“Your Honor,” Hayes corrected.
“Defense?”
Dempster stood. “Your Honor, I call Matt Jensen to testify in his own behalf.”
Matt was sworn in, then took a chair.
Matt testified for himself, explaining how Gillis had confronted him with a demand for five dollars for a visitors tax.
“I didn’t know anything about the tax. I’d never heard of a visitors tax, not in this town or any town I’ve ever visited. So, it was my intention to just ride on out of town,” Matt said. “But the deputy wouldn’t let me. He said that just by being here, I was already a visitor.”
“What he said was correct,” Cummins said, interrupting Matt’s testimony. “And, as the deputy, he had every right to collect five dollars from you. The five dollars is to pay for law enforcement.”
“There’s nothing right about that,” Matt said.
“Uh-huh, and so, since you didn’t agree with him, you shot him, is that it? You shot him down in cold blood,” Hayes said.
“Your Honor, I object,” Dempster said. “It is not yet redirect.”
“I’m going to allow the question.”
“It wasn’t even a question, it was an interruption. I haven’t turned the witness over to him yet,” Dempster complained.
“We’re after the truth here, Counselor, no matter what technique we use to get it. I am going to allow the question. Answer it, Jensen.”
“No, sir, I did not shoot him down in cold blood. He drew on me first. I was faster, and when I shot him, his gun somehow just slipped back into his holster.”
Nearly everyone in the saloon laughed.
“It is the truth, I swear it,” Matt said.
“Mister,” Hayes replied. “There ain’t no one person in all of Arizona who is faster than Moe Gillis was.”
“I am,” Matt said simply.
“I have no more questions, Your Honor,” Dempster said.
“All right. Give your closing arguments.”
Dempster held up his finger, then walked back to the table where he had left the coffee. He poured himself another cup, then drank it, before he returned to address the jury.
“You have heard the defendant say that Gillis drew on him first,” he said. “And since Mr. Jensen is the only eyewitness to the actual confrontation, his testimony should have some weight. We all knew Gillis, we all knew what a hothead he was, and we all know that it would not be out of character for him to draw first, especially if he thought he was right to defend some law, such as collecting a five dollar visitors tax fee. But you have the perception that Mr. Jensen drew first, because the pistol was still in Gillis’s holster.
“Perception,” he repeated.
Dempster held up a finger. “I would like to remind you that, according to the law, you can only find my client guilty if you are convinced, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he is guilty. You cannot find him guilty based upon a
“In addition to this, I would like to point this out to you. If you find him guilty as charged, there is an excellent chance that the sentence will be overturned on appeal, based upon all the irregularities in this trial.”
Dempster held up a finger. “One, there could be a real question as to Andrew Cummins’ authority to try this case, seeing as he acted as the arresting officer. There is no precedence for the arresting officer to also act as judge.
“Two, the Constitution of the United States guarantees every man a competent lawyer to act as his defense. All of you know me. I am a trained lawyer, that is true, but I am also a drunk and I was only given fifteen minutes to prepare for this case.
“And finally, I was given no opportunity for voir dire. I believe this jury to be incapable of rendering a fair decision, based upon the fact that you were all present at the time of the incident.
“I ask that you find Mr. Jensen not guilty.”
“Ha!” one of the jurors said. “There ain’t a chance in hell we’re goin’ to do that.”
Everyone in the saloon laughed.
Cummins banged his revolver on the table. “Order,” he called. He looked over at Hayes. “Mr. Hayes, your summation.”
“What?”
“It’s your turn to talk to the jury, to wrap up your case.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” Hayes said. He cleared his throat and looked over toward the jury. For a long moment, he said nothing, then he pointed to Matt.
“This son of a bitch is guilty,” he said. “You know it and I know it, and I say, let’s hang the bastard.” He sat down, again to the laughter and cheers of those assembled.
“It’s time now to poll the jury,” Cummins said. He looked at the twelve men who had been selected by the bartender.
