Chapter 23
Beau Lee filed the fifty-million-dollar lawsuit at eleven a.m. and managed to organize the press conference by one.
He held the conference on the steps of City Hall, where he stood with Attorney Alvarez, Capes, Brother Harpo, Rocky, and Jamillah and her husband, Tyrone.
The wind and bits of snow barely smaller than rice grains pricked their faces, but Beau Lee saw it as a minor annoyance. His mind was on the task at hand.
Capes scanned the crowd for any potential dangers.
Beau Lee was sure he’d made the right call allowing Capes to sleep in.
The additional rest had made him sharper.
He’d even gotten to a department store to purchase a cable-knit turtleneck sweater, slacks, and a proper coat—charcoal-gray wool, thermal lined, and quarter length.
Capes knew that if he showed up to a press conference in his hoodie and motorcycle jacket, not only would he freeze, but his attire could also delegitimize Beau Lee’s agenda.
Capes was an easygoing man, and he liked to conduct himself freely, but he owed his life to Beau Lee, who understood his history, saw who he was as a person, and helped him up when he fell down hard.
Beau Lee always stressed the importance of “looking the part,” so Capes would follow his lead.
Black people, no matter the number of degrees and accolades, carried a stigma.
A bigoted belief was that their success was not earned.
Rather, it was due to affirmative action and government handouts.
Beau Lee aimed to counter that narrative, and Capes was proud to work for him.
Six news vans had arrived, and the crews were preparing to broadcast to millions of viewers across the world. Now, the world would finally hear the truth.
Beau Lee stood behind a podium. The news crews mounted their video cameras on tripods and jockeyed for the best angles.
It wasn’t long before bystanders joined, and the crowd grew larger, chanting, “Justice for Hollis!” and “End police terror!” Beau Lee welcomed Hollis’s supporters and protesters.
They were acting on their First Amendment rights—it was democracy in action.
People had to feel it in their guts, in their spirits, that the CPD’s accounting of events was deceptive, and the more questions people asked, the more everyone would see the truth: that the CPD cops had lied and the police department was complicit in trying to conceal those lies.
He tapped the microphone, ensuring it was on, and began to speak.
“My name is Beau Lee Cooper, and I am here today to announce that I, and the lawyers at our firm, along with our co-counsel Attorney Princess Alvarez, have been retained to represent Hollis Montrose and his family. Mr. Hollis Montrose, an off-duty Metra police officer, who, as you undoubtedly now have seen from the video uploaded on YouTube, was shot ten times by four Chicago police officers during a traffic stop. If the video didn’t do enough to dispel allegations that this was a justified shooting, we’re here to set the record straight.
” Beau Lee adjusted his hat as the frigid air coiled around his neck and ears.
He cleared his throat and continued: “Hollis Montrose was a victim of racial profiling, and when those officers realized they had stopped one of their own, they didn’t address their errors.
Instead, they sought to silence Officer Montrose for good with ten bullets in his back, even though he was lying prostrate on the ground. ”
A reporter quickly interjected: “Mr. Cooper, what proof do you have that the traffic stop was motivated by race or that Mr. Montrose identified himself as a police officer?”
“These officers have already shown their lack of integrity. We’ve all seen the video, and the police report that I have right here illustrates their deception.
” Beau Lee reached into his coat pocket, pulled out Dunham’s police report, and waved it for the crowd.
“This report says that Officer Montrose’s license plate was defaced, which, along with not signaling a lane change, was the reason for the traffic stop.
However, I urge you to watch the video closely and tell me, do you see anywhere in that video where the license plate is not legible? ”
The crowd roared, nearly drowning out the reporter.
Was it anger? Disbelief? The opening of old wounds?
Beau Lee was speaking to people’s mistrust of a police department with a sordid and unscrupulous past. The department had done little to make the Chicagoans forget about its history of corruption.
Misdeeds that were still fresh in people’s minds, like the Summerdale District robberies that saw cops joining with known criminal Richard Morrison to rob businesses.
Or the Midnight Crew, a group of cops who’d tortured innocent people, mostly Black men, into false confessions for thirty years before facing an investigation that brought their terror to an end.
“So I ask you, why, in a field like law enforcement, where Black people are scrutinized, harassed, ridiculed, and bullied far more than any other group, would Hollis Montrose undergo such abuse, emerge an exemplary officer, and serve his community to the fullest for decades, only to suddenly become maniacal and attack four policemen during a traffic stop? It lacks all logic and reason, and the Chicago Police Department and the City must know that we will not accept any attempt at a cover-up. What happened to Officer Hollis Montrose was an attempted murder of a good man!”
People resumed chanting: “Justice for Hollis! Free Hollis!”
The camera lights flashed, and reporters’ hands reached high.
Beau Lee took Rocky and Jamillah by the hands and drew them closer.
It’s never easy for family members to face the cameras and reporters in the wake of a tragedy.
Having to listen to what happened to Hollis was like reliving the night they learned he’d been shot.
And while Beau Lee was not a fan of the theatrics, he understood that in his line of work, it took more than facts to shake people out of apathy—it took the delivery of a fire-and-brimstone preacher convinced that doomsday was near.
“Attorney Cooper!” a hefty reporter wearing a bubble vest with his news station insignia and galoshes shouted from the front. “There’s been speculation that Hollis Montrose might’ve been targeted.”
“If people are speculating, it’s for good reason.”
“Our understanding is that Officer Montrose has an ongoing lawsuit against the Chicago Police Department over harassment and discrimination. Is that true?”
Beau Lee remarked, “I think it would be best if my co-counsel Attorney Alvarez responds to that question.”
Alvarez stepped forward and took a deep breath and then began to speak.
“It’s true that Officer Montrose is pursuing civil action against the CPD due to discriminatory treatment he received on the job as a hardworking African American police officer.
Therefore, I can report that we’re looking into all possible motives for the traffic stop and subsequent shooting,” Alvarez concluded as she retreated and Beau Lee stepped back up.
A female reporter standing by the camera in the middle of the growing number of press yelled, “Attorney Cooper, do you think that with the release of the video the DA should charge the officers with attempted murder?”
“My legal team, along with Hollis Montrose’s family, join people across Chicago, and all across America, in demanding that they charge these police officers for this unjustified shooting of Hollis Montrose.
However, we know based on the history of fighting for justice in America, we cannot predict whether the district attorney will bring charges against these officers for the shooting of a Black man.
But what we do know is what actions we can take, based on the Seventh Amendment of the United States Constitution, to get justice for Hollis Montrose.
That is why today, we announce that we have filed a fifty-million-dollar lawsuit against the City of Chicago and its police department for this unjustified, unconstitutional, and unnecessary use of deadly force that has left Hollis Montrose cuffed to a hospital bed facing the possibility of paralysis. ”
Beau Lee looked at Mrs. Montrose and Alvarez, and then turned back to face the cameras. “Thank you. We will keep you updated as we continue to fight for justice. If you’d excuse us, Mrs. Montrose would like to return to the hospital to see her husband.”
Beau Lee, Capes, and Brother Harpo escorted Rocky, Jamillah, and Tyrone from behind the podium to where a professional driver waited in an SUV.
It wasn’t safe for them to be seen getting into their personal vehicles.
What Hollis had been accused of had inspired plenty of people to protest—and the ones who sided with the police wouldn’t think twice before causing the Montrose family more harm.
The men walked alongside Jamillah and Rocky, blocking aggressive reporters intent on asking more questions.
“How’d they know about the lawsuit?” Rocky asked Beau Lee.
“The CPD complaint and lawsuit are public record. They’re attainable under the Freedom of Information Act. All it means is the reporters are doing their homework, which is encouraging. The more information we have out there about Hollis and the circumstances leading up to the shooting, the better.”
He opened the rear door of the Expedition, ushered Rocky inside, and then helped Jamillah in. Before he shut the door, Rocky asked, “Are you coming by the hospital?”
“Right after I wrap up here.”
“Good,” she said. “Since Hollis is awake, he’s starting to get his wits back. He’ll be his old self in no time.”
“I believe he will, Mrs. Montrose…”
“Call me Rocky,” she said. “We’re family now.”
Beau Lee smiled. “All right,” he said, then shut the door.
The SUV pulled away, and news crews clambered to snap more photos.