Witness to a Trial Read Online Free PDF Page A

the casino on tribal land. They viewed gambling as nothing more than another white man’s curse, and they had narrowly won. Now, with Son dead and Junior on his way to prison, the tribe would vote again and the casino would be built. Prosperity was just around the corner, and this pleased the Chief. Perhaps in a few years the money could heal the divisions. With money they would build nice homes and fine schools, plenty of roads and parks and clinics, and every Tappacola would share in the wealth. The casino would lift them out of poverty and reunite his tribe. That was his dream.
    For now, though, the spectacle of Junior being prosecuted was heartbreaking. The Chief knew what all of his people knew. They could argue, fight, and hold grudges for decades, but the Tappacola did not kill one another.

12
    Larry Swoboda’s best moment of the trial came during his final summation. He told the jurors they had no choice but to believe Junior’s claims of innocence because he refused to avail himself of the most obvious defense. Swoboda posed a hypothetical: Any husband who walked in on his cheating wife would almost certainly be claiming that what followed was an act of rage, an act of passion, an irresistible impulse that could not be controlled. Such a defense has long been recognized in the criminal laws of our nation, and juries have often shown sympathy in those cases. The fact that Junior refused to claim that he had acted in a fit of temporary insanity meant only one thing: He did not catch and kill his wife and his friend.
    Junior was not conniving for his life and gaming the system; rather, he was simply telling the truth.
    —
    The Jurors.
Maybe. The defendant’s problem was that he had no proof. His alibi witnesses were not solid and convincing. He could claim he was drugged and framed and then victimized by planted evidence, but where was his proof?
    Indeed, all the evidence was lined up neatly in favor of the State.

13
    The jury deliberated for only four hours before returning with a unanimous verdict of guilty on both counts. There were no gasps or shrieks or groans from the spectators, no outbursts at the injustice, no smiles, only a few quiet tears from the Razko family and a few slumped shoulders from the Mace crowd. Junior absorbed the decision without flinching. Swoboda seemed to know it was coming. Wag and his gang hid smug little grins. The jurors were poker-faced, certainly not pleased but determined to finish their tasks.
    Only young Patrick was overcome, and he collapsed into the arms of his uncle Wilton.
    Judge McDover dismissed the jury with instructions to return promptly at nine the following morning, when the trial would resume with the sentencing phase. The issue of guilt had been settled. Next, the jury would determine either death or life without parole.
    —
    The Spectator.
He delayed a moment after adjournment, and as the crowd silently drifted out of the courtroom he watched them handcuff Junior and take him away. Delgado felt no sadness at all. No remorse. Just the opposite. Throughout his long career as a killer he had often wondered how thrilling it would be to pull off the perfect job, a job so incredibly well done that they convicted someone else. How cool would it be to watch the trial?
    At that moment, he had to admit that it was very cool. And the thrill was impossible to describe.

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