Page 10 of One of Us Is Guilty

This was what I wanted to discuss with the city’s defense lawyer, Shilton. So far, he’d refused all invitations to settlement discussions. I wanted to make one last effort. Before the judge came in.

As I got up, I patted the tall pile of law books I’d arranged on the left side of the defense table and approached Shilton. He was a young guy with a long career screwing people over ahead of him. He stood, with a sour look on his plain face. Tall, slim and pale, I formed the impression he spent his evenings laughing at TikTok videos of law enforcement officers beating up members of the public.

‘You don’t want to try this case – trust me. We can settle now on favorable terms for everyone. Twenty-five grand in damages for Errol, no admission of liability and we seal the agreement so there’s no bad publicity for the city. Oh, and one more thing: Gennaro has to lay off Errol. I want the cops to leave him and his family alone.’

Shilton’s voice was high and shrill, as if he’d skipped puberty. ‘You’re out of your mind, Flynn. I know you’ve got the nightwatchman waiting outside to testify, but you’re forgetting he was held at gunpoint for four hours, he was coming off a fourteen-hour shift and he was too damn tired and traumatized to remember what he told the cops. Gennaro has his notebook entry that corroborates his recollection of the nightwatchman’s description of the perp, and of course that description matched your client. Did the nightwatchman write down the description he gave to officer Gennaro? No.If he didn’t write it down that night, it didn’t happen.’

‘Gennaro altered the description in his notebook to match Errol after he arrested him. We all know what happened after that. He went back to the nightwatchman, said he’d found the robber, a real nasty guy who had to be taken off the streets, and showed the nightwatchman Errol’s picture. But what Gennaro didn’t envisage was the nightwatchman being a stand-up guy and resisting the pressure Gennaro put on him to identify Errol. Look, twenty-five grand won’t break the city’s bank just . . .’

‘Did the nightwatchman write down, at the time, the description he gave to Gennaro? No. I already told you,if he didn’t write it down it didn’t happen. There’s no way to beat that argument in court.’

‘I won’t have to,’ I said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I won’t have to make any arguments. I don’t need to give an opening statement to the jury, I don’t even have to ask a single question. I’m going to win this case without saying a goddamn word. I’ve got the law on my side,’ I said, and pointed at the tall stack of law books.

‘Good luck with that,’ said Shilton.

I went back to the defense table, sat beside Errol. He had turned around in his seat to talk to his family. His wife, Shavawn, and his grandma, who had simply been introduced to me as ‘Grandma’, like she was everyone’s grandma, sat behind the defense table in the gallery.

Errol looked worried. Grandma gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

At that moment the judge came into court, we all stood to greet her and then she ushered in the jury as we settled back in our seats.

I opened a page of discovery in the case. A photocopy of Gennaro’s notebook. Of course, the app hadn’t been working, so he reverted to hard copy. The handwriting was neat and unhurried.

The page number of the notebook on the bottom left-hand corner said 59 in bold letters. I’d issued a subpoena for the real notebook to be brought to court. I didn’t have the right to examine it, just for it to be produced in court. Shilton had sent me a copy of the entry relevant to Errol’s case – page 59. I wasn’t entitled to look at anything else in that notebook because it would contain notes on other police calls.

This was a dilemma that the law couldn’t get around. I had a good idea how Gennaro made the false entry recording Errol’s description instead of the real description given by the nightwatchman, but I couldn’t prove it without the notebook.

But I wasn’t entitled to see it, by law.

Shilton rose and made his opening statement to the jury, telling them that if they believed Officer Gennaro, and his contemporaneous note of the description given by the nightwatchman, then this amounted to lawful probable cause for the arrest. He called Patrolman Gennaro to the stand.

The rear doors of the courtroom opened, and a policeman in uniform entered. Gennaro was smaller than Shilton, and much rounder. He was one of those guys who looked like a human bulldog. A ball of muscle and fat, with no neck and a red complexion.

His notebook was clutched tightly in his meaty left hand.

To get to the witness stand, Gennaro had to walk down the central aisle that divided the public seating, go through the pinewood gate that separated the lawyers from the public and then pass between the defense and prosecution tables.

As Gennaro passed by, I leaned back in my chair, stretched out my legs.

My left ankle caught Gennaro’s right foot, and he reached out his hands to save himself as he went down, face first.

‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry,’ I said as I leapt to my feet, maybe too fast, and as I dashed to help Gennaro, I knocked over the fifteen or so law books I had piled on my table.

The heavy books clattered to the floor around Gennaro. I grabbed his left arm, helped him to his feet.

He had turned a brighter red, with embarrassment.

‘Are you okay? God, I’m so sorry,’ I said.

‘Fine,’ he said, shrugging off my helping hand. He bent down and picked up the notebook from the floor, and then took the stand and the witness oath while I retrieved my books and put them on the defense table.

Shilton took a second to let Gennaro get settled in the witness stand, then began.

‘The jury are well aware of the issues in this trial. It is our case that you recorded a description from the nightwatchman, and that description matched the defendant. Let’s get straight to the heart of this matter. Do you have youroriginalcontemporaneous note of the description provided to you at the scene of the burglary by the nightwatchman?’