On A Roll June 23, 2008

My most-recent trial was a Christmas Day burglary/shoplifting from a grocery store.

My client, “Mr. Stone”,  was a young African-American man with absolutely no record.  He was accused of going to a Food-4-Less on Christmas Day, entering despite the fact that they were closed, and walking out with a single bottle of Captain Morgan’s Parrot Bay coconut rum (or, as the prosecutor called it at one point, “Captain Rum”).

Video surveillance showed two unrelated men coming in 10 and 20 minutes before my client showed up.  The first was able to pry unlocked front doors open, walked around for a bit, and then left.  The second entered the opened doors to use the ATM!

When my client arrives, the front doors are wide open, the lights are on, and Christmas music is playing inside.  The store manager testified that there were signs on the doors saying the store was closed for Christmas Day, but when showed photos of the store on the day in question, he was completely unable to point out any such signs.  He was, however, able to describe a huge sign that said the store was open from 9am – midnight.

The persecutor proceeded to call two more store employees (neither of which had any probative testimony whatsoever) and four police officers, including a cadet, all of who gave stories that not only differed from one-another’s, but were internally inconsistent as well!  Just before the prosecutrix finally closed her case, the judge sarcastically asked her if she planned to call any more witnesses, noting that he had a copy of the city phone book with him.

From my point of view, the burg charge was incredibly weak, and the shoplifting was dubious.  So, my offer had alwas been an infracted shoplifting $100 fine and no probation.  This was consistently rejected.  Even the judge told us that an infraction offer was silly.

For the second time in a row, my client took the stand.  But, in a turn of events I never expected, he choked up and began to cry during my direct.  I knew it was sincere, but I was concerned that the jury would think he was faking.  The government’s cross was weak, and my client was well-prepared.  He didn’t hesitate to correct the prosecutor when she asked misleading questions.

I think I cared about Mr. Stone more than any other I’ve had so far.  We bonded.  So it was especially scary when the jury came back late in the afternoon.

I looked at their faces, trying to ferret out a hint of the verdict to come.  Many had slight smiles on their faces.  Were they embarassed?  Happy?  Was it schadenfreude?

Not guilty.

Two Resisting Arrest Victories in Two Weeks June 10, 2008

At first, I felt like I’d never make it out to trial – everything was getting infracted or dismissed…

The dismissal part hasn’t changed – I’ve had twelve dismissals so far this month. But the trials finally began rolling in.

In the past two weeks, I’ve been fortunate enough to have represented clients in two resisting arrest trials.

The first client, call him “Greek”, was a Native American man who had been pulled over in a podunk part of the already podunk county, allegedly for a cracked windshield. The case, as many a resisting arrest case, turned on the personality of the officer involved. In Greek’s case, the officer was a sergeant and watch commander, and extremely arrogant, even for a cop. On the stand, he testified that there was “no need” for him to interview the two eye-witnesses to the incident because, in his words, “they’re not a witness unless I say they’re a witness.” Additionally, the good sergeant was caught on the stand with what could euphamistically be called an “updated report”; that is, on the morning of trial, he added some inculpatory material to his original report and printed it out at 8:47 a.m. And, by the way, he “reviewed and approved” his own report – “no need” for a supervisor to review it.

Astonishingly, the jury hung 6-6. Thankfully, after I asked him, the judge dismissed the case permanently, finding that “no reasonable juror could ever vote for guilt.”

***

The second resisting arrest trial, which finished today, was a short affair. My client was “Tony,” a stoic young latino. On Tuesday, we burned through jury selection, openings, and all of the evidence. This morning, we argued the case, and the jury returned with a verdict just before noon.

During voir dire, I had a unique experience – I didn’t kick a single juror. The DA kicked two, but I think she realized she looked pretty silly when I kept saying “Defense accepts the panel as currently seated.” The judge later told me that the last time he’d had a defense attorney decline to challenge a single juror, it was the now-convicted-felon Stephen Yagman who, the judge noted, was a far-more experienced attorney than myself. The judge also commented that Yagman’s jury wound up hanging 6-6.

By the end of the trial, I was somewhat dubious, and my best guess was that we would hang in favor of guilt. The case centered around the issue of whether “Tony” knew, or reasonably should have known, that the officer was really a police officer. Of course, the officer testified that he never verbally identified himself, even after my client said “If you ain’t the sheriff, I don’t have to do shit!” I hammered this home in closing. Additionally, the prosecutor’s own witness said that the police officer “looked like a security guard,” and the officer himself testified that “there are security guards with uniforms almost identical to [his] own.”

Still, the cop testified that he showed up on the scene in standard short-sleeve police uniform, complete with all accoutrements.  A second cop came in and, after having a brief and completely inappropriate private conversation with the first cop, during which I caught them discussing uniforms, also testified that they were both in regular unforms.

And, for the first time in my short career, I put my client on the stand.  The trial had moved so fast that this was all happening in one day.  I was unprepared for his direct.  But, even better, the DA was totally unprepared for any cross-examination.  He kind-of dodged a bullet – I’ve seen pets undergo more-rigorous questioning.

The jury was out for 45 minutes.   I was discouraged that they were back so soon, thinking it meant they’d tanked my client.  I was truly shocked when the clerk read out “not guilty.”  I was, by far, more-emotional about it than my client, who remained stoic as always.  I was glowing for the next two days.