Retrial
FictionA news reporter peeks over her shoulder, looking for the arrival of the car. Her cameraman, hurriedly, sets up his equipment. Other reporters also keep vigil for the car. “Here it comes,” someone shouts.
Police officers march to reinforce the metal barriers, in place to keep the crowd from violating the passage. As the car rolls closer, the reporter tells the cameraman, “wait until it stops before I do my thing.”
“Okay Jane.”
Jane practices her stature so to be studious for her viewers. The car stops, more officers dash to it to protect the Prisoner. “Convicted of killing his wife and children, ages nine to fifteen, has arrived for his retrial granted from an appeal,” Jane says.
The Prisoner, handcuffed with a chain attached to ankle cuffs, gets help from his lawyers exiting the car. Because the crowd expresses their displeasure of the event, the escorting officers encourage the entourage to hurry into the courthouse. Jane says, “The judge has disallowed cameras in the courtroom so this reporter will report the procedures by a relay systems of reporters already in the courtroom.”
The surprise witness is an elderly women, with spirit and shows self reliance.
“Do you know the defendant”? The Prosecutor asks.
“I never met him.”
“Not even in your church?”
“Not in my church.”
“Okay, lets go back to the supposed driver that you said you saw the morning of the crime.”
“I didn’t image it, sir.”
“Please, tell the court what you saw.”
“It was early morning; I was driving to the next town to a sale in the other town; I saw the man about to drive onto the roadway from the driveway.”
The Prosecutor recalls that the crime scene investigators did discover tire tracks that did not match the family car but they determined that they were from a driver using the driveway to make u-turn since the two lane road being too narrow to make such a maneuver.
“You saw the driver?” He asks.
“Yes sir, I did. He was a bald headed white with a dirty red beard and it was sort of long,” she says.
“That’s a good description for someone to see from a car that drives at the roadway’s speed limit of forty-five miles per hour.”
“I wasn’t going forty-five miles per hour. I was driving at my normal speed of twenty-five miles per hour. That’s why I don’t use the highway or the interstate. I got a ticket once.”
“Why didn’t you come forth during the first trial?”
“I seen him and his family on outings in the town and they didn’t look to be putting on a show of being in love and happy to be together. I never thought for a minute that the last jury could even believe he did such a horrible thing to his family.”
“Lets go back to that driver, now, is it possible that the driver, finding himself, going the wrong way on the road, decides to use that particular driveway as a means to make a u-turn since the roadway is too narrow to do so.”
“To do that. sir, he had to go onto the driveway and then back out onto the lane he wants, like I seen people do, but that man was leaving the driveway head lights first.”
“I’ll ask you again, why did you come forth now?”
“I thought that the whole mess was finish until I read in the newspaper that his lawyer was asking for a retrial before something was not told to him.”
The Prosecutor recalls that the strange tire track was not in the discovery package and the defense got a witness from that failure.
“MY conscious bothered me,”she says. “So, I spoke to my pastor and he advised me to follow my thoughts so I went to that lawyer.” She points.
The jury deliberated for two and then the judge read the not guilty on all counts verdict, that was before the retrial, guilty on with a sentence of five no parole life terms to be served consecutively.
With a microphone attached to a recorder, strapped onto his shoulder, a reporter manages to get close to the Freed Man to asks him, “did you kill you family?” He looks at her in a condescending manner, with a devilish but victorious smile, and says, “yes I did.” “Can you repeat that?” she asks. Because, the Freed Man knows that double jeopardy applies in his case, he says,”I killed them because I needed a new life.” The reporter allows other reporters to get his attention. Her free hand stealthy slides into her jacket pocket. She steps closer to the Freed Man and then in a swift motion her hand leaves the pocket. The Freed Man stares at a detective sergeant’s gold badge. “You’re not getting a new life,” she shouts. “What is this?” He asks. Other detectives reintroduce him to the shackles. A detective gives his lawyer a thick envelope. “What’s this?” He asks. “Read it and find out,” detective says. The Prisoner asks, “What is going on?” THe Prosecutor says. “The appeal was a game, a lie, to catch a murderous liar.”