receivea written copy of the instructions I intend to give before we begin tomorrow. That should give both of you time to lodge any objections you may have.” Sutherlin looked at his watch. “They should be ready in the courtroom. If there’s nothing else, let’s pick a jury.”
The courtroom, like so many other courtrooms, overwhelmed people when they first entered and always caused them to speak in hushed tones. The judge’s bench dominated the front of the room and caused everyone to look up at the judge. To the judge’s left sat the witness box and then the jury box. Before the judge sat the court reporter and before the court reporter stood the podium where the attorneys would address the jury and the witnesses. The podium stood at an angle, pointed at the witness box. Court rules did not allow the attorneys to leave the podium without permission. The defense table and the prosecution table stood side-by-side, parallel to the judge’s bench, just after the podium. The defense table stood closer to the jury box, which ran perpendicular to the defense table and the judge’s bench. A small walkway was left between the jury box and the defense table and witness box so witnesses could get to the witness box to testify. Both the jury box and the witness box were elevated and were surrounded by three-foot-high wooden walls. The jury box contained two rows of eight chairs, with the back row elevated higher than the front row. Behind the prosecution and defense tables, another three- foot-high wooden wall ran the length of the room. A gate in the middle of that wall led to an aisle which ran to the main entrance, which consisted of two enormous doors approximately ten feet in height. To either side of the aisle were several row of wooden pews. All the wood was strong, dark mahogany, and hovering above everything, a decorative tin ceiling made the room feel cathedral-like.
The courtroom was empty as the group entered through the judge’s door behind the bench. Corbin, Beckett and Beaumont made their way to the defense table, where one of the three uniformed bailiffs unshackled Beaumont’s ankles and then his wrists. Unlike Beaumont’s purple pimp suit, Corbin wore a conservative dark-olive suit and a red tie over a white shirt. Beckett wore his dated gray suit, with the too-narrow lapels, a blue and silver striped tie, and a white dress shirt. Both his suit and shirt had been cleaned and pressed, but no amount of cleaning could hide their age. Neither Corbin nor Beckett gave any visible signs of being nervous.
Pierce wasn’t nervous either. Courtrooms were his natural environment and he was all smiles. Morales, however, was nervous, and it showed. She kept tapping her pen furiously against her notepad and looking over her shoulder whenever anyone entered the room. She also kept smoothing out the sleeves and pants of her deep-red suit. Beckett watched her.
Once Beaumont was seated, the clerk allowed the gathering crowd of about fifty people to enter the back of the courtroom. Many of these were potential jurors. Others were witnesses, reporters, and a few people who came to watch. Whenever a trial gets significant local media coverage, curious members of the public always show up.
As Judge Sutherlin entered the courtroom, the bailiff ordered everyone to rise. “Be seated,” Sutherlin commanded in his strong, compelling voice. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. We are dealing with the People versus Washington Beaumont. Those of you who were summoned as witnesses, I ask you to now follow the bailiff at the back of the room. He will take you across the hall where you can wait until you’re called.”
Several people left the courtroom.
“Those of you from the media, I remind you that I do not allow cameras or other recording equipment in my courtroom.” Several audible clicks followed. “If you were called as a potential juror, here’s what’s going to happen. My clerk will start calling names at random. As she calls your name, come sit in the jury box. If you are not called, then you should return downstairs to the court clerk’s office as they may need you for another trial. When the box is full, the attorneys will ask you some questions. If the answer is ‘yes’ to any of their questions, raise your hand and keep your hand up until we get to you. If you are dismissed, then return to the clerk’s office.” Sutherlin motioned to his clerk. “Let’s get started.”
It took an hour to pick the jury: two women and four men. Each of the potential jurors had heard about the case on the news, but each also claimed not to have made up their mind about Beaumont’s guilt, which was enough to keep them from being struck for cause. The judge did dismiss two potential jurors who had been victims of identity theft and one woman who admitted believing that the police “wouldn’t arrest anyone who wasn’t guilty of something.” He refused to strike a man who said he didn’t trust the police, because the man also said he would listen fairly to individual police officers; Pierce eventually struck him with one of his three peremptory strikes. Pierce also struck a young construction worker and a Catholic priest. Beckett intended to strike the construction worker, but was fortunate Pierce struck him first. That left Beckett free to strike someone else. He eventually struck a librarian, the wife of a retired policeman, and a car salesman who planned to run for the state senate. The remaining six jurors and one alternate seemed rather bland and their backgrounds gave no hint how they might vote.
With the jury chosen, opening statements began. Eddie Pierce made his way to the podium, keeping his right hand in the pocket of his charcoal-gray pants. His left hand held his notepad. His blue and gold tie contrasted nicely against his starched white shirt and dark suit. A gold ring with a square-cut diamond was visible on his pinky. When he reached the podium, he set down his notes and pulled a pen from his shirt pocket. He flipped the page in his notepad before turning his eyes toward the jury. A smile was fixed on his face.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Eddie Pierce. I’m the District Attorney. Sitting behind me is Assistant District Attorney Hillary Morales. On behalf of the people of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, I thank you for being here today. Being a juror is a civic duty that goes back all the way to ancient Rome, if not further. Today, you become part of that history. There is nothing more important to our way of life than the service you are about to give. You are the eyes and ears of the people. You watch over the system to make sure the guilty are punished, that victims receive justice, and that our society remains free and safe. You are the guardians for us all.”
Pierce exhaled melodramatically.
“We’re here today because a horrible crime has been committed, a crime you will hear about over the next couple days. This crime involves an invasion of privacy. This crime disrupted numerous lives and will continue to disrupt lives for years to come. This crime hurt us all. Even those of us who were not victimized directly still pay in insecurity and in the extra costs charged to make up for what crimes like this steal from hard-working people. The crime we are talking about is identity theft and fraud.” Pierce pointed at Beaumont. “Sitting to my right is Mr. Washington Davis Beaumont. Mr. Beaumont committed the crime you are here to judge.”
Each member of the jury looked at Beaumont. They showed no emotion.
“Mr. Beaumont stole the identities of fifty-three people. Using those identities, he stole $2.2 million, and he left those fifty-three people. . and the rest of us, to pick up the tab.”
Pierce shuffled his notes.
“So how do we know Mr. Beaumont is guilty? That’s always the question for the state. How do you show a man is guilty of a crime of which he stands accused? In this case, Mr. Beaumont made it easy. Mr. Beaumont laid it all out for us to follow. You will hear about his arrest from Sgt. Warner Russell, a fifteen year veteran of the department, and his partner, rookie Officer Paul Webb. You’ll hear Officer Webb describe how he searched the nightstand next to Mr. Beaumont after the arrest. You’ll hear how Officer Webb found stacks of documents, documents you will see. These documents belong to the credit card accounts and bank accounts Mr. Beaumont stole. That’s been stipulated to; the defense isn’t even trying to deny that evidence!”
Pierce let his words sink in before continuing.
“You’ll hear from Maggie Smith, a bank manager, who unknowingly helped Mr. Beaumont set up a fake bank account at Penn Bancorp. You’ll hear from Natasha Freet, a teller, who can place Beaumont at First Regional Bank, where he opened another fake account. And you’ll hear from Dr. Ben Trainder, a handwriting expert, who will tell you that Mr. Beaumont’s signature appears all over the documents used to open these accounts.”
Pierce folded his arms and stepped back from the podium. The jury remained motionless, but were attentive. Some looked down, but most followed Pierce with their eyes. The young woman on the end kept sneaking peeks at Beaumont.
“The defense will tell you, ‘this is a victimless crime, nobody got hurt’. . garbage! Sgt. Russell will sit in that very chair,” Pierce pointed to the empty witness box, “and tell you how he disarmed Mr. Beaumont when he arrested him. Mr. Beaumont had a gun, ladies and gentlemen, a gun! Why did he have a gun? We don’t know. We don’t know what he planned to do if he hadn’t been stopped. But it doesn’t matter, because you don’t need to decide that. Possession of a firearm is a serious crime in this city, no matter what he planned to do with it. . but it makes you wonder.”
Pierce returned to the podium and jammed his right hand back into his pocket. He tapped the index finger of
