Page 94 of Courtroom Drama
“Think about it,” Kate (theOnly Murders in the Buildingone) states when Tamra is done speaking, completely disregarding her comments. “Margot finally got sick of him cheating on her, holding her business over her head, and figured it was her only way out after she had built a proper name for herself. She didn’t need him anymore. And knowing the eyes of the media would be on her, she convinced that Gloria to do it, so she would have a solid alibi.”
A few heads around the table nod. My throat constricts. This is far harder than I imagined. I think about my time at work, negotiating settlements between two angry parties, both of whom feel deeply wronged by the time they are seated in front of me. I’ve always thought I am goodat my job because I am the opposite of threatening or intimidating. I don’t try to strong-arm anyone into something they don’t want. IknowI’ve got negotiating skills, and that’s what this deliberation needs now.
“I think we’re losing sight of what’s important here,” I say, fingers gripping the table’s edge.
“What was that, Sydney?” Xavier asks. He hands me the banana.
I have the room’s full attention.
I better deliver.
I look around at each of the faces in the room. What does it say about them if they change their minds from what they’ve believed up to this point? That if they could be wrong about this, they could be wrong about other things, andthatis perhaps the scariest of realizations.
There isn’t enough time, nor do I have enough influence, to cause them to question themselves in this way. But I don’t need them to question themselves. I need them to question the prosecution’s case.
Looking at their weary faces, I think trial fatigue has pushed everyone so far that they mostly care about being done. About leaving this room and this case and moving on with their lives. About having an interesting story to tell about an experience others will never have access to. I can’t blame them, either.
“We have one charge, and that’s to determine if D.A. Stern has provenbeyond a reasonable doubtthat Margot murdered her husband. It is not to determine if it ispossibleor even if it isprobable, but to determine that there is enough evidence to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that she has done it.” I walk them through the case again, point by point. Is there a world where the theories of her guilt could be accurate? Sure. Of course. But I remind them again of Durrant Hammerstead’s words, knowing it’s the crux of our deliberations.Beyond a reasonable doubt.That is the standard that must be reached. And there is simply too much to doubt.
Cam interjects, “Yeah, but there’s too much evidence to simply ignore.”
“Nobody is saying to ignore it,” Tamra chimes in. “But we have to weigh that evidence against what we have been tasked with here.”
I nod as Cam seems at least momentarily mollified. “From the beginning of this trial,” I continue, riding the wave of adrenaline coursing through me, “we’ve been asked to see Margot as this... this insignificant simpleton plucked from obscurity, who had no capabilities beyond securing a wealthy husband to support her. But then we’re asked to believe that once she gained some prominence of her own and decided she didn’t need him anymore, she masterminded a plan to murder him without leaving any solid evidence behind.” A few heads nod around the table. “But which is it? Is she a naive, incapable woman who relied on Joe? Or is she a cunning manipulator capable of persuading an employee to murder her husband? How can she be both?”
Damon’s words from last night infiltrate my brain.Two things can be true.I shake the thought loose.
The eyes of the room still on me, I continue. “We have been repeatedly fed this archetype of the ‘black widow,’ a scandalous woman who leverages her sexual prowess to lure men in and then uses them to get what she wants. It’s tired, quite frankly. Which scenario is more plausible? And while much has been made of Joe choosing Margot, let’s not forget thatshealso chosehim. And when she did, she gave up a lot. She deferred to his career, his ambitions. She did all those things because she loved him. And the only thing she loved more than him are those kids.”
I reflect on my own mother, our complicated relationship. Her missteps and my lack of grace when it comes to her. What all of it might mean for Genevieve. “I can’t imagine a mother murdering her kids’ father, unless she believes that father will do them significant harm. Margot herself testified that Joe was a good father. Her face lit up when she said those things.” I shake my head. “There’s no way she would do that to her children.Especiallygiven her estrangement from her own parents.” I swallow hard. “And despite D.A. Stern’s unfounded insinuations, we’ve been given no actual indication of mental health concerns or extreme narcissism in this case, which would be the only logical reasons to commit such an act.”
Tamra nods, her eyes heavy but attentive.
Cam leans forward, elbows pressed against the table, hands clasped with sincere concentration. Even Stanley is focused on me, the most engagement he has shown the entire trial.
“But, even so, everything I have just stated is instinct. Opinion. If we intend to take a person’s freedom, we cannot simply rely on our gut instincts. There must beno reasonable doubtin our minds.
“Sure, it’s more interesting, exciting even, to think of her as this mastermind, as Tamra said. But the notion that we would destroy this woman’s life and further traumatize her children because some part of us desires the more salacious version of events, well, I know I couldn’t live with that. There is insufficient evidence to support the ‘more dramatic’ version of events. What we personally believe happened is irrelevant. The only question that matters,” I reiterate, “is did D.A. Sternprovethat Margot was directly responsible for Joe’s death,beyond a reasonable doubt?”
There’s weighted silence for a good two minutes, everyone avoiding eye contact with one another—except for the eye contact I force between myself and each juror, attempting to, through my unforgiving stare, imbue them each with the question I hope they are asking themselves. Was the case adequately made that Margot is responsible for Joe’s death, or is that what I want to believe happened because it’s more interesting?
People stare at the wall, at the table, at their notes, contemplating. I’ve done what I can to eliminate a near-impossible self-evaluation, placing the emphasis on D.A. Stern and the prosecution instead. My only hope here is that, while they may not be willing to admit to their own biases, theycanadmit a poor showing on D.A. Stern’s end.
There is one connection in the room—between Damon and me. It’s sharp and cutting. We stare at each other, his blue-green eyes stabbing at me with an intensity that creates a rush of instant heat along every inch of my skin. A lot is swirling in him. I break our connection first.
Xavier clears his throat after a long silence. “Should we... take another vote?”
There’s a line of nods around the room, some more confident than others. One by one, we voice our votes. Some hesitate, some don’t.
I am perhaps the most shocked person in the room as the vote proceeds.
Xavier raises his willful eyebrows as the room awaits the last vote. Damon gives his response, and I don’t know if his vote means he is confident or just done.
After it comes, Xavier clears his throat again, and I instinctively swallow. The weight of it all is lodged in my windpipe, too.
He rises from his seat, uncharacteristically timid. “I’ll...” He trails off, the heft of the last few minutes pressing on him. “I’ll let the guard know.”
45.
