On A Roll

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.