The Color of Law_ A Novel - Mark Gimenez [117]
A lawyer learns with his first jury trial that the case is won or lost during jury selection. Today, with enough money, you can legally fix a jury. But since neither Scott nor his client had enough money to hire a jury expert, there was no paid consultant sitting next to Scott, only Bobby.
So Scott said to the men and women before him, “I’m nervous, about this. I’ve never represented a person accused of murder. Are you nervous, too?”
Heads started nodding.
“Well, rather than me asking you a lot of questions, maybe we’ll just visit for a while. Forget what we’re here for, forget you might be jurors, forget we’re lawyers—as you might have read, my former law firm’s been trying to forget I’m a lawyer.”
A few chuckles from the jury box, which gave Scott an idea.
“What’s the difference between a rattlesnake lying dead in the middle of a highway and a lawyer lying dead in the middle of a highway?”
A female juror: “Skid marks in front of the snake.”
The jurors laughed.
“You know why New Jersey got all the toxic waste dumps and California got all the lawyers?”
A male juror: “New Jersey got first choice.”
Louder laughter from the jury box.
“What do lawyers and sperm have in common?”
A male juror: “They both have a one-in-a-million chance of turning out human.”
Raucous laughter.
The same juror: “How do you know when a lawyer is lying?”
An old lady: “His lips are moving.”
Another: “A lawyer is a liar with a permit to practice.”
And another: “If an IRS agent and a lawyer were both drowning and you could save only one, would you read the paper or go to lunch?”
Scott finally interrupted the revelry.
“Hey, I went to law school. I get to tell the jokes.”
The jurors’ laughter died down, but their smiles remained.
“I take it you people don’t care for lawyers?”
All twenty-nine heads shook emphatically.
“You hate lawyers?”
All heads nodded emphatically.
“Why?”
An older man: “Because lawyers don’t know the difference between the truth and winning an argument.”
An older woman: “Because lawyers think being clever is the same as being smart.”
A young woman: “Because a lawyer will tell you the sky is green if that’ll help his case.”
A young man: “Because lawyers are greedy.”
Bobby: “Yeah, and they’re—”
“Bobby!”
Scott turned to the jurors. “And he’s a lawyer!”
The jurors were chuckling again.
Ray Burns stood. “Your Honor, if Mr. Fenney is through with his stand-up comedy act, perhaps we could—”
“Sit, Mr. Burns,” the judge said.
Ray Burns sat. Scott addressed the prospective jurors.
“Okay, I think we’ve established that all of you hate lawyers. And that’s okay. We deserve it. But my client doesn’t. You can hate me because I’m a lawyer, but don’t hate her because you hate her lawyer. Her life is in your hands. Give her a fair shake. Can you all agree to that?”
The smiles were gone, replaced by sober expressions. Every single juror nodded.
“All right, now I need to ask you a few questions. First, have any of you participated in voir dire before?”
One young man with a nose ring raised his hand and asked, “Is that like when there’s four?”
“Four what?”
“Four people. You know, like ménage à trois plus one.”
From behind, Judge Buford’s weary voice: “You’re excused.”
The man rose, shrugged, and shuffled out of the courtroom.
Scott said, “Any of you not heard about this case?”
No one raised a hand.
“All right. My client is