“But what does reasonable doubt mean? It means that if you have even a small degree of doubt that my client is guilty, then these charges get thrown in the garbage can, where they came from.”
He began to walk a little bit as he spoke, starting from one end of the jury box and moving to the other. “Now, there are two types of evidence,” he was saying, as if teaching a class. “Direct and circumstantial. Direct evidence is something tangible: what a witness sees-his or her own perceptions. Circumstantial evidence is that type of evidence which requires you to make an inference…it means that you have to take the facts that are presented, and then make a leap of logic, to try to connect other circumstances to those facts you accept to be true.”
He paused, looking at the bewildered looks of the people on the jury. Denton knew that Warwick had accomplished exactly what he’d set out to do. Try to make the prosecution’s case so contrived and puzzling that they will take the easier route: acquittal.
“Confusing,” Warwick said with a slight chuckle, “I know. It confuses me at times too, and I deal with this stuff each and every day.” Relate to me, he was telling them. I’m just like one of you. Trying to get them onto his side.
“The state’s case is based solely on circumstantial evidence. In fact, they’re so desperate for something, anything they can hang their hats on, some form of proof that will show that my client is guilty-that they are trying to tell you that my client had motive. But motive is nothing more than circumstantial evidence!
Warwick shook his head at Denton, as if to say, shame on you.
“Did my client like Phillip Madison? No, she did not. He was rude to her, tried to rape her, and then tried to pay her off to stop her from taking the case public. He had a reputation to protect. A well-known surgeon publicly accused of rape? That would be… detrimental to his practice,” Warwick said, smiling, as if he were sharing a joke with the jury-an incredible understatement. Two jurors smiled back.
“No, he couldn’t let her go public. So he offered her money, and she took it-a mere forty thousand dollars to make the misery of a protracted and humiliating rape trial go away. But yes, she was still angry, and she did send the letter and photo to Phillip Madison’s wife. But what was wrong with that? It was nothing less than the truth. There wouldn’t have been a problem if Madison had told his wife about the settlement, but he kept it from her, lied to her. If Madison chose to lie to his wife and keep certain facts from her, well…” he said, smiling again at the jury, “you can’t blame my client for that.
“And you can’t find her guilty of murder because she merely wanted to avoid the publicity and embarrassment of a high-profile rape trial. Can you, now?”
He paused, for effect.
“No. My client, in fact, has nothing to do with these murders. Actually, Phillip Madison was the suspect they initially charged. But then, suddenly, a few days before his trial is to begin, the DA lets Madison go and charges Miss Harding. Why, we don’t know. Oh, he’s said it’s because of new evidence that they stumbled upon. I don’t buy it. But we’ll never know the true reason why he suddenly switched gears. Maybe it was pressure from someone-from the press, from some politician who owed Phillip Madison-”
“Objection!” Denton was on his feet. “Your Honor, this is completely inappropriate and Mr. Warwick knows it. He’s accusing my office of impropriety and, he has absolutely no proof of such an allegation.”
“Approach,” Judge Calvino said, his face as red as a strawberry, his left eyebrow twitching fiercely.
The two attorneys walked up to the bench; the judge looked down upon them from his perch and covered the microphone so the jury would not hear. “Mr. Warwick, explain.”
“Nothing to explain, Your Honor. I simply felt that there had to be some better reason for the DA to have dropped the charges against-”
“This is contemptible!” Denton said.
“Mr. Warwick,” Calvino said between clenched teeth, “let’s not get off on the wrong foot in this trial. You know the rules. That was a cheap shot against Mr. Denton. If you do anything of this nature again, I’ll hold you in contempt. No more warnings, understand?”
Warwick nodded. “Yes, Your Honor.”
Calvino motioned them away with his hands, as if he were shooing away flies.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the judge said, addressing the jury, “Mr. Warwick made inappropriate remarks that have absolutely no basis in fact. I’m instructing you to disregard what you’ve just heard.” He shook his head and glared at Warwick. “Objection sustained.”
Warwick paced for a moment in front of the jury box, composing his thoughts, hand on his chin. Reprimand notwithstanding, Denton was well acquainted with the trick Warwick had deployed: a judge can tell a jury to disregard certain remarks, but the fact was, they heard them-and nothing anyone could say would miraculously erase those comments from their memory.
Warwick stopped pacing and faced the jury. “The DA will attempt to show you that there were cans of beer in the vehicle, and that these cans had traces of saliva on them. They extracted DNA from this saliva, and it showed a pattern of genetic material that supposedly matched that of my client. Whether or not DNA is a legitimate test is not important at this moment. What is important is that it doesn’t matter whether or not Miss Harding’s DNA is on the beer cans. All it proves, if it proves anything at all, is that at some point in time, those cans were in Miss Harding’s possession. It doesn’t mean that she was driving the vehicle when it struck the two pedestrians.
“So I’m going to ask you to remember three things throughout this trial. The first is reasonable doubt-if there’s an ounce of doubt in your minds that my client is guilty, you must find her not guilty. The second thing to keep in mind is the concept of circumstantial evidence. No one saw Miss Harding driving that car. No one saw her kill those people. No one even saw her near Phillip Madison’s house either before, or after, she supposedly stole his car. There is no direct evidence of my client’s guilt whatsoever.
“The last thing that I want you to remember is that Miss Harding is innocent until proven guilty. I’m telling you now that the DA will fail to make his case. He has the burden of proof, and he will not meet his burden. Remember what I’m telling you, because I’ll remind you of it when the trial is over. You must find my client not guilty, because she is…Not Guilty. Thank you.”
Warwick took his seat. Denton tried to look impassively at the judge, awaiting his next orders. He did not want to look at the jury. Warwick had made a good showing, better than Denton had thought he would, exposing many of the weakest points of the prosecution’s case against Harding. And while no DA likes it when the defense, or the judge, belabors the point of reasonable doubt, Warwick did not merely belabor it. He beat it into the ground like a flag, and then saluted it.
Calvino looked down at his watch and declared a recess until after lunch. As everyone prepared to file out of the courtroom, the reporters were still scribbling furiously to get down their final thoughts on the opening arguments. The first person to leave the courtroom was the man who was sitting in the last row, nearest the doors: Jeffrey Hellman.
CHAPTER 63
Hellman grabbed lunch with Denton and his assistant prosecutor. He commended them on a strong opening statement, and they discussed the strategies that Denton had outlined for the trial. Hellman felt it was a reasonable and sound approach.
When they returned to court, the jury was brought back in and Denton called his first witness: Detective Bill Jennings, who would establish the sequence of events leading up to his arrival at the crime scene, the collection of evidence by the criminalist, the discovery of the physical evidence on the car, the presence of Millstone beer cans inside it, and the resultant arrest of Phillip Madison. Jennings was brief and to the point. He had been through this many times in the past and knew how to allow Denton to lead him without letting it appear as such. He responded negatively here and there to give the impression that this was all something new, something they had not rehearsed or discussed.