room.
“Oyez, oyez, oyez, this court in and for the county of Eagle is now in session, the Honorable Thomas Kuntz presiding,” the bailiff called.
Wearing a black robe, Judge Thomas Kuntz entered the courtroom from a door in front, stood behind the bench for a moment, then sat down.
“Be seated,” he said.
Kuntz picked up a gavel and banged it once. “This court is now in session. Mr. Bailiff, if you would, please, bring the jury into the courtroom.”
The bailiff left the room for a moment, then returned, leading the twelve men who were serving on the jury. They were a disparate group consisting of cowboys, farmers, store clerks, draymen, and businessmen. Quietly, they took their seats.
“Counsel for defense may now present closing arguments,” Kuntz said.
Tony Norton, the court-appointed attorney for Tyree, stood and looked at the jury for a moment before he approached the jury box.
“Gentlemen of the jury,” he said. “Mine is a very difficult task. I am duty bound to provide Mr. Tyree with the best defense I possibly can.” He looked back at Tyree. “It is difficult because Tyree is not a man whose character I can defend. Therefore, I will make no attempt to defend him by his character, but I can, and I will, defend him by the law.
“In order to find Jefferson Tyree guilty of the heinous crime of murdering the Poindexter family, you must be convinced, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he did it.” Norton looked over at Tyree.
“And while every instinct in your gut may tell you he is guilty, this is the United States of America. And in America we do not find guilt by gut instinct. We find guilt by evidence, and by eyewitness accounts.
“Gentlemen, the only evidence we have that connects Tyree with the Poindexter ranch is the fact that he sold fifty head of Poindexter’s cattle. He could have stolen those cattle from some remote corner of the Poindexter ranch without ever setting foot in the house, or even seeing any member of the family. Because the truth is, we have no physical evidence to put him in the Poindexter family home on that fateful day, and we have no witnesses who have testified that they saw him there.
“The prosecution,” he said, looking toward the prosecutor’s table, “has told us that young Cindy Poindexter lived long enough to give a description of the three men who attacked her family. One of the men she described as being short.”
Norton looked over at Tyree. “Mr. Tyree is short. But so are you, Mr. Blanton. And you, Mr. Dempster.” He was specifically referring to two of the men who were seated in the jury box. “And so are you, sir,” he said to a man in the gallery, “and, if you will excuse me, so is His Honor, the judge.
“She also said that he had a big nose.” Norton pointed toward the prosecutor. “So does Mr. Crader. For that matter, so do I.” Norton rubbed his own nose.
“Tragically, young Cindy Poindexter died of her wounds, so she is not here to be able to provide direct, eyewitness testimony. And without any physical evidence, and without eyewitness testimony, you cannot, by law, find my client, Mr. Tyree, guilty of murder.”
The prosecutor stood up then and stared for a long, pointed moment at Tyree. He stared for so long that the judge cleared his throat.
“Mr. Crader, are you going to honor us with your closing? Or must we somehow discern what you plan to say?” Judge Kuntz asked.
“Sorry, Your Honor,” Crader replied. He stepped over to the jury box, standing exactly where Norton had been standing but a few moments before.
“Tragically, young Cindy Poindexter died of her wounds,” Crader began. “These are the exact words that Mr. Norton used in his defense of this murderer. Tragically, she died, so she is not here to provide direct, eyewitness testimony.
“Gentlemen, Cindy may not be here in person, but she is here in spirit. With her dying breath, she gave the sheriff a description of the short, big-nosed man who seemed to be the leader. Tyree is a short, big-nosed man.
“‘There were three of them,’ Cindy said. And when Mr. MacCallister tracked Tyree down, there were three of them.
“I remind you also that Jefferson Tyree and two other men sold fifty head of cattle that bore the Poindexter brand. Perhaps this is circumstantial, and not direct physical evidence, but if you put the circumstantial evidence with the gut feeling that you know Tyree is guilty, you will not let young Cindy Poindexter’s last desperate attempt to bring about justice be unrewarded. Bring in the verdict that will allow the souls of Cindy and her family to rest in peace. Bring in the verdict that will allow us to hang this monster.”
“Damn right!” someone said from the gallery.
“Hang the son of a bitch!” another added.
Judge Kuntz brought his gavel down sharply. “Order,” he said.
Having finished his closing, and with the case now presented, the judge released the jury for their deliberation.
They were back within an hour.
“Mr. Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict?” Judge Kuntz asked the foreman.
“We have, Your Honor.”
Kuntz turned toward the defense table. “Would the defendant and attorney please stand?”
Norton and Tyree stood.
