I gaze at the twelve people sitting in the jury box. How in the hell am I going to make this work?
Tony leans over and whispers, "This is a jury of my peers?"
"It would appear so," I answer, not looking at him.
It's not the jury I want, but then I have never met an attorney who's gotten the dream jury. This jury, however, is almost the exact jury I’ve had nightmares about.
There are eight women and four men. All eight women have children, six of them with kids under the age of ten. Young mothers who can relate to the victim. Will see the photos the prosecution puts up depicting a woman with her children. A woman struck down in her prime. A mother who will never see her children grow up. And they will ache for her.
The men are older, married, but with grown children. Fathers with daughters—daughters the same age as the victim. And all they will see is their precious baby girl lying in a pool of blood. And they will want my client to pay.
The entire jury looks at my client with eyes narrowed, scowls on their faces, and I fear they've already convicted Tony before any evidence has been presented.
Court breaks for lunch. Opening arguments will start in the afternoon session, and I have one last opportunity to go through my first opportunity to speak about my client to the jury. Alex and I planned on an intimate lunch at a French restaurant around the corner from the courthouse during the noon break, but I need to rework my opening statement to conform to the lopsided jury. Alex makes arrangements to bring the French delicacies to the office.
"I didn't realize that restaurant had carryout," Lisa says.
Alex smiles, and I roll my eyes, saying, "You'd be amazed at what people will do to accommodate Alex Stone."
I give him credit, though. He doesn’t interfere with my prep, spending the rest of the hour sitting quietly as I furiously write on my legal pad going over the new soliloquy in my head and trying to commit it to memory.
We walk back to the courthouse together, and Alex finds a seat in the gallery toward the back. Knowing he is there provides an added burst of confidence. I know he supports me, but lately, I have come to understand that he also respects me. Respects what I do.
I know we have a long way to go, and so many things to learn about each other, experiences that will make or break us, but at the moment, I’m secure in who I am and what I need to do for my client. And some of that strength comes from Alex.
The cameras are all up in the courtroom. The first two rows of the gallery are filled with men looking through lenses, adjusting and readjusting, to get the perfect shot of my client being brought into the courtroom. People in suits, some flipping through notepads, others typing on electronic tablets, a visual snapshot of old school meeting the way forward in journalism. And, suddenly, involuntarily, I am thrust into a legal soap opera.