“I talked to some of those people with Laurie. Just listening to them made me want to vote guilty. I mean, the world moves on, but these people have had to live with it every day. And then suddenly they’re harassed by cops and lawyers, and-”
Tara stops sniffing just as something hits me; I don’t think the two actions are connected.
Jesse Briggs mentioned that he was questioned by a police officer recently, and it annoyed me that the interview report wasn’t included in the discovery documents that Dylan had sent me. But Noah’s arrest was as the result of a federal investigation; there were no documents at all relating to “policemen.”
It could be just semantics, but I would think that if Briggs was questioned by an FBI agent, he would know the difference and speak more precisely.
More significantly, Tony at Taco Bell also mentioned something about talking to the cops recently. I didn’t think much of it, and assumed he meant back near the time of the fire, or to FBI agents. But maybe that’s not what he meant at all; maybe it was local cops that were doing the questioning.
If that’s the case, I need to find out why they were suddenly active, and more importantly, when.
The “when” is everything.
Becky was right; Bailey is not a golden.
Becky says that she’s a mastiff when she and Marcus drop her off, but I think she might be a horse. I even think I might have bet on her once.
She’s enormous, at least a hundred and fifty pounds, and walks slowly, languidly, as if it’s fine if she gets where she wants to go, but if she doesn’t, no big deal either way. She’s only three years old, but seems to have less energy than Edna.
As we always do when we introduce Tara to a visitor, we bring them separately to the backyard and have them meet there. Tara has no idea what to make of her; I’m sure she’s never seen an animal this big. She wouldn’t have to bend down much to walk under her.
Bailey, for her part, seems fine with Tara, though she doesn’t seem to care one way or the other. She wags her tail a couple of times, and I’m glad I’m not standing in the way of it when she does. Godzilla knocked over buildings in Tokyo with a smaller backside.
“What does she eat?” I ask, hoping the answer is not “small children.”
“Becky brought her food. It’s the same as Tara’s, only more. Much, much more.”
“Okay, Bailey,” I say. “This is Tara. She’s in control here; you have a problem, you come to me. If I can’t handle it, I go to Tara. We don’t ask much of you, just make your bed in the morning, and don’t make anything else in the house. And I handle the remote control at all times. You got that?”
I think she nods, although it could be that she’s dozing off. I don’t think she’s going to be a problem.
When we get back in the house, Bailey walks over to the couch and lies down on it. It’s amazing to watch; she doesn’t jump on to the couch, or climb on to it. Her legs are so long that she walks on to it.
I’m still staring at her when Willie Miller comes over. He does a double take when he sees Bailey, and says, “Whoa, what is that?”
“That’s Bailey. Tara’s new friend.”
“Oh, man, I want one of those.” He goes over and hugs Bailey on the couch, who seems to take it in stride.
Willie is here to update me on the progress he is making on his book. “This writing stuff is not as hard as I thought,” he says. “It’s like talking, only somebody puts it on paper when I’m finished.”
“Finished with what?”
“Talking. My helper has a tape recorder, and he asks me questions, and I answer them. Then he says, can we say it this way? Or that way? And I say, sure, whatever you want.”
“Sounds easy.”
“Well, not everybody could do it, but I’m picking it up pretty fast. You should try it; you can use the tape recorder when I’m done.”
As jury selection gets more crucial, it gets more boring.
That’s not to say it isn’t both crucial and boring to start with; it’s just that both aspects get magnified as it goes along.
The reason it’s crucial is of course that a few weeks down the road twelve people are going to sit in a room and decide whether Noah goes free or spends the rest of his life in jail. And right now Dylan and I are in the process of choosing who is going to be in that room.
But it’s also deadly dull, particularly now when we’re in the second day. We’ve already asked the same tedious questions of at least fifty people, and listened as they’ve given pat answers that may or not be true.
People react to their being called for jury duty in different ways, but all of them show up with a plan. That plan could consist of a way to get excused, or a way to get on a panel. They then answer questions according to what they think will accomplish their goal.
When it’s a high-profile trial like this one, the stakes get that much higher, both for the lawyers and the potential jurors. It increases the number of people who want to serve; instead of a lot of them seeing it as a few weeks out of commission, they often look at it as a potential book deal waiting to happen.
If you’re a defense lawyer, as I happen to be, the peril is even greater in this situation. That is because people who want on the jury to make a name for themselves are more likely to convict.
The public wants someone to blame for this crime, and the jurors that identify the fiend and put him away come off a lot more heroic than those who let the guy walk. There weren’t too many parades thrown for the Simpson jurors… not that there should have been.
So it’s a crapshoot anyway, but an even more difficult one in this case. We’re looking for open-minded people, should some happen to exist on this planet. We’re also looking for people smart enough to embrace alternative theories, should we stumble on one.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem as if these potential panelists were chosen from a list of Rhodes scholars, and we are having to settle for people who seem less than ideal for our purpose. My guess is that Dylan is feeling the same way, but that doesn’t cheer me up to any great degree.
It’s almost three o’clock before we have our panel in place, and Judge De Luca sends them home with the admonition to be back bright and early tomorrow morning.
He also reads a long, prepared speech about how the jurors are to avoid media coverage of the trial at all costs.
Yeah, right.
I’m assuming that they are normal human beings, and that they will therefore be channel-surfing tonight to find every bit of trial coverage that is available. And if they do, they will be seeing a lot of me.
I’m going on three cable news shows tonight, and all were eager to have me. It’s a sign that the 24/7 cable news networks have enough real programming to fill up maybe 14/4, if that.
We timed my proposed appearances to come on the night before opening statements. I’m doing them all from a single studio on West Forty-eighth Street in Manhattan, and they’re being beamed by satellite to the various networks. It’s not exactly a long beaming, since they’re all located right here in New York, but it certainly cuts down on cab fare.
I’m not going on alone; I’m doing so with Alexander Downey, Willie Miller’s publisher. When I called and told him what I wanted him to do, he jumped at the opportunity.
The first show is the most serious. Douglas Burns has just gotten his own legal show on CNN, and unlike some of his colleagues, he examines issues from an intelligent, legally savvy point of view.
Burns is a former federal prosecutor, turned defense attorney, turned TV personality. He’s done it all, and knows what he’s talking about, so it’s a little dangerous for me to go on his show. But if I can get by him, the rest will be easy.
Burns starts off the segment by summing up the issues in the case, utilizing all the evidence that has made its way into the public domain. It’s a thorough, compelling presentation, and if I could get him to slant it in our direction, I could use it as my opening statement.