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Closing arguments did not take that long. Dan sensed that everyone had said everything they had to say and the jury was ready to get on with it. Kilpatrick gave a predictable summation with no surprises. When it was Dan’s time to speak, he made a point of keeping it brief. He wanted the jurors to understand that he trusted them.
“When we began this trial together,” he said, “my worthy opponent said he wouldn’t lie to you. Well...I don’t know if he lied, but he definitely did not present the whole picture. I tried to give you a peek behind the curtain. I wanted you to understand what’s really going on here. And I think I exposed a few lies along the way—or misrepresentations, at the very least.
“My opponent also said he wouldn’t waste your time...and I didn’t. When I had no objection to the prosecution testimony, I kept my mouth shut. The only time I spoke was when I thought someone was trying to mislead you, which sadly happened far more often than it should. I let you hear from the accused, but I didn’t drag it out forever, because I thought you’d heard enough to reach a verdict. I think it must be clear to every one of you that someone wants my client out of the way.”
He paused, casting a glance first out to the gallery, where the entire Coleman family sat, then back to Kilpatrick, who appeared distinctly unhappy. “Who’s pulling the strings in this case? The DA? The police? The Coleman clan? Or some other powerful figure lurking behind the scenes? Fortunately, you don’t have to figure out that puzzle. All you have to do is decide whether my client has been proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. I don’t think this is a hard call. What evidence of guilt do you have? Ossie was in the wrong place at the wrong time, true, he’s admitted that. It gives him opportunity but hardly proves he acted upon it. The fingerprint evidence was not conclusive, the DNA evidence was not conclusive, and that syringe—don’t even get me started. The skeeziest of paid ratfinks finds exactly what the police want him to find and brings it to them. Sure. Nothing suspicious there, huh?” He shook his head. “They can’t even prove that syringe was used to kill the victim.”
He paced alongside the jury box. “Even if you believe that evidence was legit—so what? We don’t know how Harrison was killed, so the trace of what might be poison means nothing. Ossie explained there was a drug user in his house, and the prosecution did nothing to disprove that. Ossie’s name was scrawled on a mirror, but anyone could have done that—to frame Ossie for someone else’s crime. Yes, Ossie had a financial motive—but so did about half the people sitting in this courtroom. That isn’t proof. Frankly, ladies and gentlemen, I don’t even think you have a good reason to suspect Ossie—much less to convict him.”
He leaned hard against the rail. “Here’s what I know for certain. This case matters. It matters to you, to me, to everyone here today—and of course, to Ossie. You’ve been charged with an important—I would even say sacred—duty. You will probably never sit on a murder-trial jury again. I hope not, for your sake. You will remember this case for the rest of your life. You will be telling people about it for decades.” He tried to make eye contact. “Let’s make sure this story has the right ending, okay? One you can be proud of. Because this case will never let go of you. If you send an innocent man to the gallows—you will never shake that out of your soul. It will needle you and punish you till your dying day. Follow the judge’s instructions, please. Guilt has not been proven beyond a reasonable doubt.”
He knew he should probably end it there, but something compelled him to push just a little harder.
“You know—comes a time in all our lives when we have to decide who we are. Who we really are. Except maybe, maybe that’s about deciding who we want to be. What drives us. And maybe this is one of those defining moments for you—and for me. I’m not arguing this case because I need to—but because I want to. I didn’t represent Ossie because I had to. I did it because I could see he needed help, as we all do at one time or another. This young man was being treated wrongly, unfairly, with prejudice and contempt, and someone needed to do something about it. We live in complicated times, and now more than ever we all must be willing to take a stand and let our voices be heard.
“Now you need to decide who you want to be. Do you really believe this boy committed this atrocious crime? Did you ever? Or did you take one look at him and think—this doesn’t feel right? Cold-blooded murder? Brutal chemical dissolution of the body? This kid? When you heard that, didn’t some part of you think—I’m not going to be the kind of person who is manipulated by invisible fingers. When I can tell the fix is in, I’m not going along with it. I will resist. I will say the emperor has no clothes. I will rise and be counted. I will be the kind of juror who does what the judge asks, who looks at the evidence and says—this boy’s guilt has not been proven beyond a reasonable doubt. I will do that even if it brings scorn and condemnation. Because that’s who I am. Because that’s the person I want to be.”