Imperfect Justice_ Prosecuting Casey Anthony - Jeff Ashton [118]
Linda told the defense and the judge. We brought the potential juror into court and confirmed that Linda was correct, this woman had indeed volunteered for EquuSearch. We began to speak to the other jurors and our fears were confirmed: she had told anyone that would listen about her involvement. Just to be safe, the judge struck the whole group. Since we had no other jurors to question, we lost the remainder of that day. What are the odds that of the almost nine hundred thousand residents of Pinellas County, the one person who was involved in our case was called in for jury duty on that particular day? Like so much else in this case, it was the strangest of coincidences.
The questioning dragged on through the first week with little progress. We’d get to court early, eat lunch in the cafeteria, work until six, and return to the hotel for dinner and sleep. It is a grueling schedule. Judge Perry, who thought we would be able to pick the jury in a week, was getting visibly frustrated with our lack of progress and made us work on Saturday. On Saturday afternoon Rita and the kids came over, and I sure needed the break. It was such a relief to see them. We took the kids to the beach on Sunday morning, and they left by midafternoon. By three that afternoon I crashed—we were all exhausted, and eventually the process got to everyone. On Wednesday of the second week, we had to break at midday because Baez was throwing up in the bathroom. The way he was sucking down Red Bulls and energy drinks, I’m not surprised he got sick.
Tedious as it was, this was the most technologically advanced jury selection I had been involved in. We used the Internet extensively. Our greatest concern was having a juror who was looking to cash in. We actually smoked out a couple of potential jurors through Facebook and Twitter postings.
As the days of jury selection wore on, we came to the realization that the amount of publicity here was almost as bad as back home. Almost everyone had heard about it. As if the rigors of six to eight weeks away from home weren’t bad enough, the publicity eliminated most of the jurors that we felt we wanted. It wasn’t just that they’d heard about it; many had formed strong opinions about it. The problem was that the prosecution needed people who formed strong opinions.
This was still a circumstantial case where the defendant’s guilt would be proved by connecting pieces of evidence that told a story. Most murder cases are circumstantial. Murders are rarely committed in front of witnesses; most are secret crimes. Sometimes circumstantial evidence is the only way to answer the question of the whos, whys, or hows of a crime.
Though some in the media speak derisively about a case by referring to it as circumstantial, a well-connected chain of circumstantial evidence is often stronger than an eyewitness case. The downside to circumstantial cases, however, is that they require more of the jury—more thought, more attention, and often more intelligence. Of the seventy murder cases I have brought in my career, the vast majority of them were circumstantial. Most of the people who sit on death row today were convicted on circumstantial evidence.
Think of it this