his left hand against his lips.
“There’s more to cover, but I think we’ve said enough for now. The facts of this case are straight forward, no matter what the defense may tell you.” He paused. “And if it sounds like I’m blaming them, I’m not. It’s their job to create as much confusion as possible, to try to create doubt where none exists. But it’s your duty to focus on the facts, just the cold hard facts. When you do, you will understand why Mr. Beaumont sits before you today. Thank you for your time.” Pierce grabbed his notes and returned to his seat.
Sutherlin looked at Beckett. “You’re up, Counselor.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Beckett walked to the podium. Unlike Pierce, Beckett appeared rather disheveled, with his old suit, his unkempt hair, and his notepad from which dozens of colored stickies stuck out on either side. Interestingly however, all of this, combined with the more sincere-sounding emotion in Beckett’s voice, gave the impression of earnestness, rather than disarray, though it was a fine line.
“‘Focus on the facts, the cold hard facts.’ That’s exactly right. And what will you see if you focus on those facts? You’ll see a house of cards, ladies and gentlemen. You’ll see a prosecution case built on innuendo and suggestion rather than fact.”
Beckett paused.
“The prosecutors want you to believe Beaumont stole $2.2 million. Yet they can’t show any evidence that Beaumont, a man living in a run down tenement on the Southside, ever had that kind of money. Indeed, there’s no evidence he ever had any money.” Beckett called him “Beaumont” without the “Mr.” honorific to humanize him. He normally would have called him by his first name, but Beaumont objected to being called “Washington.”
“They’re going to tell you he’s a horrible man, but we don’t convict people of crimes they didn’t commit just because we don’t like them. And the fact the prosecution is asking you to do exactly that tells you everything you need to know about their cold hard facts.”
Beckett flipped the page of his notepad.
“The prosecution needs to show you that Beaumont opened checking accounts and credit cards in the names of fifty-three real people, but they’re only going to talk about two people, two accounts. Why? As you hear the testimony, ask yourself: why doesn’t the prosecution bring any witnesses to link Beaumont to any of these other mystery accounts? Why are there no videos showing him opening these accounts? Where are the witnesses?”
Beckett paused to let the jury consider his point.
“And what about these two accounts? The prosecution wants you to believe Beaumont opened a fake account at Penn Bancorp, that’s the first account. To prove this, they’ll rely on a witness named Maggie Smith. She’s a manager at Penn Bancorp. But ask yourself, does she actually identify Beaumont? Does anyone from Penn Bancorp? The prosecution also wants you to believe Beaumont opened a second account, this time at First Regional. To prove that, they’ll rely on Natasha Freet. She’s a teller. But can she identify Beaumont like they claim? Do they offer any evidence that he ever opened
Beckett closed his notebook.
“Focus on the facts, not the innuendo, not the suggestions, just the facts. As you do, keep three things in mind. The prosecution has the burden of proof. That means they need to prove every element of their case or you need to acquit Beaumont. You can’t guess, you can’t suppose, you can’t assume, and you can’t fill in the gaps. If something is missing, it’s not your fault; it’s the prosecution’s fault for bringing a case they never should have brought and for asking you to convict a man without showing you evidence of his guilt. Secondly, you’ve all heard the phrase ‘beyond a reasonable doubt.’ That means exactly what it says. You need to be sure, beyond any reasonable doubt, that the prosecution has proven every single element of every single crime they allege. They can’t just offer you a suspicion and they can’t suggest something probably happened, they need to convince you beyond any reasonable doubt. Finally, in our system of justice, a person is innocent until proven guilty. To assume that Beaumont is guilty or that any fact is true is morally, ethically, and legally wrong. If you do that, you deny Beaumont his most fundamental right as an American, the same right afforded to you, to me and to the prosecution. As Mr. Pierce said, you are the guardians.”
With the opening statements finished, Judge Sutherlin excused the jury for lunch, but not before instructing them not to speak to anyone about the case. “When you are downstairs in the cafeteria, do not speak to anyone about this case. You may not speak to anyone from the media or anyone from the defense or the prosecution. You may not talk about this case amongst yourselves. You are not to read anything about this case or watch any coverage that may happen to be on television. If someone nearby starts talking about this case, walk away. If anyone tries to speak to you about the case, let the bailiff know immediately, and we’ll take care of the rest. The jury is dismissed until 1:30.” With that, the clerk ordered everyone to rise until the jury, and then the judge, left the courtroom.
“Morales is nervous about something,” Beckett whispered to Corbin. “Follow her and see what happens. I’m going to prepare for Russell.” Beckett looked at his watch. “We have about an hour and a half. Let’s meet downstairs in twenty minutes.” As Beckett spoke, the bailiff discreetly shackled Beaumont’s wrists and then his ankles. “I’ll see you after lunch, Beaumont. Hang tight.”
“Shit, I ain’t got nothing to do but hang,” Beaumont replied, before being led back to the holding cell.
Twenty minutes later, Corbin found Beckett sitting in the cafeteria writing notes. He looked around to make sure no one could hear them. “Get this. Webb was standing by himself, down the hall from Russell. Morales made a beeline for Webb. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was nasty. When it was done, Webb tossed his hands in the air and stormed off down the hall toward the staircase.”
“Did he leave the building?” Beckett asked.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t follow him without being obvious. He was pissed though, and she looked worried. After he disappeared, she went over to Russell and argued with him. It looked like she told him to follow Webb, but after he looked at his watch, they seemed to change their minds.”
“Interesting.”
“I suspect Webb’s gone AWOL,” Corbin said.
“This could be our lucky break. Let’s get back to the courtroom.”
Chapter 38
Eddie Pierce leaned against the podium. Sgt. Warner Russell sat in the witness box. He wore an ornate dark-blue dress uniform with the standard piping, ribbons and decorative buttons, as well as each of the medals he’d earned over the course of his career. The uniform was freshly laundered and its seams were crisp. Russell had already introduced himself and explained his background with the department. He came across as professional, knowledgeable and reliable, which was to be expected. An experienced officer knows exactly what to say on the stand and how to say it. They know what they can get away with and they know how to work with a prosecutor to make the story sound convincing. A talented officer can make a case, even where the prosecutor isn’t very good. Russell was a talented officer.
“Tell me about November 21st of last year,” Pierce asked, waving his left hand theatrically. His right hand remained jammed in his pocket.
“We was observing a lot of identity theft during the prior few months, and we was doing an investigation.” Russell spoke more to the jury than to Pierce. “Somebody was opening lots of fake bank accounts all over the city, takin’ out credit cards in people’s names, that sorta thing. On November 20th, we got an anonymous tip that the defendant, Mr. Beaumont, was involved. So the next day, me and my partner went to see him to find out what he knew.”
“Were you planning to arrest Mr. Beaumont?” Pierce asked.
“No, we just wanted to talk to him.”
“Did you find Mr. Beaumont?”
“Yes, we did.”
“What happened when you found him?”
“We drew our sidearms and-”
“Wait a minute!” Pierce interrupted, in a deeply-concerned voice. “I thought you just wanted to talk to
