Antonelli - 03 - The Judgment Read Online Free PDF

has and how old they are. That’s all you need to know about them.’
    “It was the same with the next question, and the one after that. Nothing I asked was right; everything I asked was wrong.
    He interrupted me so often that I started to hesitate halfway through a question, waiting for him to do it again. He was making me look awkward, indecisive, someone who did not know what he was doing. He was making me look like a fool in front of the very people who had to trust me if I was going to have any chance to win. And he was doing it on purpose. Somehow, despite his constant badgering, his incessant corrections, I kept going. Then I asked the eighth juror the question I should have been asking all of them, the question I’ve asked every juror in every criminal case I’ve tried since: ‘Even if you’re convinced the defendant is probably guilty, will you still vote to return a verdict of not guilty if the state fails to prove that guilt beyond a reasonable doubt?’
    “Jeffries practically jumped out of his chair. ‘That question is not permissible. You are not allowed to ask a juror how they might vote on the ultimate issue in the case. You will not ask that question again, Mr. Antonelli. Not of this juror, nor of any other juror. Understand?’
    “It was late on the second day, Friday, and I had been beaten on long enough. I turned back to the same juror, and more slowly than I had before, asked the same question again.
    ” ‘This will be a good time to end for the day,’ Jeffries announced before an answer could be given. ‘We’ll resume Monday morning at nine-thirty.’
    “He waited until the last prospective juror left the courtroom.
    His eyes were cold as ice. ‘You were told not to do that. I told you that question was not allowable, and yet you immediately asked it again. You deliberately flouted the authority of this court, and I have no alternative but to hold you in contempt.’
    “I had expected it, and if the truth be told, had almost looked forward to it. I was in contempt, not of the court, however, but of him and the way he was trying to destroy my ability to put on a defense. I stared back at him and kept my silence.
    ” ‘I sentence you to three days in jail.’ He nodded toward the bailiff to take me away. ‘You can be released Monday morning, in time for the trial,’ he added as he gathered up his books and papers from the bench.
    ” ‘Your honor,’ I replied, trying to stop myself from screaming,
    ‘you can charge me with contempt, but I can’t be put in jail for it—not under these circumstances—unless I’m found guilty after a trial.’
    “He knew I was right, and we both knew it did not matter.
    The bailiff had his hand on my arm, warning me under his breath not to say another word, while Jeffries rose from the bench and disappeared into chambers.
    ” ‘He would have added more time,’ the bailiff explained. ‘I’ve seen him do it often enough before. You look cross-eyed at him, he throws the book at you.’
    “I was delivered to the county jail and learned what it was like to become one of those who no longer exist. They took my wallet, my watch, my car keys, everything I had in my pockets, and looked at me like I was crazy when I asked if I could keep my briefcase. Apparently concerned that I might use my tie either to strangle someone or hang myself, they made me give it to them. Then they took my fingerprints, grabbing each hand and pushing down on it as they rolled each fingertip onto the paper sheet. When that was done, I stood on a taped line, looking straight ahead into the camera, and then with a quarter turn, gave them my profile. They now had my prints, my photograph, and all the possessions I had brought with me. Most important of all, they had me, and I did not like it one bit.
    “I was a model of diplomacy and tact. When they finished processing me, one of the deputies grabbed my shoulder and shoved me ahead. I caught my balance and turned on him.
    ”