Chapter 21 – The Wise Judge Gershwin

  Thursday morning June 5, 2008 – 11:59 AM

  “Judge Gershwin wants to have a chat with you,” snapped Billy in a barking tone as he led Newlan towards the judge’s chamber, which was located within a stone’s throw of courtroom 630, directly adjacent to the juror deliberation room.

  Based on their proximity to Judge Gershwin’s office, as soon as they left the deliberation room they were practically standing at her front door, which was open. But regardless, Billy knocked anyway, and with a pleasant smile the honorable judge gestured, “Come in, come in,” as she waved Newlan to take a seat across from her desk.

  Billy slowly closed the door behind them, and as he did so, he whispered to Newlan; “I’ll be waiting out here to escort you to your car.”

  “Mr. Newlan I understand that you have a relative who may have a connection to Mr. Breslin,” gleaned Judge Gershwin in a patient tone.

  “Yes your honor, my nephew works for the same company as Mr. Breslin,” confirmed Newlan, while at the same time he immediately sensed a layer of intimidation building up around him, even though he was raised to believe that no harm can come from telling the truth.

  “Now Mr. Newlan, have you spoken to your nephew about the case?” asked the astute magistrate.

  “No your honor,” respectfully replied Newlan.

  “And do you recall your nephew ever mentioning Mr. Breslin or anything whatsoever to do with the case to you?” quizzically wondered the forthright justice of the court, and once again Newlan answered with a solemn “no your honor.”

  “Mr. Newlan, I’m having a hard time detecting where the conflict of interest exists in this matter, and I can think of no reason to excuse you from the case. As I will repeat to you and the rest of the jurors on a daily basis, you are not to discuss the case with anyone, and if you honor that request, then there should be no issue with you continuing to serve as a juror on this trial,” assured Judge Gershwin. However, this time Newlan was positive that he was being lectured to, but he pressed on nonetheless.

  “But what if my nephew does say something about the case in my presence? I can’t just avoid him for the next month. I visit my sister’s house at least once a week,” explained Newlan. He realized that he was putting himself at risk of getting on Judge Gershwin’s bad side, but at the same time, he also felt obligated to make every attempt possible to relay his concerns to her.

  “Well, we’ll pass that bridge if and when we come to it,” professed Judge Gershwin, but this time with much more authority in her voice.

  “Mr. Newlan I sense that you don’t want to be here, and if that’s the case, then just say the word and I’ll excuse you…but I implore you to see this through. You may in time look back on this as a rewarding experience, and by the time the trial is over I’ll hazard a guess that we will have lost one or two jurors for legitimate reasons…” predicted Judge Gershwin. But before she could finish her remarks, Newlan unintentionally interrupted her; with no malice intended and no benevolence sought.

  “Do you really think that will happen?” asked Newlan in a questioning tone; although, he wasn’t really attempting to doubt her so much as he was just thinking out loud.

  “Trust me…in my experience I find that it is common for us to excuse a handful of jurors over the course of a long trial, so I would prefer not to lose someone on the first day of testimony unless it is an utterly unavoidable situation,” continued a determined Judge Gershwin.

  Newlan mulled over the situation long and hard, but in the end, he was still torn over what he should do. He was never very good at making decisions under pressure. On the one hand, he wanted no part of being on the trial. But on the other hand he realized that he didn’t have a particularly valid excuse; especially now that Judge Gershwin had enlightened him further as to the irrelevancy of his concerns.

  And so after an uncomfortable pause, Newlan begrudgingly announced, “OK, I’m gonna try and stick it out your honor.”

  “Splendid…have Billy return you to the juror room and let him know that we will be starting up again shortly,” replied Judge Gershwin in a much more enthusiastic tone.

  And with that, Newlan thanked the prudent judge for her time and slowly trudged out her office saddled with a mixture of afflicted trepidation and a sense of renewed resolve.

  Meanwhile, Judge Gershwin was left to pensively reflect on how her Psychology degree had come in handy once again, while at the same time Brandon, who happened to be strolling by her office just as Newlan made his exit, popped his head in the door and asked, “How’d it go with the problem juror?”

  “He’s still with us,” replied the judge with a wink. And then, with the same stern voice she would use when sentencing some of the most hardened criminals in the country, she added, “He seemed to think he had a choice in the matter, but I had no intention of letting him off the hook so easily. I believe it is due time that Mr. Newlan learns to face his fears head-on.”

  And wise though Judge Gershwin may have been, little did she know that Newlan was about to come face-to-face with his demons whether he liked it or not; little did she know that in short order he would be forced to confront his deepest fears and then some; little did she know, the Breslin case notwithstanding, that Newlan was about to be enrolled in a crash-course lesson pertaining to all matters big and small, in the never-ending game…of life…and death.