But I’m not here to discuss the evidence, or our strategy at trial. For one thing, the evidence is stacked against us, and we haven’t formulated a coherent defense, at least not for our case in chief.
I’m here to plant some things in the minds of the people that shouldn’t be watching, the seven men, five women, and six alternates who are on our jury. But more importantly, I’m here to scare a bunch of people who aren’t.
I’m easily able to deflect questions about the evidence and our strategy by claiming that we can’t reveal too much, lest the other side gain an advantage. Burns understands that and backs off, and opens the door for me to discuss what I’m interested in.
I decide to be direct, and say, “To be honest, Doug, my hope is to use your show to send a message.”
He smiles, spreads out his arms, and says, “That’s what we’re here for.” He probably senses that this has the potential to be a big story, and besides, we’re live on television. He’s not going to throw me out; he’s got air time to fill.
“There’s a man named Ray Camby; he’s a two-time ex-con who has been available for hire. From the moment I took on the Galloway case, he started following me.”
“Why was he doing that?”
“Because there are people who are trying to stop this trial, because they are afraid of what will come out. They are the people who killed Danny Butler.” The audience will know who Butler is, because he was in Burns’s setup piece.
“Do you know who these people are?” Burns asks.
“Not yet. But we’re getting close.”
“Is Ray Camby still following you?” He smiles, peers into the lights, shielding his eyes, and says, “Ray, are you out there?”
“You’ll have to talk louder than that,” I say. “Ray Camby was murdered last week, to prevent my investigators from questioning him. But we did manage to get a great deal of valuable information, and we’ve traced back Camby’s connections.”
“Who are those connections?”
“They are people in very prominent positions, in business and in government.”
“You have names?”
I smile. “I do, but I’m not going to reveal them here, at least not tonight. My investigators are going to be approaching these people, starting tomorrow. They will be given an opportunity to cooperate, to discuss with us in confidence what they know about this situation. If they refuse, their names will be made public, and I will invite the working press to start digging.”
“You’re making a very serious threat,” Burns points out.
“I understand that. But twenty-six people died in that fire, and two more have been killed in recent weeks. In addition, an innocent man faces the possibility of life in prison. I think it’s time we played some hardball, and I’m not only willing to make these threats, but I’m very prepared to back them up. And that’s where Mr. Downey comes in.”
Burns then takes the cue and starts asking Downey how he is involved in this process. Downey announces that his company has accepted my proposal to publish a book I will be writing, mainly about the Galloway case, but also about others in my career.
“It will be after the conclusion of the case,” Downey says, “so there will be no reason to hold anything back. Andy has promised to name names, most notably of those who have not cooperated with the defense.”
Downey fends off Burns’s questions about details, mainly because he doesn’t have any. He doesn’t even have a contract with me, not even an agreement that I will write the book. He certainly hopes I will, but the publicity this will generate for his company is payment enough for the moment.
We go through the drill twice more, on two other shows, and head home. The trial starts tomorrow, so I’ve got quite a bit of work ahead of me tonight.
I’m tired, but pleased with how it went. Hopefully I’ve made some people very nervous. I know I am.
“I thought I had seen it all,” is how Dylan begins his opening statement. “I’ve been in this job a long time, and I thought I’d seen it all.” He shakes his head, sadly, at the realization that in fact he hadn’t seen it all.
“It’s my job to deal with terrible things, and I’ve seen a lot of them. Every time someone gets robbed, or embezzled, or assaulted, or murdered, it comes through my office. And I have to admit my colleagues and myself get a little hardened to it; I suppose that’s human nature.
“But every once in a while we’re presented with something so terrible and so tragic that it stuns us all, and makes us recoil in horror. But someone in my job doesn’t get to make it go away by turning off the TV, or not buying the newspaper. I need to face it head-on, as distasteful as it might be.
“And now, today, so do you. You are going to see things during the course of this trial that I wish you didn’t have to see. You are going to hear things I wish you didn’t have to hear.
“But it all comes with my job, and now it comes with yours. Because you and I need to do whatever we can to make sure that something as horrible as this does not happen again.
“Twenty-six people died a horrible death one night six years ago. Most of them were completely innocent, a few weren’t. But none of them deserved the fate that they got. None of them deserved to suffer as they suffered… no one does.
“It took six years to identify the perpetrator of this horrible crime. There was certainly no rush to judgment here. Finally, when it looked as if it might go unsolved, someone came along and provided a key piece of information. After that, through diligent and dedicated investigation by the Federal Bureau of Investigation, all the pieces fell into place.
“Noah Galloway committed this crime. This is not the time for me to convince you of that fact; the evidence will do that. You will be left without a reasonable doubt, which is what our system properly demands.
“You will see Noah Galloway for what he is, and what he has done, and you will do your job. As unpleasant as all of this will be, I have no doubt you will do your job.
“So I thank you for your service.”
Dylan has done an effective job of bringing the jurors on to his team, the team that is dedicated to protecting society from the horribly evil people on my team. It no doubt fits the narrative they came in with, so I’m sure it landed on receptive ears.
As I stand I glance at Noah, who is staring straight ahead and betraying no emotion, as I have counseled him to do. But I can’t help wondering what’s going through his mind. Before I met him, he was resigned to his fate, and comfortable with it. He felt he deserved whatever the system decreed, and that would be that.
But he’s a smart guy, and though he isn’t quite willing to admit it, he must be coming to believe in at least the possibility of his own innocence. That automatically gives him something major at stake, and also gives him a reason to be frightened, and bitter, and angry, and very, very anxious.
He’s not showing it, and that’s good, but he’s got to be feeling it.
I pat him on the shoulder, as much for the jury’s sake as his own, and stand. “I’ve been in my job a lot of years as well,” I say, “but I’ve already had a relatively new experience this time. Very often I can go an entire trial without agreeing with anything the prosecutor says, but this time we are on the same page on a major issue.
“What happened that night six years ago is horrible… no doubt about it. And I would like the person who did it to go away for the rest of his life, and I would be fine if that life wasn’t a long one.
“But your job is not to punish the person that the prosecutor says is guilty. You are not punishers, you are finders of fact. It is your job to decide whether Noah Galloway is guilty, not to protect society. Society is not protected by an innocent man going to prison; it suffers for it.