Injustice Read Free

Indictments were raining down.
    Today’s defendant, Jimmy Mailing, was known to us as a corporate security hack for Subsurface, Inc. So when he was found burglarizing the EPA offices, we tried leveraging him to get to his bosses. We offered him a walk on the burglary if he’d testify that his superiors at Subsurface had authorized the break-in.
    But Jimmy Mailing wasn’t playing. He lawyered up, denied having burgled the federal office, and claimed that somebody else, perhaps the FBI themselves, had planted those files in his car. So we were coming down on him as hard as we could.
    While Henry gave his opening, the defendant stared down at the tabletop. This was strange. Kendall is scrupulous about getting his clients to sit up straight, pay attention, and appear engaged. But this guy seemed morose, and Kendall made no effort to jar him out of it. I figured he must be a difficult client who had already used up all of Kendall’s patience.
    And something else: Kendall’s clients are always perfectly groomed—suit and tie, clean-shaven, conservative haircuts. But here this guy was in a dark turtleneck with black jeans and his hair falling down over his forehead. From what I could see of his face, which wasn’t much because of the way he sat, he had strong cheekbones and a long chin. He looked sinister. I felt sorry for Kendall, trying to help this ne’er-do-well who apparently wasn’t lifting a finger to help himself.
    Henry’s first witness was the security guard who had found the intruder in the building. The guard was earnest, overweight, and seemed credible. Henry led him through a direct examination:
    HENRY: What was your first indication that something was amiss?
    WITNESS: I heard him. I heard someone like, you know, like moving stuff around.
    HENRY: And you did what?
    WITNESS: I went to investigate.
    HENRY: Did you approach the intruder?
    WITNESS: Not at first. I watched him without him seeing me. I was behind him, and I stood behind a pillar, peeking around it to keep an eye on him.
    HENRY: For how long?
    WITNESS: Two or three minutes, I guess.
    The security guard looked at his watch to give authority to his estimate of two or three minutes. He was a good witness. He wore his uniform, which was sharp and well fitted, even though it covereda considerable expanse of belly. And he was well groomed and sat up straight and made eye contact with Henry. He even looked over toward the jury a few times.
    HENRY: And did you, at some point, get a good look at the intruder?
    WITNESS: Yes, sir. As he prepared to leave, I stepped from around the pillar. I had my weapon, but I didn’t draw it. I shouted at him. I said, “Halt. Turn around and identify yourself.”
    HENRY: And then what?
    WITNESS: He jumped. You know, startled. And he turned to look at me a moment, or several seconds, really, then he just ran.
    HENRY: Did you follow?
    WITNESS: I tried to, but he’d already scoped out his escape route. He was fast, and he, you know, jumped over stuff and was out of there before I could, you know, um, catch him.
    The witness looked down at his hands, embarrassed. He was clearly no match for the wiry and agile defendant. I wondered if he had really given chase. Maybe he’d just watched the defendant run away. The guy was just the night watchman in a federal office building. It’s not the kind of place you’d expect to be called upon for heroics.
    HENRY: But you say you got a good look?
    WITNESS: Sure. I watched him those few minutes, then I, um, I mean, he turned right around and faced me when I yelled at him. I saw his face, like, full-on.
    HENRY: And how was the lighting in the room?
    WITNESS: Well, it was night, of course, but there was enough light from different places. It was dim but not dark. I saw him perfectly well.
    HENRY: And do you see that man in the courtroom today?
    WITNESS: Yes, sir.
    HENRY: And would you point him out?
    WITNESS: Right there.
    The witness