WE SIT TOGETHER AS JUDGES
• JUDGE FRIED INSTRUCTS THE JURY.
• THE JURY DELIBERATES THE FATE OF JOE CHEN.
TIME: WEDNESDAY. APRIL 29, 1998; 1:30 P.M.
PLACE: A RESTAURANT IN CHINATOWN
“I think juries are terrific,” Judge Fried says during the lunch break. “They have a collective intelligence that is better than any of us who try cases. They give up their own time to perform a very important civic duty. It’s right up there with voting and serving in the military.”
Judge Fried likens a trial to baking a cake. “You need all the ingredients to bake a cake. If you leave one out, no cake. This is true of a criminal trial as well. Sometimes a crime has two ingredients; other times, more. For example, a murder has two ingredients. Ingredient one, the person intended to cause the death of another human being. Ingredient two, the person did indeed cause the death. In American law you have to prove both ingredients beyond a reasonable doubt to get a guilty verdict. If you can’t, the defendant is found not guilty.”
JURY CHARGE
Back in court, Judge Fried describes the general principles of all criminal cases to the jury. The jurors listen carefully as the judge, standing by his raised desk (the bench), begins his instruction.
You have agreed, under oath, to accept without hesitation, and without reservation, the principles that I am about to state. I expect you will adhere to the oath that you have taken, or else there will not be a fair trial.
Three jurors nod their heads in agreement. The judge pauses to gaze at his jury, his admirable jury, who have listened so patiently, so carefully, for three long weeks.
We sit together as judges. You are the sole and exclusive judge of the facts. You should decide this case coolly, calmly, deliberately, without fear, without favor, without sympathy. It is your sworn duty to decide the guilt or nonguilt of this defendant, based on the evidence—and solely on the evidence—that you heard and saw during the course of this trial, and for no other reason.
Leemie and Glenn do not interrupt the judge’s talk. That would be considered much too discourteous. Besides, they’ve already reviewed, edited, and approved these instructions.
Judge Fried explains that the jurors may not engage in guesswork or speculation. They may not consider anything outside of the evidence. They may not play detective. All the testimony struck from the record must be “totally, completely, and wholly disregarded.”
The jurors must decide for themselves just how believable each witness is. The judge suggests a number of commonsense guidelines: the witness’s knowledge of the facts, their motive for testifying, their intelligence, their education. “Ask yourself a series of questions: Did the witness appear to be neutral and trustworthy, friendly, frank, and reliable? Did the witness appear to be hostile, prejudiced, or reveal a reason not to tell the truth?”
THE PRESUMPTION OF INNOCENCE
The judge says that the presumption of innocence applies to every single criminal case tried in this country. “You must keep it in mind throughout your deliberations. The presumption of innocence exists in this room at this very moment, and it will accompany you into the jury room. The only way it can be destroyed is by all of you agreeing, based on the evidence, and for no other reason, that the defendant is guilty, and that he has been proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.”
He also reminds the jury that they “may not draw any unfavorable conclusions from the fact that the defendant did not testify.” They must disregard this fact entirely.
* * *
Pausing to sip water, the judge invites the jury to stand and stretch before he moves into the actual charges against Joe Chen.
Once the jurors are settled back in their seats, the judge reviews the particular charges against the defendant. Legal definitions come into play: “abduct,” “physical injury,” “serious physical injury,” “ransom.”
THE CHARGES:
1. Kidnapping:
a. Joe Chen abducted the two victims with the intent to compel a third person to pay ransom.
b. Joe Chen held them for more than twelve hours with the intent to inflict physical injury on them.
2. Grand larceny in the second degree: Joe Chen stole their property by extortion.
The only voice is that of the judge. Everyone else is silent, attentive to his every word. The awesome power of the law, the awesome power of twelve citizens deciding the fate of another human being, penetrates the room. You can feel it, taste it.
An hour goes by. The judge gives more definitions: “extortion,” “larceny,” “grand larceny.” It’s a lot to remember.
Finally Judge Fried describes how to deliberate the case. Although there are no hard-and-fast rules, common sense should prevail. Jurors should give their opinion, but listen to the others as well. Since they have not been permitted to take notes, testimony must be read back to them. The forewoman will send the judge a note (there is a buzzer in the room) listing what they want to hear. Then Leemie and Glenn will go through the trial’s transcript and mark pages and lines for the court stenographer to read. The jury cannot read the transcripts themselves because then they would see all the sidebar discussions that are either not relevant or could prejudice their deliberations.
“When you have a verdict, send me a note,” the judge tells them. “Don’t tell me what the verdict is. We’ll bring you into the courtroom.”
When the jurors are escorted into the jury room to begin their deliberation, Leemie sighs, “That’s it. It’s truly in their hands.”
The wait begins. Glenn paces up and down the center aisle, constantly checking his beeper. Leemie does not move at all. Some of her colleagues drop by, squeeze her hand, and offer an empathetic smile. She says that she feels numb. Everyone waits. Everyone wonders: What is happening inside the jury room?
INSIDE THE JURY ROOM
The jury room is a small, windowless space that looks like a conference room in a slightly seedy office. The jurors sit around a large, battered conference table. The forewoman begins by asking for initial reactions. Everyone is hesitant; no one wants to talk first.
“As far as I’m concerned, Joe Chen is guilty on all counts,” an elderly woman says, opening the discussion. “I feel bad for his parents.” Four others raise their hands, agreeing.
Another woman, a great-grandmother, insists that he is innocent. A thirty-something, soft-spoken bearded man, who walks with a cane because of a ski accident, agrees with the great-grandmother. Not guilty. The prosecutor has not proven Joe Chen’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.
The forewoman thinks that Joe Chen was probably involved in the crime, but there isn’t enough evidence to find him guilty.
Five say guilty; four, not guilty. The rest are on the fence.
Eight P.M. No verdict. The jurors are driven to an undisclosed hotel somewhere in New York City. Four guards accompany them to insure that there is no jury tampering. Until they reach a verdict, they will live in a cocoon, as if they were the last people on Earth.
TIME: THURSDAY. APRIL 30. 1998; 9:25 A.M.
PLACE: JUDGE FRIED’S COURTROOM
The jurors send the judge a note. They want to hear Mr. Wang’s testimony about what happened when he entered the apartment.
Judge Fried dons his black robe and heads to the courtroom. Joe Chen, his translator, the lawyers, the court clerk, and the guards are already in place. After the note is read into the record, the lawyers go to work, marking each page, each line, with stickums.
If the lawyers cannot agree about what can be read, Judge Fried will review the material and make the decision for them. “I should tell you,” the judge warns the two lawyers, “I have a very expansive view of the readback. If the jurors want it, I tend to think they should get as much as we can give them.”
Meanwhile a second note arrives, with a long list of readbacks. Mary passes out cookies to lighten the pressure—and boredom. Everyone but Leemie, who has no appetite, and Joe Chen, who has fallen asleep in his chair, nibbles as they wait.
Noon. Judge Fried suggests that they bring in the jury and read back the finished sections.
Twelve-twenty P.M. The jury enters. “I have your notes, ladies and gentlemen,” says the judge cordially. “I apologize for what may seem to have taken longer than reasonable. The testimony is lengthy. We haven’t done everything, but we’ll give you what we have.”
As the court stenographer reads aloud the transcript, two women jurors nod their heads to each other in recognition of the statements. Back to the deliberations.
The lawyers have their lunches delivered to the courtroom. Leemie doesn’t touch her fruit salad. Glenn manages to get down half a meatball hero, but leaves french fries, onion rings, and a Coke.
Three-forty-five P.M. Two more notes. “We want to hear all the testimony about the dailo.”
Six-twenty-three P.M. Once back in the jury room, a juror announces, “The readback about the dailo clarifies it for me. Guilty.” Now there are six.
It’s a juror’s birthday. The forewoman sends Judge Fried a note asking to be dismissed early because they planned a birthday celebration. The judge, pleased that they are getting along well because it will help the deliberations go more smoothly, grants their request.
Another note: “Read-back testimony from both victims about the ransom money.” Then another readback. And so it goes, on and on and on.
No sooner do they return to the jury room than yet another a note comes out. “Have you answered all our written requests so far?”
The judge smiles. “Suppose I just take this and write the word ‘no’ and send it back. Any objection to that, counselors?”
No objection.
By now the jury is focusing on Joe Chen’s written statement. A juror later explains, “We were all very interested in his statement, because we never heard him speak.” They go through the document sentence by sentence.
“Look it,” a juror argues, “he actually says, ‘I was there when the first man was brought in.… I was there when the second man was brought in.’ What was he doing there?”
Another juror: “Now about that $8,000. How did he know that the closing amount was $8,000? When the second victim arrived, they asked for $10,000.”
Yet another juror: “Echo said, ‘I saw Joe Chen tell his brother to beat him up.’ That makes him a participant. It’s enough for me.”
Eighth vote, “Guilty.”
But the great-grandmother still says that Joe Chen is not guilty. No one can convince her to the contrary. Frustrated by the lack of consensus after two days, the birthday juror starts yelling. By now everyone is on edge, each is emotionally exhausted, and no verdict is in sight. The jurors adjourn for the party and another night at the motel.
TIME: FRIDAY; MAY 1, 1998; 10:30 A.M.
PLACE: JUDGE FRIED’S COURTROOM
The jury continues deliberating and the lawyers continue to mark the transcript for the readbacks. Joe Chen sits slumped in his chair.
Ten-thirty A.M. Another note. “We want to hear Johnny Ding’s testimony and anything that mentions the blindfolds.” They also want the definition of grand larceny in the second degree. Judge Fried brings them into the courtroom and explains grand larceny in the second degree. The jury goes back to their room. The lawyers return to marking Johnny Ding’s testimony.
Within minutes another note arrives.
The jury has reached a verdict.