Enduring conviction

Jury summons, and me about to depart for foreign shores. Why not just postpone until I'm no longer a resident of Marin County? Ah, but like as not the next summons, by mail, will get misplaced and I'll end up facing a contempt of court charge when I return. Better to get it out of the way...after all, what's the chance I'll be selected again?

And so I found myself impaneled. No DUI this time, rather a whole slew of felony charges, chief among them Attempted murder. Here's the list from the County's Public Booking Log:

Charge	Description	Level	Bail	Charge Authority	Release Date
664 187(A) PC	Attempted murder	F	$0.00	Court order
245(A)(2) PC	Assault w/firearm on person	F		Open charges
422 PC	Threaten crime to terrorize	F		Open charges
273.5 PC	Inflict Corp inj on spouse/cohabit	F		Open charges
273.6 PC	Viol crt order to prevent DV	M		Open charges
236 237 PC	False imprisonment	F		Open charges
136.1(A) PC	Prevent/Dissuade Wit/Vic	F	$500,000.00	Court order

This list is incomplete and incorrect but close enough, the point being this wasn't going to be a simple matter, nor a quick one.

The case ran for a bit over four weeks. Most of the first quarter was jury selection, a tedious process punctuated with occasional admissions by my fellow citizens that they are unable to set aside personal bias or, in a fair number of cases, even think rationally. The jury finally formed and some other preliminary matters attended to, the trial began in earnest. A full two weeks were consumed in testimony and the presentation of evidence and arguments. Interesting days, with witnesses, police and other experts, even a jail house stool pigeon, an entertaining but very bad man, brought to us in manacles. The evidence, though presented, was never provided for our study. It was there solely to register in open court that these are the bona fide tangibles of the case: photos, diagrams, hand-written notes, computer printouts, brown-flecked garden shears, a snubby gun, bullets. We will get this, all together, but only once we retire.

The witnesses come and go, the stenographer types, the clerk shuffles paper and swears people in, the lawyers likewise shuffle paper, present, and occasionally dispute. The bailiffs roam about, generally few and small in size except on those days when we have visitors from the jail, when more bailiffs appear, and bigger ones. And the judge...well, the judge is a busy man. He decides the order of activities, the start and the stop and the occasional day off. He also rules on the disputes, of course, which is to say he does what most of us think of as "judging," accepting or rejecting the objections of the lawyers. Mostly he explains things, to the lawyers, to the people testifying, and to we jurors.

He has a lot to say to us. There are the questions--about our identity, our social network, our employment, our previous experiences in court, and the biases this all may have left us with--that made up the bulk of the jury selection process. When he sustains an objection he instructs us what to make of that. Not least and never forgotten, before each break and again at the end of the day, he orders us not to discuss the case with anyone, even each other. This prohibition has nothing to do with secrecy--the proceedings take place in an open courtroom--but rather is meant to prevent us forming opinions individually prior to deliberating as a group.

I do not discuss the matter, but I do puzzle over it, day and night, throughout. I am especially challenged because in this instance I must be certain "beyond a reasonable doubt," the standard of proof in criminal cases but by no means the standard of proof I use for most things. The judge, at the beginning of the trial and again in his final instructions to us before we begin deliberation, clarifies this with further language stating that we must have an "enduring conviction" to rule the defendant guilty on each point. I wake up three or four times a night, every night for weeks, with my brain running, running, trying to find conviction. Not being able to talk about it is frustrating. The other jurors are similarly obsessed.

Finally, a month of calendar time in, closing arguments complete and we twelve retire to deliberate. The critical moments of the attack took place while the defendant and the victim were alone together. There is a rich body of circumstantial evidence, but the heart of the matter is her testimony alongside his. To my surprise, resolving the inevitable disparities is not terribly challenging. What is most difficult is the question of the timing of his murderous intent: that he meant to kill her is unambiguous--you do not stab someone a dozen times, much less choke them to the point of unconsciousness, without murderous intent--but exactly when did that intention form in his mind? Did he come to her house with the plan already formed in his mind? Did he have some other intention, less awful, but subsequently overwritten by rage at her horrified reaction, a killer instinct that surfaced in response to her running from him?

We had many questions to answer, and many more than six charges to consider, what with the potential for lesser charges should we find him not guilty of the primary ones and the aggravating conditions to rule on if we did. It took us a full week of deliberation to decide it all, but in the end we reached unanimity on almost every point, ruling him guilty of all charges and most of the aggravating conditions. As for intent, we found him not guilty of premeditation.

We submitted our determination on a Monday and returned two days later to begin a second trial: the defendant had pled not guilty but also not guilty by reason of insanity, and this latter plea requires an entirely separate procedure. To our surprise and frank relief, the defendant withdrew that plea in the interim. We were dismissed, our duty done. But it is the jury's job only to determine guilt or innocence, not to hand down punishment. That is a separate process, and must come later, as both parties are given a chance to prepare a fresh set of arguments in response to the jury's findings. I returned to court today to observe sentencing, a fascinating process in its own right. The judge concurred with the prosecutor's proposal to give him 17 years in custody, without possibility of parole.

*******

In my maturity, I actively avoid judging others. My work is all puzzles and probabilities, so I get my fill of analysis there. I have no appetite for tragedy, the world being what it is, but to be in court is to be face to face with tragedy--literally, I've never seen so many people crying in public--every day. And while I do believe this jury did a fine and important job, I am not happy to have been associated with a process the end result of which is to deprive someone of their freedom. Still, while no one seeks out jury duty, I'd recommend no one miss it.