Read Online False Testimony by Rose Connors - Free Book Online

and exhales slowly, “let’s talk about this particular case.”
    She shifts in her chair, adjusts her pocketbook.
    “You understand, don’t you, that this matter has nothing to do with the child-abuse scandal we’ve heard so much about lately?”
    She nods.
    “And you understand there’s no child involved here?”
    “I do,” she says. “I realize that.”
    “So even though you’re angry with the Catholic Church—as many people are—do you think you’d be able to put your anger aside if you were chosen to sit on this panel? Would you be able to base your decision solely on the evidence presented in the courtroom?”
    She frowns, doesn’t answer. Like Mr. Harmon, she seems to be giving it real thought. “I suppose so,” she says at last.
    Geraldine looks at each of us, then rolls her green eyes to the ceiling. Fat chance, she telegraphs.
    “Thank you, Mrs. Rowlands,” the judge says. “You may return to your seat in the jury box now.”
    She stands to leave and Clarence opens the chambers door for her. Geraldine begins her argument before it’s shut. “Meyers and Rowlands,” she says. “For cause.”
    “Harmon,” Harry counters. “For cause.”
    “Meyers is out,” the judge answers. “The other two stay.”
    “But, Judge,” Harry argues, “Harmon thinks the dead guy walked on water. He’s not going to be able to put that aside. I don’t care what he says.”
    The judge shakes his head. “He said he would and I believe him. He went to one Mass two years ago. It’s not enough.”
    “But Rowlands,” Geraldine says. “She’s already made up her mind about every Catholic priest. She told us so.”
    “She also told us she’d decide this case on the evidence presented, nothing else.” Judge Gould stands and gathers his papers. We’re done in here, it seems.
    Harry and Geraldine both start in again, but the judge heads for the door. “If you feel that strongly,” he says to both of them, “use a peremptory.”
    Nobody’s happy. Geraldine storms out behind Judge Gould, Clarence in her wake. Harry gives my shoulder a little squeeze as he passes, his expression grim. Each side will be allowed just three peremptories at the conclusion of voir dire, three opportunities to oust a juror for no stated reason. No lawyer wants to waste a peremptory on a candidate who should be bounced for cause.
    The judge is already on the bench by the time Harry and I reach our table. “Mrs. Meyers,” he says, donning his glasses, “you are excused. Please report to the clerk’s office for further instructions.”
    She stands and leaves the jury box, heads for the center aisle.
    “And Mrs. Meyers…”
    She stops and turns, looks up at Judge Gould. “Thank you,” he says. She nods and continues her retreat.
    “Mr. Harmon and Mrs. Rowlands,” the judge says, “you may return to your seats in the gallery.”
    They both look somewhat surprised as they leave the box and head for the benches. I don’t blame them. Impartiality is a slippery concept. And jury selection is a far cry from an exact science.
    Dottie Bearse stands behind her desk, holding what looks like a small fishbowl. She draws consecutive slips of paper from it, reading a name from each, and one by one, fourteen potential jurors file into the box. Harry takes three blank sheets of legal-size paper from his file and hands two of them to me. Holliston looks hostile when I pass one to him with a pen. “It gets hard to keep them all straight after a while,” I explain to him. “You might want to jot down their names and seat numbers.”
    His stare suggests I just asked him to draft a doctoral thesis in quantum physics. I turn away from him and face Dottie, who’s delivering copies of the selected jurors’ questionnaires to both tables. I divide my sheet into fourteen squares, each with a seat number, and fill in their names, ages, and occupations as the judge asks them all the boilerplate questions. Does anyone work for law enforcement or