Not one of them knew the real story, but me. The whole jury could have probably cared less about this case; they were just regular people trying to do their civic duty. None of them understood that they had in fact named a guilty man innocent.
Meeting Ed Campbell, my attorney, just before court, I could see how relaxed he was about this. Ed Campbell was an outstanding lawyer, involved in many more “difficult” cases than this one, but because his father, Mr. Campbell, employed me, this case had a personal interest.
As he shook my hand, I could feel a wad of money being shoved into my palm. I knew what this was meant to do, to make me stay silent. He gives me the nod, pats me on the back, and speedily walks away into the court.
I follow.
The case began.
“All rise. The court is now in session.”
I straightened up a little; this was my first time in court. The judge stood in his high, wooden chair, rising above us like we were little ants in a play.
Blinking out of my trance, I noticed that the plaintiff’s attorney, or to be more precise Fitz Albert’s attorney, was now making his opening statement.
“The facts of the case are these: On September 17, 2016, at 9:00 PM, Chris Davis arrived at the Smiths’ loading center. Even though he was expected to deliver 100 pounds of meat, as agreed to by my client Mr. Albert, he brought no meat. These are the facts, and they are undisputed. Chris and his fancy man Ed are going to pull some magic, twist the story, but at the end of the day, Fitz is missing 100 pounds of meat, because of the very fact that Chris drove 720 miles with an empty load.”
“Counselor Campbell,” the judge begins.
I felt a little better since Ed was my lawyer and he had always protected me, but I was still scared of how the jury was going to react to Fitz’s statements.
Ed stood up, his black loafers gleaming in the sun. His shoulders back, his head high, he reminded me of a rock in a storm.
“Your Honor, members of the jury, if this was about right or wrong, the company would have sought Mr. Davis’s dismissal. But they didn’t. Instead they accused Mr. Davis because the company wanted him to name the conspirators, the people that wanted this company to fail, but he couldn’t, because they do not exist. They do not exist because he didn’t steal anything.”
Campbell returned to his seat.
“Will the prosecution call its first witness?”
“Yes, Your Honor, I call to the stand Fitz Albert.”
Fitz’s blond hair was messy; his white button-down shirt was barely tucked in, peeking through the suit. His face faced the ground.
As he was being sworn in, I could feel my hands start to sweat. I knew he had no evidence against me, but that wasn’t what troubled me. We had always been good friends. He had covered up for me when I failed to deliver meat on time. I had always been jealous of him, especially when he got promoted last year and I didn’t, but he continued to encourage me during tough times nonetheless, which made it even harder to hold a grudge.
However, this year, I really couldn’t keep on supporting my family with the income from one job so I knew I had to get another. Ed Campbell, one of my old friends, and now my lawyer, had introduced me to his father, Mr. Campbell, who offered me work as one of his agents. I was so desperate that I signed and vowed for this new job to remain a secret. He trained me, and I had to work hard. He was quite demanding at times but he always protected me, paid me well, and made sure that his work didn’t conflict with the Smiths’.
But this time, one of his tasks for me coincided with the truck delivery date. I had continued to work at the truck company to give myself a cover story for all the time that I was gone working for Ed’s father. Mr. Campbell told me that he was going to have one of his men cover for me and that was good enough. What I didn’t know was that person did not intend on bringing the meat; he broke the lock and stole the meat right from the truck, selling it to a nearby restaurant. Of course, Mr. Campbell wanted me to cover for the stolen meat, making me buy a new lock that would open with any code.
I did it, which got Fitz in trouble. The manager, who was also having financial insecurities, decided to have Fitz accuse me of stealing, in an attempt to earn back the money that the meat would have brought in.
Bringing my mind back to the courtroom, I could hear Fitz talking louder. He was growing angrier, his face tightening.
“I opened the metal lock and there was no meat inside. That’s when I knew that Chris stole the meat.”
Fitz’s lawyer took a seat heavily.
“The Defense may cross examine the witness,” the judge said.
I prayed to myself, “Ask some good questions, Ed.”
“Did Chris know the combination to the lock?” Campbell asked.
“No, I do not believe so,” he replied.
“Is there a way to enter the meat compartment from the front of the truck?”
“No,” Fitz said, now realizing where Campbell was going with this.
“That is all, Your Honor.” Ed gave a small smirk, just for me, before walking back to his seat.
As the truck loader gave his testimony, I suddenly was reminded of the time Fitz and I played basketball together. We had been the new recruits and at Smiths the tradition was to play a game of hoops to welcome the new hires. Fitz and I with half of the management were a team, while the other half made up the other team. Near the end of the game, we were almost tied. The opposing team included the president of Smiths, so I wanted to show him that I was a good addition all around. I reached over and changed the score slightly to make it seem that we were winning. No one paid much attention but Fitz; he saw. He knew but he kept his mouth shut.
Later, as I was thinking about the game, I wondered: what made me do it? I always thought of myself as an honest individual with good morals, and that game was just for fun.
Was I really desperate enough to cheat just to brag a little? And what was I willing to do to achieve a bit of pride?
Coming out of my thoughts, I realized that in a matter of moments, it would be my turn to testify. I trudged over to the bench.
“Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” the bailiff asked monotonously.
“I do,” I answered stiffly. My hands had begun to sweat, but if I thought I had made any suspicious movements, the members of court had paid no attention. The bailiff glanced right past me. Only Ed stared through me; he could see so easily past the face He nodded and mouthed, “Keep your face, I’ll keep mine.” I could hear the voice.
Ed started asking his questions. “Tell from your point of view what happened on the day of September 17, 2016.”
My hands were practically shaking as I spoke, “That morning, I had arrived to pick up the meat, but since I only was wearing short-sleeves, it was extremely cold for me, so I didn’t go outside as usual.
However, I heard the loader push the cart to and from my truck. When he closed the doors, I took that as my sign to leave.”
“Chris Davis, in all your time working at the Smiths’, has a situation like this occurred before, or have you driven in with less than the full requisition of meat?”
“No.”
“Have you ever been in an accident on the road?”
“No.”
“Have you ever taken a day of sick leave?”
“No.”
“Always arrived at work on time?”
“Yes.”
“Members of the jury, Chris Davis has always been an exemplary employee and shows all the characteristics of someone who works hard and does his job. In his eight years working here, he never has taken a day off. Don’t you think if he was going to steal something, he would have done it earlier? But he didn’t steal anything, and he has no reason to steal anything.”
My socks were soaked by the time I returned to my seat. The jury had already left and I couldn’t think straight. Was it worth it lying and getting Fitz in trouble, just so I could keep the truck job, hide Ed’s deception, and not spend a few nights in jail?
Now, I was not so sure.
I watched the jury file back into the courtroom, trying to decipher their faces.
“Have you reached a verdict?”, the judge boomed.
“We have, Your Honor.”
I held my breath.
“We, the jury, in this case, find the defendant not guilty of the charge of stealing 100 pounds of meat. We do not think there is any proven evidence of this being so.”
I let out my breath, closed my eyes, and rested for the first time in two weeks.
“Thank you, Jury, for your service today. Court is adjourned.” He banged the gavel.
As we walked toward the back of the courtroom, I could see the manager looking furiously at Fitz. Since the company was already struggling, this would push them further into debt. Suddenly, I didn’t feel like I won the case anymore; Fitz had done nothing wrong. Just before the exit, I pulled out the money Ed had paid me just before the court went into session; the dirty green paper rubbed against my fingers. Quickly I shoved the bills into Fitz’s hands.
I shifted away. I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my head. He knew, but I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t say anything.
I was wrong this time.
“You’re a horrible basketball player,” Fitz yelled from behind.
Yeah I am.
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