Sergio De La Pava - A Naked Singularity

THE COURT: Counsel, I have heard your argument and repeating it doesn’t make it any better or stronger.

DEFENSE COUNSEL: I agree in that it couldn’t possibly be any stronger as it relies solely on the plain language of the applicable statutes.

THE COURT: I will instruct them as per the CJI only. Is there anything else anyone wants me to charge?

MR. McSLAPPAHAN: No. If I may briefly address, not to belabor the point. I object to the instruction that’s requested by counsel as far as the knowingly elements, and I believe that his instructions really requires the jurors or — require the defendant to have intricate knowledge of the law. It is the law, the definition as Your Honor instructs it to the jury. Not whether or not the defendant was ignorant of the law. And I think that’s what defense counsel is asking you to instruct them on. And I would object to the instruction that would say the defendant must knowingly be aware that a van is defined as a building.

DEFENSE COUNSEL: The DA repeatedly betrays no understanding whatsoever of my arguments.

THE COURT: Is there anything else?

MR. McSLAPPAHAN: Nothing further.

DEFENSE COUNSEL: You mentioned the CJI, I assume you will omit the discretionary part of the instruction that refers to remaining in the building.

THE COURT: I will instruct them fully.

DEFENSE COUNSEL: That wasn’t the People’s theory based on their opening. Moreover, under People versus Gaines—

THE COURT: Do you think I didn’t listen?

DEFENSE COUNSEL: That’s one possible explanation.

THE COURT: Why do you keep repeating?

DEFENSE COUNSEL: I’m hoping you’ll understand why—

THE COURT: I understand you have a great many beliefs. You’re making an argument. I have heard your argument and have ruled against you. The record is preserved. You don’t repeat it four times to preserve it. Once will do it. Is there anything further?

MR. McSLAPPAHAN: Nothing further your Honor.

THE COURT: Good then both counsel return at 2:15 to sum up.

(DIANE S. SALON)

“Thoughts?” I said as we made our way to Grinn’s office.

“I think she’s wrong,” Toom said. “If this truly is a case of first impression, as it appears to be, then it’s just pretty straightforward statutory construction. That said, I remain amazed that we haven’t been able to find a case or anything else on this issue. If you could cite her appropriate authority that would make a tremendous difference.”

“You think Toomie?” I said. “Insight like that I could get from my mother for Chrissakes.”

“I know I’m stating the obvious but what are you going to do?”

“What am I going to do? Good question. What is the individual to do in the face of pervasive negligent toxicity? So screwed, I’m so screwed. I just had the only possible defense to this case ripped away from me and I have to sum up in twenty minutes. I need to change her mind and if I can’t I need to argue it anyway without the instruction.”

“I don’t think she’ll like that at all after she told you what she thinks the state of the law is.”

“She’s a true idiot.”

“I’m quite certain she’ll shut you down if you try jury nullification.”

“Yup.”

“The other thing is, even if she gave you the instruction you’ve sought, with the testimony that the van had ladders on top of it and company lettering on the side aren’t you nonetheless in a very difficult position. In other words—”

“Those words are fine Toom, I know what you’re saying. Fucking court reporter. Bolo never said our lettering he said lettering. That’s it. I was listening like a bat. I swear the gods are fucking me from every angle Toom. Now where’s that hideous book.” We were in Grinn’s office and he was not. There was no green book. There was nothing in there. I had to check the nameplate outside the door to make sure it was still an occupied office. We were rifling through the office’s meager contents when Grinn appeared in the doorway.

“Can I help you gentlemen?”

“Conley says he lent you this book that has commentaries by a judge on criminal matters. Ring a bell? It’s green.”

“I don’t have any book by a Judge Green.”

“No the book itself is green. The judge’s name no one remembers. Seen it?”

“There’s no such book in here.”

“Are you sure?” said Toomberg. “Because it’s actually quite urgent that we find this book in the next eight minutes.”

“Are you calling me a liar? I assure you there is not a single law book in this office.”

“That I can believe. Let’s go, Toom,” and we split without book and without hope, although Toomberg’s genuine concern had temporarily revived my belief in the redeemability of man. He looked glum. “Don’t fret Toom,” I said. “I’m telling you, when I set out to accomplish something I do it. No excuses, no maybes. I have seven minutes. Mark my words, I will find that book and partake of its glorious jurisprudential fruit.”

But I didn’t. I went back into that courtroom unarmed and just summed up like a good boy. Hurtado was the picture of confidence the whole time as, despite repeated objections, I used every ounce of talent and ability I had to try and convince The Twelve to vote not guilty because there was insufficient proof the defendant knew the van was used for business purposes. Very unbecoming my desperation. I could feel it all slipping away. I wanted to go back in time, wanted to arraign the case anew. I should’ve sent investigators out to photograph that van before it was stolen for good so I would know the answers to questions I was later afraid to ask. I should’ve been looking for that book for six months not thirty-six hours. I should’ve drafted an entire memo on the issue rather than trust an idiot like Arronaugh to understand an oral application without pictures. Most of all, I should’ve gotten Hurtado to plead, even if I had to produce him for two weeks straight. Swathmore could’ve talked to him in furtherance, he was great at that. We had no business being on trial on this dog. Now it was hopeless.

Then the DA got up. He sounded like he had learned English an hour earlier. He argued there was ample evidence the defendant was in the van as if that in any way addressed the defense. He was horrible. God they always gave you hope. But even he wasn’t stupid enough to forget to repeatedly tell the jurors that the van had company lettering on it. Fucking court reporter.

But thus are miracles sometimes born and I went back to my office feeling better than I had in a while about my chances. I sat at my desk and waited. And waited. Nothing. I went to Conley’s office where Television was showing the Tula funeral, paid my respects, and came back. Nothing. Dane came in and we talked forever. Still nothing. Eventually it got to the point that I just wanted to hear something — anything. People were congratulating me on keeping them out so long but I didn’t care. I wanted it over with.

I just wanted sleep. Let the Dozen say what they wished, just say it already so I could go home and sleep. I loved sleep then. I was so ready. Although I was a little worried about what I would dream. “… there she is. She’s a beauty huh? A replacement for Tula I suppose. See that? That’s Grade A cow placenta we’re using. Only the best. That’s what they paid for, the best. They? The parents who else? You know who the parents are going to be? They’re waiting patiently outside the door. An eighty-year-old woman and her genetically engineered grandmother. Do you want to know what was inside that hole on Canal? Want to know why Dom took a header off that overpass?”

“That was pretty self-explanatory as I recall.”

“Do you want to see the flight though? Won’t take long. What else do you want to see? Just give me the word and it shall be yours to view. Do you want to know what’s going to happen. I can show you. We can skip ahead. You trust me?”