Hey Guys,
Thank you again to everyone that has read and reviewed so far. I appreciate the kind words. Into the home stretch with this one, maybe 3 or 4 chapters to go.
Hope you all enjoy the chapter.
Chapter Eleven
August 28th
Jim stood up, adjusting his suit jacket as he walked to the middle of the court room, conscious of the eyes on him. It was easier here, easier to push aside his doubts, easier to ignore his feelings and concentrate on the job, on the case, on the facts.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." He paused for a second, letting his gaze wander down the jury, smiling back at the ones who smiled at him. "What we have here is a very simple case."
Then he swivelled, sharply on his heel, stabbing his finger at Joanna Rossi, taking malicious delight in her involuntary flinch. "This woman, Joanna Rossi, shot her husband with an illegally acquired weapon, then, with assistance from her son, she tried to cover up the crime."
"This woman, Joanna Rossi, murdered her husband."
He turned away from her, walking back towards the jury. "Those are the facts, ladies and gentlemen. Her son bought a weapon, she used it to kill her husband and then they both lied to police."
He walked back to his own table, lifting the bagged gun carefully, holding it up for the jury to see. "We have the weapon. We have statements from the detectives and CSIs who investigated the crime. We have forensic evidence that proves that Joanna Rossi pulled the trigger."
He put the gun down, fighting against the urge to wipe his hands on his pants leg, turning quickly away from Jessica's accusing, hate filled glance.
"Those are the facts, ladies and gentlemen. Simple as that." He flung out an arm, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the defence table. "The defence will try and cloud the issue, try and muddy the waters. Don't let them. Don't let them blind you. Thank you."
He walked back to his table, conscious now only of the hate in her eyes, the look of betrayal on her face. He sat down, taking a long drink of water, his throat suddenly dry, her eyes burning through him.
How could he do this to her?
How could he?
xxxXXXxxx
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." Julie against the edge of the jury box, favouring them all with an easy smile. "The People have told you it's a very simple case. And they're right. It is a simple case."
"What we have here is a case of self defence."
Her eyes roamed across the jury, lingering on a few, making sure that they had followed her words and her argument.
"What we have here is a woman, physically and emotionally abused by her husband, by the one person who was supposed to protect her. Can you imagine that, ladies and gentlemen?"
"What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is not a cold blooded killer who tried to deceive police. What we have here is a wife pushed too far by a man who was supposed to love and honour her. A mother who panicked and let her son protect her."
She looked around the jury, relieved to see a few heads nodding in agreement, doubt painted openly across other faces.
"It is a simple case, but its not as simple as the People would have you believe. There are reasons and factors beyond the basic facts. Don't be afraid to look for them. Thank you."
She turned and walked back to her table, a slight smile twisting her lips as she passed Jim Steele.
It wasn't about the facts. It was about the feelings.
It was always about the feelings.
xxxXXXxxx
August 10th
"…and my mom just sits there and accepts everything he does to her." Jess stopped, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry Nick. I didn't mean to dump all this shit on you."
Shit. When was she going to learn? People didn't care, weren't interested in her problems, in how fucked up her family was.
"It's okay." Nick shrugged, his voice muffled by a mouthful of hotdog. "Makes a nice change from worrying about how screwed up my own family is."
"Yours too?"
"All families are screwed up. Its in the description somewhere. Some are just more screwed up than others. So, what are you going to do about your mom?"
"I don't know." She shrugged, reluctant to think about it. "I keep hoping that she's going to wake up and see what a scumbag he is, but…" She shrugged again. "Can we talk about something else? It's too nice a day to worry about this shit!"
"Sure."
Why was it so easy to talk to him and so hard to talk to Jim?
xxxXXXxxx
August 28th
"The People call Detective John Clarke Jnr."
A low mumble rolled through the court as he walked to the stand. The court reported scrambled forward, holding a Bible in his hand. Clarke hastily placed his hand on it, raising the other in the air.
"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
"I do."
Jim took a final glance at his notes and stood up, his footsteps echoing around the suddenly still court room. "Can you state your name and occupation for the record, please?"
"John Clarke Junior. I'm a New York City Detective, currently attached to the 15th Detective Squad."
"Are you one of the primary detectives on the Joseph Rossi homicide?"
"I am."
Jim nodded, walking across to the jury box and leaning against it, distracting the jury from the whispered conversation between Joanna Rossi and the second chair. "Can you tell the court what happened on August 18th?"
XxxxXXXxxx
August 18th 2000
"Shooting, 93rd and B." Lt. Sipowicz waved the note paper in the air. "Jones, you and Junior are catching."
"Great." Baldwin took the note out of Sipowicz's thick fingers, scanning it rapidly. "And I had plans for tonight as well."
"Cancel them."
Baldwin sighed and stood up, lifting his jacket as Junior came out of the locker room. "Come on, partner, we got a call."
"What? Where?"
"Shooting, 93rd and B."
"And I wanted to watch the game tonight."
xxxXXXxxx
Clarke ducked under the tape, fixing his shield to his jacket, eyes flicking around, darting across the body, lying slumped in the middle of the room.
"Detectives!"
"Officer Shannon." Clarke tucked his hands into his pockets. "What have we got?"
"Victim's name is Joseph Rossi. Shot from close range." Shannon pointed at a closed door with his pen. "Family is in the spare room."
"We got a weapon yet?" Baldwin spoke softly, his voice rumbling through the still room.
"Just waiting on CSI to get here to start the search."
"Who called it in?"
"A neighbour." Shannon glanced at his notebook. "Mrs. Ashton."
"I'll talk to her." Baldwin turned and ducked back underneath the tape.
"Where's the family?"
"Spare room. Through there."
"Great." Clarke ran his hand through his hair and walked carefully across the room. He knocked on the door and pushed it open, revealing a small, sparsely furnished room. An obviously distraught woman sat on the bed, a young man standing beside her, his arm around her shoulders. "Mrs. Rossi, I'm Detective Clarke…"
"It was me…." The young man interrupted him. "I shot him."
xxxXXXxxx
August 28th
"Thank you, Detective Jones." Jim sat back down behind his table, making another note on the case file. Both Clarke and Jones had told basically the same story, reinforcing the case against Joanna Rossi.
Julie remained seated, silent for another moment, allowing the tension and nerves to grow in the court room. Jim found himself shifting nervously, impatiently in his seat.
What the hell was she up to?
"How long have you been attached to the 15th?"
She didn't stand up didn't look up.
"About four years, ma'am."
"Four years. In those four years, Detective have you investigated any complaints against Joseph Rossi?"
"No, ma'am."
"No? What about your colleagues?"
"I don't know."
Finally she stood up, pacing around the table, before turning to face the jury. "You don't know?"
"No, ma'am."
"Did you check? See if there were any complaints against Mr Rossi? See if his name raised any flags?"
"No, ma'am."
"So you didn't know that the 11th Squad had received a complaint against him, made by the defendant, just three months ago?"
Baldwin opened his mouth, but Jim beat him to it. "Objection. Asked and answered."
"Sustained. Stay on topic, Ms. Phelps."
"Did you investigate him? Talk to his friends, associates, co workers?"
"No, ma'am."
She turned to face him, catching him with dark eyes. "Why not?"
Detective Jones shrugged, uncomfortable under that burning gaze. "It seemed to be an open and shut case. We had a confession and forensic…."
"So neither you nor your partner actually investigated this case?"
"Objection!" Jim sprang to his feet. "Inflammatory."
"Withdrawn." Julie sneered at Baldwin, before turning away. "I have no more questions for this witness."
End of Chapter Eleven
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