From the Eyes of a Juror
Chapter 25 – No Signs of Life
Thursday afternoon June 5, 2008 – 2:00 PM
As the jurors settled back into the deliberation room for afternoon break, Jane angrily blurted out, “I can’t believe this. We’re only on the first witness and Gleason’s already starting with the character assassination crap. The poor guy’s dead. Let him rest in peace for God’s sake. Whether he liked to party or not should have nothing to do with the fact that Breslin was out to get him.”
For his part, Newlan absolutely agreed with portions of Jane’s assessment, although he was still itching to rebut the accusatory section of her commentary just the same. But to his credit, he wisely decided to bite his tongue this time. However, Stan, the affable juror in seat number 14 took the bait and replied, “Well it’s not Gleason’s fault that the witness mentioned that Miller might be passed out in his car. What the hell was she thinking?”
Of course, even though Newlan was trying like the devil to avoid getting into any arguments, remaining totally silent was seemingly beyond his grasp, and on top of that, he figured that a gentle reminder might be appropriate anyway.
“Um…we’re not supposed to be talking about the case…remember?”
“Oh yeah,” replied Jane with a dismissive look and a roll of her eyes, which clearly stated her inner thoughts of “don’t bother me with these minor details.”
It seemed to Newlan that Jane was already taking sides against Breslin…and he didn’t like it one bit.
“Jeez…I’d hate to be on trial for a serious crime and have my life in her hands,” imagined Newlan. His own plan was to reserve judgment until the very end. But he had to admit that even he wasn’t too comfortable with what was a common defense practice of putting the victim on trial.
“Maybe this Miller dude had some issues…so what…that doesn’t mean he deserved to be murdered,” silently surmised Newlan. “But on the other hand, if Gleason thinks that certain character issues from Miller’s past might raise a reasonable doubt, then I don’t blame him for using whatever means possible to help his client. I know we can’t lose sight of the fact that one guy’s dead already, but another man’s life is also at stake here, so I’m gonna make sure that I do the right thing, regardless of what Jane the Pain thinks.”
“Hey, I think I got a new nickname for the latest bane of my existence…Jane the Pain…kinda has a nice ring to it,” established Newlan as he chuckled to himself.
“Is it me, or was it freezing in that courtroom?” wondered Annie in an attempt to change the subject…and the mood.
“Yes, it is cold in there, and my seat is extremely uncomfortable as well. I’m going to have to bring in a sweater and a pillow tomorrow. Otherwise between the frigid temperature and the rigid chair, my back will never last a month,” grumbled the motherly Patty who occupied seat number 5 in the jury box but number one in Newlan’s heart.
“It’s tough getting old,” silently acknowledged Newlan, while at the same time he and the rest of his colleagues were being served up an earful of grievances, courtesy of the two elderly jurors, who were complaining like the old ladies that they were, for the remainder of their break.
Newlan, who was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, actually favored keeping the courtroom as icy-cold as possible. “It helps to keep us awake,” reckoned Newlan, and contrary to what Patty had claimed, he also found the jurors’ padded swivel seats to be very comfortable.
And speaking of seats, when the jurors returned to the courtroom, Newlan heedfully discerned that his swivel chair was angled noticeably towards the witness stand, while all the other seats in the jury box were pointed straight out towards the center of the courtroom.
Newlan’s headstrong knack for taking the unconventional route when it came to coping with life’s problems had become almost second nature to him over the years, but this wasn’t always the case, especially when he was a youngster just trying to fit in with the crowd. However, in this instance, he took pride in being different. It was only day one of the trial, but he was steadfast in his plan to never look beyond the divider that separated the jurors from the gallery, and he wasn’t the least bit interested in anyone else’s opinion on the matter.
But idiosyncrasies aside, by this point in the gruelingly long day, all Newlan really cared about was getting the hell out of there so that he could just go home and relax; a rare sentiment which, unlike most of his opinions, was unanimously shared by his fellow jurors as well.
Since this was but the first day of testimony, most of the jurors weren’t yet accustomed to the exhausting routine of being marched in and out of the courtroom like prisoners in chain gang. When you included breaks, lunch, and all of the other times they were asked to leave the courtroom due to some sort of legal wrangling, they would end up making an average of at least 7 to 10 trips back and forth from the juror room each day, which left them running very low on energy by late afternoon. But somehow they managed to hang in there. And while the routine may have been arduous, a wide range of extremely important testimony was about to be introduced right out of the gate, so it was crucial that they keep their wits about them.
DA Lyons’ next witness was the aforementioned Melissa Green who, as we heard during Ann W. White’s testimony, also worked for the Barron Insurance Agency, and along with Ms. White stumbled upon Fred Miller’s battered body on that haunted Friday the13th two and a half years ago.
Before Lyons began interviewing Ms. Green, she produced a large cardboard drawing, which, she explained, depicted the garage as it might have been viewed from up above.
“Imagine the ceiling being peeled away like a can of tuna fish,” expounded Lyons for the jurors benefit. And as various witnesses testified to the fact that they had parked in the garage on the day of the murder, she took a moment to jot down the pertinent information in the appropriate parking space on the drawing; basic yet critical information such as the name of the person, the model/year of their car, and their arrival time.
Lyons planned to use this visual aid to build a timeline which would assist the jurors in determining approximately when Fred Miller arrived at work, when he was murdered, and when his body was discovered.
“Your honor, I’d like to have this drawing marked for identification,” politely requested Lyons.
“No objections your honor,” added Gleason, and with the request going unopposed, Judge Gershwin turned towards the jury as she affably explained; “ladies and gentlemen, an item which is marked for identification will only be used to help us to visualize a witness’s testimony, whereas an item which is marked as an exhibit will be available for you to review during your deliberations.”
“Glad we straighten that out,” muttered Newlan who was getting crankier by the minute.
Lyons then handed the garage drawing over to Assistant Clerk, Dan Dente, who in turn announced, “Drawing of the garage marked for identification.”
With his stamp of approval in place, Dente returned the drawing back to Lyons who placed it on a pedestal to the right of the witness stand where it was visible throughout the courtroom. The scaled-down diagram, in part, looked something like this, and at the outset, it only included Fred Miller’s parking spot, pre-printed onto the cardboard (and as mentioned previously, DA Lyons’ plan was to add more details to the drawing as she went along):