Antonelli - 03 - The Judgment by D. W. Buffa Read Free Book Online

Friday. ‘Thank you, your honor,’ I said without looking back.
    ‘Now tell me,’ I went on as if time had stood still, ‘even if you’re convinced the defendant is probably guilty, will you still vote to return a verdict of not guilty if the state fails to prove that guilt beyond a reasonable doubt?’
    “I’ll never forget the look on that juror’s face. The poor woman did not know what to do. She was willing to answer my question, but afraid to open her mouth.
    ” ‘Mr. Antonelli!’ Jeffries was screaming from the bench.
    “With a speed that surprised even myself, I shot to my feet.
    ‘Will you stop interrupting me!’ I shouted back at him. ‘I’ve earned the right to ask that question!’
    “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anyone that angry. ‘Do you know who you’re talking to, counselor?’ he asked, clenching his teeth so hard his whole face seemed to tremble.
    “I had always had a fondness for the kind of English barrister we used to read about in the old novels, the ones who could stand there, hand on hip, and with only a slight change of in-flection destroy an opponent with a single well-turned phrase. I don’t know where I got it—it must have been something I had read. I certainly did not make it up myself, but all of a sudden I remembered, and before I knew what I was doing, the words just came out.
    ” ‘Your honor, I’m not sure. Because, you see, I’m like a Bud-dhist in front of his idol: I know you are ugly, but I feel you are great.’
    “The jury, the bailiff, the clerk—everyone in the courtroom—
    froze, and every eye turned to see what Jeffries would do.
    “I had called him ugly and I had called him great. He could not contest the one without contesting the other. He stared hard at me, but behind those piercing eyes he was gaining control of himself, quickly calculating what he could safely do. Folding his hands together, he lowered his head and pursed his lips. When he looked up again, he nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face.
    ” ‘That was very good, Mr. Antonelli,’ he said in a quiet, reassuring voice. There was an almost audible sigh of relief from around the courtroom. ‘Very good, indeed,’ he added before he turned to the jury. ‘Mr. Antonelli,’ he informed them with a solemn smile, ‘has obviously been under a great deal of stress. I’m sure that with a good night’s sleep he’ll be back to his normal self. In the interest of everyone concerned, I think it would be better if we recessed now and started again tomorrow morning.’
    “I went straight home, threw my clothes into a pile on the bathroom floor, and took a long hot shower. When I was finished, I crawled into bed, languishing in the pure luxury of clean sheets.
    I slept all day and got up only long enough to have something for dinner before I went back to bed. The next morning, wearing a fresh shirt and a new suit, I sat at the counsel table and as if I had never laid eyes on her before began questioning that same juror.
    ” ‘At the end of this trial, after you have heard all the evidence, if you believe that the defendant is probably guilty, but you also believe that the state has not proven it beyond a reasonable doubt, will you return a verdict of not guilty?’
    “Instinctively, her eyes flew toward the bench. Jeffries was hunched over, reading something. ‘Yes,’ she replied, her eyes coming back to me.
    “We moved rapidly through voir dire, and by the end of the morning had a jury. That afternoon we made our opening statements and the next day the prosecution called its first witness, Edward Larkin.
    “He could have been anyone, the father of the kid down the block, the husband of a woman you work with, a pleasant-looking, well-dressed man, someone you would chat comfortably with while you stood together waiting for a bus. He spoke about the sexual relationship with his daughter as if he were a psychologist describing something that one of his patients had done.