Chapter 43
CHAPTER
Back in court. A week had passed, and Sheriff Owens was still investigating the death of Cocheta Bass.
He’d called a press conference, a rare event in Bullock County—though it was becoming more common.
The sheriff said they still had no suspects, but that he wanted to reassure the community: There was no cause for alarm.
People were not comforted by his rhetoric. Plenty of folks in the county were alarmed. I was included in that number. Because I was well acquainted with the sheriff, had the opportunity to observe his investigative skills over the years.
Mick Owens wasn’t stupid. He did just fine handling a case that was open-and-shut. Where the suspect was caught red-handed or confessed during interrogation. But in a challenging case?
That man couldn’t find his ass with both hands.
I sat at the bench the following Tuesday, looking down at the counsel tables. The DA, Robert Reeves, sat in his customary spot. On that occasion, he had AAG Eleanor Lindquist seated beside him.
At the defense table, Benjamin Meyers sat with Dr. Bria Gaines.
She appeared to be composed, listening and nodding as Meyers spoke softly to her.
She was changing, though. I could see it.
Like she was aging before my eyes. Her face had the haggard look that comes from stress and uncertainty and sleepless nights.
Didn’t surprise me that she was suffering.
If the doctor wasn’t scared, I’d be concerned.
Might have to question her intelligence.
But Dr. Gaines was smart. She knew what the stakes were.
I cleared my throat to get their attention.
After all parties raised their eyes to the bench, I said, “I see that counsel for defendant has filed a motion in the case of State of Alabama v. Bria Gaines, Case No. CR194317. Defendant is here in person and with counsel, Benjamin Meyers. The State is represented by District Attorney Robert Reeves and Assistant Attorney General Eleanor Lindquist.”
They were quiet. Waiting.
I said, “Mr. Meyers, you have filed a motion in limine to exclude witnesses. For the record, please identify the witnesses you allege should not be permitted to testify at trial in the instant case.”
He stood. “Starla Jones and Nova Jones, Your Honor. For the reasons set forth in the motion.”
I was entirely familiar with the substance of his motion.
A motion in limine is a request made prior to trial to exclude certain evidence or testimony.
He wanted to keep Nova and her mother off the stand.
A helluva ask, you understand. I needed to hear his justification, to have it on the record. “And what are the grounds?”
“Your Honor, I’ve uncovered information confirming that the prosecution witnesses are being compensated in exchange for their testimony.”
“Objection!” It was a female voice, ringing out in righteous indignation. The AAG, Lindquist, was on her feet, rather than Reeves. Which was interesting. Made me wonder who was in charge.
She spoke with the air of a person whose good name had been besmirched.
“The defense is making grave allegations of misconduct, Judge. Allegations which are baseless. We’re putting the defense on notice that the State will not permit opposing counsel to abuse our witnesses.
The claims in the motion are highly inflammatory.
The State believes that these false statements constitute defamation. ”
I focused on the defense table. Meyers appeared unaffected by Lindquist’s accusations. His client, though, was troubled. Bria’s mouth trembled, and she covered it with her hand.
The doctor was torn. And she was not alone. I had conflicting sympathies in this case, too.
I kept my manner brisk, all business. “Mr. Meyers, what evidence do you have to support the claim that the witnesses are being compensated for testimony?”
He opened a file folder. Pulled out two stapled documents.
“Your Honor, to substantiate our claims, I submit witness statements from two individuals who have been endorsed as witnesses by the State. The first is the statement of Nova Jones, whose name appears in the charge against my client. And the second statement was taken from her mother, Starla Jones.”
Lindquist took a step toward the bench. “Those statements are not sworn, Judge. Not taken under oath. And Mr. Meyers didn’t ask our permission to speak with the clients. He didn’t even let us know he’d contacted them. We should have had the opportunity to be present.”
She was speaking out of turn. I ignored her. “Mr. Meyers, what did the witnesses tell you regarding compensation?”
“They said they were receiving donations. Food deliveries on a regular basis. Clothing donations. Even cash. To cover rent and sundry expenses.”
That was a serious allegation. The DA’s office couldn’t provide its witnesses with cash support. If the claim was true, the prosecution had to answer for it.
I turned directly to the DA. “Mr. Reeves?”
Before the DA could reply, Benjamin Meyers stepped right up to the bench. “Judge, one more thing. The DA failed to disclose this. Neither Reeves nor Lindquist revealed this crucial information to the defense. That’s a Brady violation, Judge!”
Damn.
It was getting deeper and deeper. The Brady rule requires the prosecution to disclose evidence favorable to the defendant’s case. If the State suppresses exculpatory information, it’s a violation of due process. Could be a basis for throwing out the whole damn case.
Reeves was on his feet. “We didn’t know!”
Eleanor Lindquist echoed the words as she joined Benjamin Meyers in front of the bench.
“We didn’t know, Judge! Neither the DA’s office nor mine had any idea that this was going on.
After we received the defendant’s motion, we looked into it.
And apparently the Victory Baptist Church has been providing some assistance to Starla and her children.
As part of the mission of the church. We had no part in it, Judge. ”
Reeves stepped up. “Judge, we asked Reverend Erskine to be present today, in case we need his testimony. He’ll back us up, I assure you.”
Lindquist said, “He’s waiting just outside the courtroom, Judge.”
Well, shit. Erskine. I was in no mood for that. Lindquist marched down the aisle to the courtroom entrance. Prepared to prove it, I expect.
The DA said, “And Starla and Nova Jones are waiting in my office. We can put them on the stand. They’ll testify under oath that we have not provided any compensation whatsoever.”
The AAG opened the courtroom door, and Erskine entered. Wearing his full pastoral regalia: the black suit, white clerical collar.
“He’s prepared to testify, Judge,” Lindquist said.
I looked to Benjamin Meyers. “Well? It’s your motion.”
Meyers walked back to the counsel table. Bent down to confer with Dr. Gaines.
That’s when Pastor began to volunteer information. “Judge Stone, I apologize if my parishioners have caused any trouble in this court case. I assure you, that was not our intent. We were just trying to do the Lord’s work. Looking out for the fatherless children.”
I took a breath. Because I intended to cut the man off, shut him up.
He was too quick for me.
“Your Honor! We’re humble Christians at Victory Baptist, we don’t know all the twists and turns of the laws of the government.
My parishioners just had one aim. They were trying to provide charity to a single mother.
‘For now abideth faith, hope and charity, these three. But the greatest of these is charity.’ That’s the King James Version. ”
Jesus. I frowned down at Benjamin Meyers. Was he gonna make me do his job?
Apparently not. Meyers shot a look at Erskine, said, “Your Honor, defense objects and asks that this man’s statements be removed from the record. This witness hasn’t been sworn.”
The sound of Erskine’s laughter bounded off the courtroom walls. “This man doesn’t know me, Judge. I don’t need to take an oath in order to speak the truth.”
I did not intend to lose control of the courtroom.
I’d be damned if I’d let Erskine drag his pulpit up to my bench.
“Sustained. Reverend Erskine, if you wish to remain in court, you’ll need to be seated.
And you’ll hush your mouth. Unless—does the prosecution intend to put the pastor on the stand in this hearing? ”
The pastor did not sit his ass down. Erskine’s voice boomed, drowning mine out.
“Judge! I can fix this problem. My church made it, it’s my responsibility to correct it.
” He gazed around the courtroom, staring at Dr. Gaines before turning back to me.
“If Victory Baptist has offended the law by providing food and clothing and rent money to the Jones family, we’ll cut it off. Immediately.”
Well, shit.
It made me sick. I was forcibly reminded of the passel of small children eating breakfast on my farm. Starla Jones had so many, I couldn’t keep all the names straight.
My job is tough. And some days are worse than others. I kept my tone flat when I addressed the defense attorney.
“Mr. Meyers? Is that what you want? Will the reverend’s proposal satisfy the defense?”
I could catch her whisper when from the counsel table Bria Gaines said, “No!” Benjamin Meyers heard it, too. They consulted, a hushed exchange.
He stepped back to the bench. “The defense doesn’t control the actions or decisions of the leadership at Victory Baptist Church.
But the prosecution has permitted a coercive situation to develop, under which the State’s witnesses are rewarded for their participation in this criminal case against my client.
On that basis, their testimony should not be admitted. ”
I was torn, shredded. I didn’t want to make the order that would dry up the Jones family’s grocery supplies. Starla and her kids needed whatever support the church could provide.
But Bria deserved a fair trial. Her life was at risk.
I almost chickened out. Almost said, “I’ll take it under advisement.”
But that wouldn’t resolve anything. So I made my decision. Announced it from the bench. Just like the judgment of King Solomon. In the Book of Kings, the Old Testament story of the two women who claimed the same baby.
“Defendant’s motion in limine is overruled. The receipt of donations from the members of Victory Baptist is not a basis to exclude Starla Jones and Nova Jones from testifying in this case.”
I stole a look at Dr. Gaines. She was staring at a blank legal pad. Seemed like she’d lost all hope. So I split the baby. Like King Solomon offered to do.
“But the defense raises a viable possibility that witnesses might be affected. The donations may continue, but the defense can use the facts regarding compensation in cross-examination at trial.”
At that, the courtroom burst into a chorus of voices, all the lawyers talking at once.
“Objection!”
“This won’t work, Judge, you need to rethink it—”
“This is an unreasonable ruling—”
“What’s the church supposed to do? We need a firm decision!”
I pounded that gavel. “Order!”
Kept bringing the hammer down until the voices fell silent. I looked over at Marlena. “Did you get that ruling down?”
Marlena nodded as her hands flew over the keyboard, recording the ruling.
“Court is adjourned,” I said. In my no-bullshit judge voice.
At the counsel tables, briefcases were slammed shut. Angry murmurs were just barely audible.
No surprise. I could read the room. If King Solomon was still around, he could’ve warned me.
When you split the baby—you make everybody mad.