Page 25
Story: Never Flinch
“I totally understand that, Letitia. It’s just that the usual procedure is for the court clerk to call out the names of the jurors who might be—”
“Oh yes, they did that, but then Judge Witterson said, this was even before the trial started, that he wanted us to forget our names. Like, you know, when he said a few times during the trial that the jury should disregard what just got said because it was improper for some reason. Although that was very hard to do.”
“Do you remember any of the names?”
“Bunny, of course. I remember her because at the end she was the last one holding out for not guilty, and because at the beginning she said, ‘I’m Belinda, but everyone just calls me Bunny.’ And the foreman, Juror One, said, ‘No names,’ and Bunny put her fingers over her mouth and popped her eyes in a funny way. Bunny always had a smile or a joke.”
Izzy writesBelinda aka Bunnyon her pad. “Anyone else?” Although she wonders why, exactly, she’s asking. Thejurorsaren’t the targets, after all.
“There was a guy named Andy… another one named Brad… I think… I’m sorry, that’s the best I can do. It was a long time ago. Almost three years. I’m sure there’s a list somewhere. Don’t you have it?”
“Not yet,” Izzy says. “The Clerk of Courts is on vacation, and Judge Witterson says he doesn’t remember. He sees lots of juries.”
There’s a tinge of alarm in Letitia Overton’s voice as she says, “Is someone out to get us?”
“No, ma’am, not at all.” Izzy is glad to say it. Overton’s ex-sister-in-law may think Letitia is a bitch, but based on this phone conversation it’s not Izzy’s opinion. “I’m going to let you go back to whatever you were doing, but before I do, tell me if the names Turner Kelly and Philip Jacoby mean anything to you.”
“Yes, Turner was on the jury. The other one I’m not sure of. Both Turner—he was Juror Six, I think—and Bunny were talkative. She was Ten. Some of the others were more like listeners, you know. Philip Jackson—”
“Jacoby.”
“Jacoby, yes, he might have been one of those. More of a listener than a talker, I mean.”
“You said it took you two days. Why so long? I would have thought, based on the evidence, it was open and shut.”
“Mr. Duffrey’s lawyer kept saying that all of the evidence could have been planted. I think he even mentioned that man Tolliver, who wanted a job Mr. Duffrey got. He was very good. The District Attorney—I guess he was actually the Assistant District Attorney—said that was unlikely because Duffrey’s fingerprints were found on the magazines that were hidden behind his furnace. Still, there were two or three who thought the case wasn’t proved beyond a reasonable doubt. Bunny was one. Number Seven was another one. She was another woman.”
“Were you one of the holdouts?”
Another watery sniff. “No. Those images, the ones on Duffrey’s computer, convinced me. So, so horrible. One I’ll never forget. A little girl with a doll. She had bruises on her arms, Juror Nine pointed those out, but that little girl was still trying to smile. Tosmile!”
Izzy has everything she needs, and she could have done without that last—the bruised girl with the doll.No wonder they convicted him, she thinks.And no wonder he got shanked.She thanks Overton.
“You promise we’re not in trouble? Or any danger?”
“None whatsoever.”
“I came down here to start a new life, Detective. My husband was… mean. But when I listened to Buckeye Brandon’s podcast about how Alan Duffrey was framed, it seemed like that old life was following me. I can hardly eat, thinking about what we did to that poor man.”
“It was a miscarriage of justice, Letitia. They happen.”
“What is this about?”
“I’m not free to go into details. Sorry.”
“I’m going to go back to my maiden name,” she says. “I don’t like this one anymore.”
Izzy says she understands and means it. She’s been through bad marriages herself.
She rings off and calls Tom Atta. After she’s recapped her conversation with Letitia Overton, he says, “Now we know. Jurors, judge, prosecutor. Pack your bags, guys, Bill Wilson’s sending you on a guilt trip.”
“What he’s doing is so pointless,” Izzy says. “The woman I talked to feels plenty of guilt already. God knows how much more she’ll feel when she finds out Annette McElroy was murdered forhersins. At least her sins in the eyes of this Bill Wilson freak.”
“Overton will be an outlier,” Tom says. “Most of the others on that jury won’t feel bad at all. They’ll say they followed the evidence, rendered a verdict, and won’t lose any sleep over it.”
“I hope that’s not true.”
But when they finally get all the names of the Alan Duffrey jury, it turns out that it pretty much is.
“Oh yes, they did that, but then Judge Witterson said, this was even before the trial started, that he wanted us to forget our names. Like, you know, when he said a few times during the trial that the jury should disregard what just got said because it was improper for some reason. Although that was very hard to do.”
“Do you remember any of the names?”
“Bunny, of course. I remember her because at the end she was the last one holding out for not guilty, and because at the beginning she said, ‘I’m Belinda, but everyone just calls me Bunny.’ And the foreman, Juror One, said, ‘No names,’ and Bunny put her fingers over her mouth and popped her eyes in a funny way. Bunny always had a smile or a joke.”
Izzy writesBelinda aka Bunnyon her pad. “Anyone else?” Although she wonders why, exactly, she’s asking. Thejurorsaren’t the targets, after all.
“There was a guy named Andy… another one named Brad… I think… I’m sorry, that’s the best I can do. It was a long time ago. Almost three years. I’m sure there’s a list somewhere. Don’t you have it?”
“Not yet,” Izzy says. “The Clerk of Courts is on vacation, and Judge Witterson says he doesn’t remember. He sees lots of juries.”
There’s a tinge of alarm in Letitia Overton’s voice as she says, “Is someone out to get us?”
“No, ma’am, not at all.” Izzy is glad to say it. Overton’s ex-sister-in-law may think Letitia is a bitch, but based on this phone conversation it’s not Izzy’s opinion. “I’m going to let you go back to whatever you were doing, but before I do, tell me if the names Turner Kelly and Philip Jacoby mean anything to you.”
“Yes, Turner was on the jury. The other one I’m not sure of. Both Turner—he was Juror Six, I think—and Bunny were talkative. She was Ten. Some of the others were more like listeners, you know. Philip Jackson—”
“Jacoby.”
“Jacoby, yes, he might have been one of those. More of a listener than a talker, I mean.”
“You said it took you two days. Why so long? I would have thought, based on the evidence, it was open and shut.”
“Mr. Duffrey’s lawyer kept saying that all of the evidence could have been planted. I think he even mentioned that man Tolliver, who wanted a job Mr. Duffrey got. He was very good. The District Attorney—I guess he was actually the Assistant District Attorney—said that was unlikely because Duffrey’s fingerprints were found on the magazines that were hidden behind his furnace. Still, there were two or three who thought the case wasn’t proved beyond a reasonable doubt. Bunny was one. Number Seven was another one. She was another woman.”
“Were you one of the holdouts?”
Another watery sniff. “No. Those images, the ones on Duffrey’s computer, convinced me. So, so horrible. One I’ll never forget. A little girl with a doll. She had bruises on her arms, Juror Nine pointed those out, but that little girl was still trying to smile. Tosmile!”
Izzy has everything she needs, and she could have done without that last—the bruised girl with the doll.No wonder they convicted him, she thinks.And no wonder he got shanked.She thanks Overton.
“You promise we’re not in trouble? Or any danger?”
“None whatsoever.”
“I came down here to start a new life, Detective. My husband was… mean. But when I listened to Buckeye Brandon’s podcast about how Alan Duffrey was framed, it seemed like that old life was following me. I can hardly eat, thinking about what we did to that poor man.”
“It was a miscarriage of justice, Letitia. They happen.”
“What is this about?”
“I’m not free to go into details. Sorry.”
“I’m going to go back to my maiden name,” she says. “I don’t like this one anymore.”
Izzy says she understands and means it. She’s been through bad marriages herself.
She rings off and calls Tom Atta. After she’s recapped her conversation with Letitia Overton, he says, “Now we know. Jurors, judge, prosecutor. Pack your bags, guys, Bill Wilson’s sending you on a guilt trip.”
“What he’s doing is so pointless,” Izzy says. “The woman I talked to feels plenty of guilt already. God knows how much more she’ll feel when she finds out Annette McElroy was murdered forhersins. At least her sins in the eyes of this Bill Wilson freak.”
“Overton will be an outlier,” Tom says. “Most of the others on that jury won’t feel bad at all. They’ll say they followed the evidence, rendered a verdict, and won’t lose any sleep over it.”
“I hope that’s not true.”
But when they finally get all the names of the Alan Duffrey jury, it turns out that it pretty much is.
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