sentz is not the one on trial today. Neither is the police department. Dennis Thomas is on trial. This is a referendum on him. You will decide his future.”

Ben moved to the side, inviting the jury to give the defendant another look. “Mr. Guillerman has repeatedly attempted to demonize this man. It’s not good enough for him to simply say his trauma after the loss of his wife led him to take an extreme action. He wants you to believe he’s evil. He wants you to believe he has an explosive temper, based on the scantiest of evidence. He wants you to believe he’s dangerous. He wants you to believe he’s a wife beater, based on one minor incident, one Dennis readily admitted. He wants to transform a man suffering from the worst sort of grief imaginable into Hannibal Lecter, a cold-hearted, scheming, calculating killer.”

Ben gestured back toward his client. “This man is a literature professor. He specializes in the classics. The Iliad. The Odyssey . His students like him, because he goes the extra mile to help them with their problems. He was a loving husband and his wife returned his love. Yes, he has problems, as do we all. But he is a good person, and that did not change in the least until he was hurled into a maelstrom of the most nightmarish events. Days on end of frustration and fear, unable to find his wife, unable to obtain the slightest cooperation from the ‘thin blue line.’ I don’t know whether you think the police are to blame for what they did-or did not do-but this is a fact: their failure to act when they could have acted resulted in the death of Joslyn Thomas. How would you feel about that if it were your spouse in the car? Or your mother? Or you?”

Enough of this. Ben moved to the side, blocking off their view of the defendant, closing in to make his final points. “Yes, Dennis reacted to his wife’s death in an extreme fashion. Regardless of what you think happened in that hotel room, it is clear that he did things he should not have done. But that in and of itself proves that his brain was not functioning in a normal manner. He was behaving extraordinarily-like he had never acted before. That is not a strike against him, as my opponent would suggest. That is perhaps your greatest evidence that Dennis was acting under the influence of an altered mental state. That most delicate of balances had been utterly skewered.”

Ben paused, giving the jury a chance to register all he had said. “I also have sympathy for Detective Sentz. I’m sure we all do. But that is simply not the subject of this trial. That is a side matter the DA has introduced to distract you from your task at hand. This case is about Dennis Thomas. It is possible to have sympathy for both men-indeed, I don’t see how we cannot. But Dennis Thomas is the one on trial. One man has died already. Do we need another? Haven’t we had enough death result from this tragic, almost Shakespearean series of events? Isn’t this exactly when we as a society should have the courage to resist the temptation to pursue revenge and retribution? The Bible says, ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.’ Mr. Guillerman thinks the fact that temporary insanity allows a jury to grant mercy is a bad thing. I think it’s perhaps the one final element that allows us to retain some semblance of justice in the criminal justice system.”

Ben folded his hands, signaling the jury that he was coming to a close. “Like Mr. Guillerman, I urge you to fulfill your oath. You agreed that you would listen to the judge’s instructions and would apply them to this case. The judge will read those instructions to you in a few minutes and you will be able to take a copy back with you to the deliberation room. All of them are important, but two are paramount. One that says that in order to convict, you must find the defendant guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. If you find the degree of proof is anything less than that, you must acquit Dennis. It is not a choice. If you believe the case against him has not been proved, if doubts still linger in your mind, you must set this good man free and let him get on with his life. And if you believe that he was temporarily insane, you also must acquit him.”

Ben moved in closer. “Let’s be honest here. Dennis is not a criminal. These circumstances will never be repeated. He is no danger to society. Hasn’t there been enough death already?”

Ben held up his hands like trays on opposite ends of a scale. “Justice? Mercy? Or retribution. The choice is yours.”

Ben gazed at them one final time, making eye contact with each. Then he took his seat at the table.

The judge read his instructions to the jury, then cautioned them about what they could and could not do in the course of deliberation. Less than half an hour later, they were dismissed. The bailiff led them back to the main deliberation room, where they would remain for the foreseeable future.

After the court session was adjourned and the spectators were leaving, Christina tapped Ben on the sleeve. “Just so you know, I thought your closing was brilliant.”

He smiled a little. “Persuasive?”

She did not answer immediately. “Brilliant.”

Dennis swiveled around in his chair. His eyes seemed dark, tired. The strain of the trial was definitely showing on him. Probably on all of them.

“But was it enough?” Dennis asked, keeping his voice low so no one would hear. “Will they believe it?”

Ben did not immediately answer.

“I was watching their eyes, but I couldn’t tell what they were thinking.”

“We’ll talk about it when we get out of here.”

Dennis appeared surprised. “We’re leaving? Going back to the office?”

Ben began packing up his trial materials. “I think we should all go home. I have a feeling the jury is going to be out for a good long time.”

Loving did a double take. “Mike?”

“Yeah. You’re sure Ben isn’t lurking around somewhere?”

“He’s busy with the trial. What are you doing here?”

“Keep your voice down.” Mike glanced up the hill. It was a steep slope they had just rolled down, but there were still men in the driveway waiting for Dr. Sentz to return with the mysterious goods. “We don’t want to tip off those smugglers upstairs.”

“Do you know what’s goin’ on? What they’re doin’?”

“Don’t you?”

“Well…”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m tryin’ to find out who killed Christopher Sentz.”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“Ben doesn’t think so.”

“What else is new? Ben thinks all his clients are pure as driven snow. Even the cop killers.”

“Yeah, but I’m beginnin’ to think he may be right this time. Something weird was goin’ on at that hotel.”

Mike cocked his head slightly. “And you think that has something to do with the smuggling ring?”

“I know Peter Shaw is one of the goons up in that driveway. And he was also at the hotel that day.”

“Then the foxes were guarding the henhouse.” Mike paused a moment. “You know, that would explain a few questions I’ve had.”

“Why are you tracking smugglers, anyway? Isn’t homicide your beat?”

“There was a homicide. A man who died in the most grotesque manner.”

“Some kinda mutilation?”