The Reversal

“Mr. Royce,” the judge said, “I don’t see the need for further argument. You made the motion and I allowed you to respond to the prosecution’s submission. What more needs to be said?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Royce sat back down, leaving whatever he was going to add to his attack on Sarah Gleason a secret.

“The defense’s motion is dismissed,” the judge said immediately. “I will be allowing the defense wide latitude in its examination of the prosecution’s witness as well as in the production of its own witnesses to address Ms. Gleason’s credibility before the jury. But I believe that this witness’s credibility and reliability is indeed something that jurors will need to decide.”

A momentary silence enveloped the courtroom, as if everyone collectively had drawn in a breath. No response followed from either the prosecution or defense table. It was another down-the-middle ruling, Bosch knew, and both sides were probably pleased to have gotten something. Gleason would be allowed to testify, so the prosecution’s case was secured, but the judge was going to let Royce go after her with all he had. It would come down to whether Sarah was strong enough to take it.

“Now, I would like to move on,” the judge said. “Let’s talk about jury selection and scheduling first, and then we’ll get to the exhibits.”

The judge proceeded to outline how she wanted voir dire to proceed. Though each side would be allowed to question prospective jurors, she said she would strictly limit the time for each side. She wanted to start a momentum that would carry into the trial. She also limited each side to only twelve peremptory challenges-juror rejections without cause-and said she wanted to pick six alternates because it was her practice to be quick with the hook on jurors who misbehaved, were chronically late or had the audacity to fall asleep during testimony.

“I like a good supply of alternates because we usually need them,” she said.

The low number of peremptory challenges and the high number of alternates brought objections from both the prosecution and the defense. The judge grudgingly gave each side two more challenges but warned that she would not allow voir dire to get bogged down.

“I want jury selection completed by the end of the day Friday. If you slow me down, then I will slow you down. I will hold the panel and every lawyer in here until Friday night if I have to. I want opening statements first thing Monday. Any objection to that?”

Both sides seemed properly cowed by the judge. She was clearly exerting command of her own courtroom. She next outlined the trial schedule, stating that testimony would begin each morning at nine sharp and continue until five with a ninety-minute lunch and morning and afternoon breaks of fifteen minutes each.

“That leaves a solid six hours a day of testimony,” she said. “Any more and I find the jurors start losing interest. So I keep it to six a day. It will be up to you to be in here and ready to go each morning when I step through the door at nine. Any questions?”

There were none. Breitman then asked each side for estimates on how long their case would take to present. Haller said he would need no more than four days, depending on the length of the cross-examinations of his witnesses. This was already a shot directed at Royce and his plans to attack Sarah Ann Gleason.

For his part, Royce said he needed only two days. The judge then did her own math, adding four and two and coming up with five.

“Well, I’m thinking an hour each for opening statements on Monday morning. I think that means we’ll finish Friday afternoon and go right to closing arguments the following Monday.”

Neither side objected to her math. The point was clear. Keep it moving. Find ways to cut time. Of course a trial was a fluid thing and there were many unknowns. Neither side would be held to what was said at this hearing, but each lawyer knew that there might be consequences from the judge if they didn’t keep a continuous velocity to their presentations.

“Finally, we come to exhibits and electronics,” Breitman said. “I trust that everyone has looked over each other’s lists. Any objections to these?”

Both Haller and Royce stood up. The judge nodded at Royce.

“You first, Mr. Royce.”

“Yes, Judge, the defense has an objection to the prosecution’s plans to project numerous images of Melissa Landy’s body on the courtroom’s overhead screens. This practice is not only barbaric but exploitative and prejudicial.”

The judge swiveled in her seat and looked at Haller, who was still standing.

“Your Honor, it is the prosecution’s duty to produce the body. To show the crime that brings us here. The last thing we want to do is be exploitative or prejudicial. I will grant Mr. Royce that it is a fine line, but we do not plan to step across it.”

Royce came back with one more shot.

“This case is twenty-four years old. In nineteen eighty-six there were no overhead screens, none of this Hollywood stuff. I think it infringes on my client’s right to a fair trial.”