Laura Caldwell: Claim of Innocence

“Given your husband’s job,” I said, “do you believe you would be able to stay fair and impartial throughout the trial?”

“Of course,” she said, clearly annoyed. Exactly what I wanted.

“It could be days, even weeks, until Valerie Solara will be able to present her own evidence. Will you be able to wait until you hear all the evidence before you decide whether the state has proven their case beyond a reasonable doubt?”

“Yeah.” She crossed her arms and glared. She struck me as someone who wanted to be on the jury for the sake of being able to say so to her friends.

“Do you have children, Ms. Marshall?”

She shook her head.

“You’ll have to answer out loud for the court reporter, ma’am.”

“No,” she said loudly.

“Have you ever seen your husband testify in any cases?”

Now her face lightened. “Yes.”

“And have you ever encountered a situation where your husband testified in a case where the defendant was not guilty of the crime of which they were accused?”

“Oh, no,” she said immediately. “He wouldn’t.”

“Why is that?”

“Because he’s a policeman.”

“And police officers know who is guilty.”

“Right.”

“Is there a situation you could imagine where a police officer might testify and that person might end up being innocent?”

“No.”

I had her. I didn’t want to look triumphant in front of the whole jury, so I asked a few more questions, all benign, before I turned to Judge Bates. “Your Honor, I’d request that Ms. Marshall be excused from the jury for cause.”

He nodded. “So granted.”

Judge Bates looked at the jury. “Ms. Marshall, we thank you for being here today. You may leave.” He nodded at the sheriff to show her the way out. “Continue, Ms. McNeil.”

I picked out a thirtyish guy with hair flattened to his head in a way that was technically stylish but not on him, and who had been staring at my legs since I’d been in front of him. “Mr. Heaton.”

He raised his eyebrows in a suggestive kind of way.

I asked a couple of questions, enough to see that this guy would say yes to whatever I wanted. I thanked him and wrote W on the questionnaire, my shorthand for I-want-this-one-on-my-jury.

I turned to the woman next to him and questioned her, then another.

During the process of voie dire, you needed to not only pick out the jurors you wanted dismissed, but also win over the jurors you wanted to keep. You had to chat and crack a couple of jokes and respond to the judge and read one juror’s face while you read another’s body language out of the corner of your eye and keep your ears open for a C’mere a sec from your cocounsel—and you had to do this all at the same time and make it look smooth. I loved voie dire.

By the time I was done with the panel of jurors, I felt great. I walked toward the table and saw Maggie give me a pleased nod.

I glanced at Ellie Whelan, who regarded me for a second before she returned her gaze to the questionnaires in front of her. If I was correct, her eyes had held grudging respect.

I sat next to Maggie. “I want to do it again.”

M aggie let me handle two more panels of jurors before she took over, but the judge kept the jury questioning surprisingly quick compared to civil court. Once the jury was sworn in, the judge gave them directions about reporting for duty the next day. Then they were dismissed.

Maggie, Valerie and I went into the order room where Martin Bristol had been that morning. We sat at the same table. Valerie looked more shaken than earlier. “It’s really happening,” she said.

Maggie nodded but didn’t appear worried. I was sure she’d heard such sentiments from other clients before.

Just then, Maggie’s phone buzzed. She grabbed it from her pocket and looked at it. “It’s my mom. She never calls when I’m on trial. It must be about my grandfather.”

Valerie’s eyes closed at the mention of Martin Bristol.

Maggie left the room and shot me a look over her shoulder. Take charge.

I turned to Valerie and put on my best lawyer face. “So Valerie, let’s talk a little bit and let me explain why I’m here.”

She nodded fast and looked into my eyes, clearly wanting to be reassured.

“As you apparently saw this morning, Marty is feeling ill. He’s never really shown his age, but he is in his seventies.”

Valerie gave a short shake of her head. “But he doesn’t seem old.”

“You’re right.”

“He came to me so certain we would win. He believed me, and I found myself trusting him, which is unlike me.” Her small, dark-skinned hands flew to her face again, and she looked as if she might cry. “He promised to win my case.”

I sensed she wanted to say something else, so I remained silent.

“And now…” She looked at me, then her eyes darted to the door, and I could almost hear her words. Now, I have you two.

I leaned forward, my hands on the table, wide apart. “Valerie, I’ll ask you to do something right now. Please don’t underestimate either Maggie or myself. Maggie is one of the best criminal defense lawyers in the city, and in large part that’s because she was trained by her grandfather. I’ve also done a lot of trial work. We are both much more experienced than we look. And—well, I was thinking about this during jury selection—frankly, I think it gives a good impression for two women to represent you on this particular case.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re accused of killing your friend.” I sat there and let the words sink into the room, as much for Valerie as myself. I was sure that Maggie and Martin had engaged in numerous conversations with Valerie before, but now that I was one of her attorneys, we needed to have an honest discussion ourselves. “Anyone would want Martin Bristol on their case. But I have to tell you, it’s not bad that you now have two young women whom the jury may see as the friends we are, representing you when you are accused of killing your friend.”

She said nothing, a look of concentration settling into her face.

“Our presence tells the jury we believe you.” I didn’t mention that Maggie had told me many times that she didn’t always believe her clients; she didn’t need to.

Valerie took in a large breath, seeming to gather strength from somewhere inside her. Her eyes softened. “I’m glad you are here. I thank you for it. And yes, I understand what you are saying. By the way…” She paused. “I did not kill Amanda.”

I nodded. “Maggie told me you’ve said that.”

Her mouth pursed. “I want you to believe me.”

I nodded. I wanted that, too. “Look, I don’t try criminal cases often, but the fact that I’m not usually a criminal lawyer is a benefit to you because I bring other things to the table.” I thought about it. “Maybe when we’re outside the courthouse, you and I could talk about what happened. Maybe if I hear everything from you, I could see other avenues for this case.”

I would have to see if Maggie was all right with that. Maggie had always said she didn’t need to have that kind of discussion with the clients, and maybe there was a little bit of protecting herself from hearing too much. But now that I was back in the law, I didn’t want protection from it. I wanted to be hit with it.

“Okay.” Valerie’s eyes looked deeply into mine, and I thought I could read a message there. Thank you.

Suddenly, I remembered something that pleased me about being a being a lawyer. It wasn’t just the excitement of a trial. I liked helping someone who truly needed it. I liked finding solutions that a person wouldn’t be able to reach themselves.

“Do you have any restriction for your bail?” I asked Valerie.