Hit List - Lawrence Block [89]
“Gee, Keller, I wonder why.”
“Right. So you’d think the prosecution would want white jurors, and the defense would want blacks.”
“Got it. When the defendant’s white and the cop is black, everything gets turned on its head.”
“But I don’t think anybody’s sure just how far it gets turned. I wish I’d known all this before voir dire, because it would have been interesting to watch. See, the ideal juror for the prosecution is a black man who thinks highly of cops, and the ideal for the defense is a white man who doesn’t.”
“Black man, white man. Don’t they have any women on your jury?”
“Seven of the twelve are women. And one of the two alternates.”
“And the black and white balance?”
“Four whites and three blacks, plus both the alternates are black.”
“Doesn’t add up, Keller.”
“Plus three Hispanics and two Asians.”
“How do they factor in, as far as believing in cops is concerned?”
“No idea.”
“How do you think the jury’ll decide?”
“Same answer. I couldn’t even guess.”
“And you? How’ll you vote?”
“I really shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“Keller . . .”
“I haven’t made up my mind.”
“Really? You don’t know if he’s guilty or not?”
“Oh, there’s no question about it,” he said. “Of course he’s guilty. One look at him and you know he’s a crook. He was probably making book on football games in high school, and he’s been receiving stolen goods ever since he dropped out.”
“But you just said—“
“And that’s not even considering the testimony we didn’t get to hear. For example, nobody told us what they found in Huberman’s apartment.”
“Maybe they didn’t find anything.”
“Then the defense would have brought up the subject. ‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my client’s supposed to be a receiver of stolen goods, and yet the district attorney would have you believe that the VCR identified as People’s Exhibit One is the sole piece of stolen property in his possession. Isn’t that an extraordinary coincidence?’ But nobody’s said a word about what the search did or didn’t reveal, and that means they found a room full of TVs and VCRs and camcorders, and the judge ruled the search was improper and threw it out.”
“Still, if you know the man’s guilty—“
“But did they prove it? And was he entrapped?”
“And who cares? You know what I think, Keller? The guy’s a fence, and the cop went and bought the VCR for his own personal use. And then he got mad and arrested the guy because he couldn’t figure out how to program the goddam thing. Well? What do you think?”
“I think it’s a shame you’re not on the jury,” he said.
“The cross-examination was brutal,” Gloria said.
Clifford Mapes, the arresting officer, had been on the stand all morning. Keller said he kept waiting for Mapes to lose it and explode.
“What I kept waiting for was for him to burst into tears. I know, I know. Cops don’t cry. But if it had been me on the witness stand there would have been tears.”
“Maybe it would be a good strategy,” Keller said. “Maybe it’d throw Nierstein off stride.”
Nierstein was the lead counsel for the defense, a deceptively mild-looking man whose hairline had receded to complement his chin. Confronting a hostile witness, the little man turned into a bulldog.
“I’d like to see him thrown off stride,” Gloria said. “Or off a cliff.”
“You don’t like him.”
“I think he’s mean.”
“It’s an act. ‘I’m not a sonofabitch, but I play one in court.’ “
“He should get an Emmy,” she said, “and she should get an enema.”
“Sheehy?”
“Uh-huh. You just know she’s gonna bring him back for redirect this afternoon.”
“She pretty much has to, don’t you think?”
“I suppose. We’re not supposed to let our feelings about the attorneys influence us, but how could you help it? Fortunately I dislike them both about equally, so it balances out. I don’t like anybody, to tell you the truth. The rest of the jurors are jerks and the bailiff’s a self-important idiot. I feel sorry for Mapes, but he’s sort of a doofus, isn’t he? And I feel sorry for Huberman, because he’s on trial, plus he’s got a