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The Trial of Knox Booth
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Previously on the Chronicles of Knox Booth:
Chapter 1 - First Article
Chapter 2 - The SMJHL Draft Approaches
Chapter 3 - The Losses Mount
Chapter 4 - Draft Day (SMJHL)
Chapter 5 - Collect $200 when you Pass Go
Chapter 6 - Best Served Cold
Chapter 7 - Lucky Guy
Chapter 8 - The Mid-Day Move
Chapter 9 - The Day the Earth Stood Still
Chapter 10 - Rumors
Chapter 11 - Against All Odds
Chapter 12 - Straight Shooter
Chapter 13 - Bullseye
Chapter 14 - One Hand Man
Chapter 15 - Pay the Piper


Chapter 16 

The Trial of Knox Booth


“Ow!” Susan Lancaster cried out as she pulled her hand away from underneath the stainless steel, coffee urn’s nozzle. Susan wasn’t familiar with this style of coffee urn that they had in place at the Superior Court of California, located in the dead center of downtown Los Angeles, and now she had just burned the back of her right hand.

“Oh,” a co-juror said to her as he stood beside her waiting for his turn to pour a cup of hour-old coffee, “You okay?”

“I’ll be all right, thank you,” she said to him as she shot him an unassuming smile and tried to hide the embarrassment that was hiding beneath her expression. He was an attractive man, likely in his mid-thirties, and Susan was pushing fifty and still occupied the title of a single spinster. One who was on the lookout for a companion who would stick around and call her a pet name every once and a while. It had been a long time since she had heard herself addressed as, ‘hun,’ or, ‘babe.’

The co-juror returned her smile and stepped aside to allow her to pass. Susan awkwardly grabbed her paper cup of half-poured coffee and slowly moved past him, taking a spot by the window and looking through the semi-pulled blinds and out onto the bright and sunny, congested city. Susan had arrived early for jury duty and had been selected as juror number seven in the trial for a hockey player she had never heard of. What she did know was that the trial involved a supposed kidnapping that had resulted in the death of three men- all of the deceased being the ones who owned the title of the kidnappers, and the only one left alive was the individual who had been apparently kidnaped. Susan couldn’t help but wonder what kind of case this would turn into, and from what she had been told it was going to be proposed as murder.

Susan knew that she wasn’t supposed to have presumptions, but what human wouldn’t? She had never expected to be selected to sit on the jury in the first place, and after she received the call that she would be a member of this trial her mind couldn’t stop itself from racing. The one thing that she did relish from when it came to her being selected was the opportunity for a little time off work. She couldn’t remember the last vacation she had taken for herself, as the accounting firm that she worked for wasn’t one to insist on time off, and because she had a small social circle, there hadn’t been much opportunity to take advantage of getting out of the city. Both of her parents were long gone, a father she never knew, and a mother who had died eight years ago from an aneurism, so what incentive was there to do anything out of the ordinary? If only she had someone in her life that she could spend time with, then that would have been reason enough to go to Mexico or take a cruise to Europe. But doing those sorts of trips alone was far more depressing than sticking with her steady schedule of nine to five work.

Susan had heard that trials could be slow and boring, and although she suspected this one might be too, she thought that the information she was about to hear would at least be compelling. It wasn’t often that you had a front-row seat to a story about kidnapping or murder, or both. Susan would be the first to admit that she wasn’t much of a sports fan, so she had no prior feelings directed toward the victim at hand. All she knew was that he was young, and that he played for the local hockey team. Susan had spent most of her life in California, and out of all the sports that this city claimed for fame, she knew the least about hockey. As Susan’s mind drifted while she watched the passing cars outside jury room window she tried to recall the name of the hockey team in question, “The Los Angeles…,” she mumbled under her breath as she went to take a sip of her coffee, and she nearly spat it out.

Bitter.

Susan placed her paper cup down on the windowsill and left the coffee to cool as she turned to face the group of remaining jurors. Nearly all of them had arrived, because she could count eleven people in the room, including herself.

One more left.

“Are you from around here?”

The question came from slightly behind her, and Susan turned to face juror number twelve. She was a petite woman and a person who was noticeably smaller than Susan in stature. “Yes,” Susan told the young lady that stood in front of her now, “I grew up outside of the city, but I work downtown.”

“I’m Cheryl,” the petite woman told her as she extended her hand, “I came to LA about five years ago now,” a small grin crept across her face, “Never thought I’d be involved in something like this.”

Susan smiled as she took Cheryl’s hand and shook it, “Neither did I.”

“You follow the Panthers at all?” Cheryl asked.

Susan’s eyes flashed as she now remembered that the Panthers was the name of the hockey team. She shook her head, “No,” she said, “I’d never heard of them before this.”

“I’m from Wisconsin originally,” Cheryl told her, “So I grew up around the sport, and my Dad and brothers are big fans, so I’ve seen quite a bit of the SHL games on TV. I even went to a Panthers game about a year ago.”

“Who’s the hockey player? Do you know much about him?” Susan asked her, and in truth, she didn’t much care about the hockey player but she was making an effort to continue the conversation and also attempt to pique Cheryl’s interest in the trial.

“He’s the goalie,” Cheryl told her and as she saw that Susan didn’t fully understand, she explained further, “He’s the guy that tries to stop the shots.”

“That’s ironic,” Susan said as her and Cheryl shared a laugh.

“We’re going to find out a lot today,” Cheryl added, “Did you know his parents were killed?”

Susan shook her head as an expression of shock rang over her, “No,” she told her, “No idea.”

“I suspect this has something to do with that,” Cheryl said as she lowered her voice, “That’s why some are saying this wasn’t a kidnapping at all. But I guess we’ll find out either way.”

“What do you think?” Susan asked her, curious about how much more Cheryl knew than she was insinuating, “Do you think it was murder?”

Cheryl shrugged, “I don’t know, but I do know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Hockey players are entitled,” Cheryl said with conviction, “I went to school with a lot of them, and they’re dicks.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Cheryl said nodding, “A lot of athletes are, especially the star players.”

“Is this one a star player?” Susan asked her.

Cheryl shook her head, “No,” and then she seemed to think about the question for a moment, “Not really,” she repeated, “But that doesn’t mean he isn’t entitled.”

The door to the jury room opened and, in the doorway, stood a male court clerk, “Ladies and gentlemen,” the court clerk addressed the twelve of them, his eyes scanning back and forth across the room, “Follow me please.”

***

The room was packed with not a seat left untaken, and as the voices in the courtroom grew louder, the court clerk quieted the room, “Order in the court, the Honorable Madame Justice Horsman presiding.”

All those who occupied the courtroom stood as Judge Horsman entered and took her seat, and with her shoulders squared and her face half-hidden by long sandy blonde hair, she spoke in a loud enough voice for all of those present to hear, “You may be seated.”

In unison, the people sat, including Susan Lancaster on the jury, and the only who remained standing was the court clerk. “The case of the Superior Court of California versus Knox Booth has begun, your honor,” he said aloud before he finally took a seat.

Judge Horsman looked in the court clerk’s direction for a moment, “Thank you,” she said before her eyes shifted back to the room, “Are all parties present?”

The prosecutor stood; he was an elderly man in appearance who moved with the rhythm of a man half his age. Susan knew nothing about either side of the representation but was intrigued by the swagger the prosecutor exuded in his body language. “Yes, your honor,” the prosecutor began, “I am Richard Peck, and these are my colleagues,” he motioned to those who were seated at his table, “Anne Leer and Timothy Granger. We are acting on behalf of the Department of Justice and represent the Crown in this matter.” Richard Peck then took a seat.

It was the defense attorney’s turn to stand and seated beside him was a solemn Knox Booth, dressed in a simple black suit, white shirt, and black tie. Knox was clean-cut and it was obvious he had just had a haircut. For all intents and purposes, he appeared unremarkable and unintimidating. “Your honor,” The defense attorney said as he stood. He was much younger in appearance than Richard Peck but equally confident in his stance, there was a charm about him, and Susan suspected he had been hired for that very reason. “I am Colin West, and these are my colleagues, Matthew Sutton and Tanya Ortiz. We are acting on behalf of the accused, Knox Booth.”

Judge Horsman nodded in approval, “Thank you, Mr. Booth, please rise to hear the charge,” Judge Horsman instructed, and as she did the court clerk, defense team, and Knox Booth all stood.

The court clerk now spoke, “Knox Booth, you are charged that on, or about the thirteenth day of August, in the year twenty twenty, you did by unlawfully discharging a handgun, commit second-degree murder in the slaying of Thomas Baker, Henry Childers, and Daniel Day. Mr. Knox Booth, having heard the charge, how do you plead? Guilty or not guilty?”

Knox Booth attempted to speak but needed to clear his throat first, “Not guilty.”

The court clerk turned to Judge Horsman, “The accused pleads not guilty, your honor.”

Judge Horsman shifted ever so slightly in her chair before her eyes scanned the courtroom floor, and as her gaze rested for a moment upon juror number seven, Susan Lancaster- Susan resisted from reacting and tried her best to remain still and unwavering. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Judge Horsman spoke at first to Susan before her eyes lifted from her and took hold of the remaining jurors, “Before beginning this trial, I am going to make a few comments about your role here today. As the judge, in this case, it is my role to interpret and judge the law. As the jury, you are the judges of the facts and it is your duty to assess the evidence that is presented by the witnesses today. There are two other principles that are important to your role as jurors. They are the presumption of innocence and the requirement of proof beyond a reasonable doubt.” Judge Horsman paused as she looked over at Knox Booth, “Mr. Booth is presumed to be innocent until the Crown has satisfied you beyond a reasonable doubt that he is guilty. The responsibility is on the Crown to prove each element of the crime that Mr. Booth has been charged with. Because of the presumption of innocence, Mr. Booth is not required to prove he is not guilty or to explain the evidence presented by the Crown. Knox Booth is charged with one crime, second-degree murder of three men, Thomas Baker, Henry Childers, and Daniel Day. For you, the members of the jury, to find Knox Booth guilty of second-degree murder the Crown must prove the following elements beyond a reasonable doubt: That the deceased died by the hands of Knox Booth, and that Knox Booth intended to cause their deaths. I now call on the Crown to begin their case.”

Richard Peck rose from his seat, calm and collected, and as he turned to face the jurors, Susan was taken aback when his eyes fixed on hers. Susan had never experienced something so serious before and she was already losing herself in the process. The first few minutes of this trial had been beyond exciting and she couldn’t believe that she was in for so much more. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Richard Peck began to speak, taking his time to approach the jurors who seated on the far side of the courtroom. “This is a sad story of a deranged man who desperately sought revenge, so much so that he let nothing get in his way,” Peck paused for effect, “Not even the lives of three innocent men.” Peck looked over at Knox Booth for a moment, his face wearing a thinly veiled expression of disgust. “The evidence will show that Knox Booth both stalked and hunted Daniel Day and that he trespassed onto the private property of Daniel Day, with the intent to murder him, only to be prevented in the process. The evidence will also show that Knox Booth did kill Daniel Day, alongside two of his staff, Thomas Baker and Henry Childers. Knox Booth is not the victim in this story, but the perpetrator, and while this case has received considerable media attention- I ask you, members of the jury, to forget all you have heard or seen about it. This case has not been the black and white story that the media would have you believe. Knox Booth is a sick man, and your deliberation as the jury must be shaped by the evidence that will be introduced in court. Not by what you might have heard about it beforehand. At the end of this trial we will ask you to return a verdict that the accused, Knox Booth, is guilty of second-degree murder,” Peck again looked over at Susan Lancaster, seeming to speak to her personally, “Thank You.”

Susan resisted from replying to Richard Peck and instead glanced over at Cheryl, and they exchanged a knowingly look. However, she could not linger on Cheryl for longer than a second before Judge Horsman broke the silent tension that hung in the air, “Is the crown ready to call its first witness?”

Richard Peck was quick in his reply, “Yes, your honor. The Crown calls Detective Michael Atwater of the Los Angeles Police Department to the stand.”

The crowd moved in unison as they watched Detective Atwater approach the front of the courtroom, Susan noted how muscular the Detective was, noticing the definition of his body as it pressed against his white collared shirt. Susan looked again at Cheryl and they nodded at each other, both having the same thought. Once Detective Atwater was seated, the court clerk stood to face him, “Take the Bible in your right hand,” and he paused as he watched Detective Atwater take hold of the religious book, “Do you swear that the evidence you shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth- so help you, God?”

Detective Atwater nodded, “I do.”

“Please state your full name and occupation for the record,” the court clerk instructed.

“Michael Samuel Atwater, Detective for the Los Angeles Police Department,” the Detective told him and as he did, the court clerk sat back down again.

“Your witness, Crown counsel,” Judge Horsman said as she spoke to Richard Peck.

Peck approached the stand, “Thank you, your honor. Detective Atwater, when did you first meet Knox Booth?”

Detective Atwater looked over at Knox before he looked back at Richard Peck, “Unfortunately, the day his parents died.”

“Please explain.”

Detective Atwater remained focused on Richard Peck, “Murder-suicide,” he said abruptly before he paused and softened his tone, “From what we understand, Mr. Booth’s father was an abusive man, and had followed Mr. Booth and his mother to Los Angeles in the hopes that he would be able to convince his wife, Mrs. Booth, to come back home with him. She declined his request and he took her life along with his own.”

“Can you please describe, in your opinion, what Knox Booth’s state of mind was when you met with him?” Richard Peck asked.

“Objection,” Colin West said as he stood from beside Knox Booth, “Detective Atwater is not a psychologist and not properly educated on how to assess the mental health of an individual he is interviewing.”

“Your honor,” Richard Peck cut in, “Detective Atwater is proficient in assessing the individuals he encounters on a daily basis and has on a number of occasions met with individuals who have suffered from trauma. I am trying to outline what Detective Atwater’s opinion was of Knox Booth the day that Mr. Booth’s parents perished.”

“Overruled,” Judge Horsman said, “I am satisfied that Detective Atwater can offer his opinion.”

“Distraught,” Detective Atwater said before he paused and could see that more would be required. “Clearly, he was very distressed. Knox Booth expressed his love for his mother, and just like anyone who had lost a loved one he was displaying symptoms of shock and distress. I could tell that he was very upset and nearly inconsolable.”

“Did Knox Booth tell you about the history between his parents?” Richard Peck asked.

“Yes, he did,” Detective Atwater said as he nodded, “He explained that their relationship was a physical one, and that is why he had brought his mother to live with him.”

“Was Knox Booth’s father, a dangerous man?” Richard Peck asked.

Detective Atwater nodded again, “Yes,” he said, “According to our records and those of the Vancouver Police, his father was a very dangerous man, having been arrested for assault, fraud, and theft on prior occasions.”

“That is all,” Richard Peck said as he walked back to his desk and sat down.

“Do you wish to cross-examine the witness, defense counsel?”

“I do, your honor,” Colin West said as he stood.

“You may proceed,” Judge Horsman told him as she leaned back in her chair.

“Detective Atwater,” Colin West began, “Were you not the person who first mentioned the name of Daniel Murphy to Knox Booth?”

Detective Atwater shrugged, “I may have been.”

“According to the interview on file that you had with Knox Booth, you brought up an altercation between Daniel Murphy and Knox’s father that had occurred recently before his parents were found deceased?”

Detective Atwater nodded in agreement, “Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” Detective Atwater appeared confused.

“If you believed this to be a case of murder-suicide,” Colin West replied, “Why would you bring up a prior innocent between Knox’s father and Daniel Murphy?”

Detective Atwater thought about the question for a moment, “When we ran a background check on Knox Booth’s father, the fact that he had been an associate of Daniel Murphy’s and had an altercation with him was not something we could ignore. Daniel Murphy is a name that many in law enforcement have heard, and so it was something we needed to investigate.”

“Who is Daniel Murphy?” Colin West asked.

“We still don’t know,” Detective Atwater said flatly, “A pseudonym. He’s a bit of a legendary character in the drug world, and a person of interest to this day. We figured that if Knox Booth’s father had a connection to the real Daniel Murphy than the murder-suicide may have not been what we were looking at.”

“Did you determine that there was a connection between Knox’s father and Daniel Murphy?”

Detective Atwater shook his head, “We were unable to.”

“Why is that?”

“Too many dead ends,” Detective Atwater said truthfully, “I apologize for the poor use of words, but a lot of time we came up empty when we followed up on any leads regarding Daniel Murphy.”

“Is it possible then that Knox Booth’s father did have a connection to Daniel Murphy?” Colin West asked him.

“Possible?” Detective Atwater repeated, “Yes, it’s possible.”

“Then Detective Atwater, how can you be sure that the death of Knox Booth’s parents was in fact a murder-suicide?”

Detective Atwater shifted in his seat, “It was what our investigation concluded as being the most likely cause.”

“Likely, but not beyond a reasonable doubt, Detective?”

“Beyond a reasonable doubt? No. But it was as confirmed as a case can get when no one else is a witness to it,” Detective Atwater shot back.

***

The next witness on the stand struck a nerve with Susan, he was a slimy character and a man that Susan believed she recognized from movies involving the mafia. Her gut instinct told her immediately that he was a man who could not be trusted.

Richard Peck began the line of questioning, “Mr. James, can you tell us your occupation?”

Laurence James sat back in the chair, his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned at the top revealing his wavy chest hair, “I’m an expert on horse racing,” James said with a smirk, “I help people win, for a fee,” James said with an air of confidence as he flashed a scuzzy grin at the occupants of the courtroom.

“Was Knox Booth a client of yours?” Richard Peck asked him.

“Matter of fact he was,” James said, “I netted him a nice payout on his first day at the track.”

“Did Knox Booth ask you about a man named Daniel Murphy?”

“Yes,” James said as he stared now at Knox Booth, “He was adamant that I knew him.”

“Do you know of a man named Daniel Murphy?”

“Nope,” James said as he spread his legs even further apart and scratched the inside of his groin, “Never heard of him.”

“Is it true that Knox Booth pulled a weapon on you?”

“Damn right he did,” James said as he now sat forward and spoke directly in Knox’s direction, “Crazy bastard nearly kidnapped me,” James pointed at Knox, “He assaulted me. I was lucky I escaped alive.”

“Why didn’t you report the incident to the police?”

“I was afraid for my life,” James said as his eyes lifted from Knox and met with the jurors, “He told me he’d blow my brains out. What was I supposed to do? I knew he had money because he had ample amounts available to lose when we were at the track. How was I to know what he was capable of? And look at him now, he’s a murderer-“

“Objection!” Colin West shouted, “Prosecution is leading the witness.”

“Sustained,” Judge Horsman replied.

“You want the truth?” Laurence James said as he again looked back at Knox Booth, “I’m afraid of him now.”

“That is all,” Richard Peck said as he sat back down and as he did, Colin West stood, and approached the stand.

“Mr. James isn’t it true that they call you, ‘Jay,’ at the track?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“Why do they call you that?” Colin West asked.

“It’s short for James.”

“Isn’t it instead because you like to be known as the Jay Bird? Because you have a talent to make people sing?”

James laughed, “Where’d you hear that?”

“From the countless people you’ve robbed of their winnings,” Colin West said bluntly.

“Objection!” Richard Peck shouted, “That’s a statement, not a question, and one that is not factually backed by any witnesses.”

“Sustained,” Judge Horsman replied, “Mr. West, rephrase your question.”

“Isn’t it true that you robbed Knox Booth of his winnings?” Colin West asked.

“Nah,” James shook his head, “I only took my cut.”

“Does a cut amount to one hundred percent of the winnings? And may I remind you Mr. James, you’re under oath.”

James shifted in his seat, narrowing the space between his legs, “Not all the time, but some of the time.”

“Did you take one hundred percent of Knox Booth’s winnings?” Colin West asked.

“I might of,” James said, “I don’t remember.”

“Mr. James, were you the man responsible for introducing Knox Booth to Daniel Day, Thomas Baker, and Henry Childers?”

James hesitated for a moment, “Maybe, yeah.”

“Maybe, yeah?”

“Yes,” James said, “I was.”

“How did you go about doing that?”

“What do you mean?” James looked confused.

“Did you not pull a revolver on Knox Booth and instruct him to get into the back of a vehicle?”

“Absolutely not,” James said defiantly.

“It is a crime to perjure yourself in the court of law, Mr. James, are you aware of that?”

“I am,” James said.

“Then I repeat,” Colin West approached even closer, standing only a few feet from Larry James, “Did you pull a revolver on Knox Booth?”

“For my own safety,” James relented, “I didn’t know what he was going to do.”

“You mean after you stole his winnings?”

“Yeah,” James stopped himself, “I mean, no, it was my cut.”

“So, how you do business is you take your cut by force?” Colin West asked.

James shook his head, “Of course not, I never know what anyone’s going to do. Money makes people do crazy things you know?”

“Like pull a gun on someone?”

“Yes,” James said.

“That is all.”

***

Detective Bloom sat now on the stand and in many ways, he was the opposite representation of Detective Atwater. Detective Bloom was noticeably disheveled, appearing as though he hadn’t shaved in days let alone had a shower. Bloom also reeked of stale cigarettes, a scent that even Susan could smell from as many feet away.

“Detective Bloom,” Richard Peck began, “Can you please describe the appearance of Knox Booth when you first encountered him?”

Susan found that question to be ironic, considering how Bloom appeared now, but she waited for his response as the courtroom remained silent. “Battered,” Detective Bloom said flatly as his expression remained the same and his focus stayed fixed on Richard Peck. “He looked like a man who had taken on six other men and lost the battle,” Detective Bloom shot a glance in Knox Booth’s direction, “I knew that it wasn’t from some accidental fall or whatever the reason it was that he had given in the first place,” Detective Bloom looked back at Richard Peck, “It was obvious that he’d been jumped, and I figured at first that he had been robbed.”

“Did Knox Booth advise you if he had been investigating the death of his parents?”

“No,” Detective Bloom was blunt in his answer, “I could tell he didn’t want to say anything, but I knew that he’d been up to something suspicious. We had traced him back to the racetrack, and we’re no strangers to people ending up on the wrong side of the law after they’ve placed a few bets.”

“Detective Bloom,” Richard Peck said before he paused and faced his body so that he was also looking at the jury, “Can you confirm if the victim Daniel Day, was known to the police?”

“We have no record of Daniel Day ever being known to the police,” Detective Bloom answered.

“Thank you.”

Colin West stood and approached the stand, “Detective Bloom, can you confirm that the name Daniel Murphy was known to the police?”

“Yes,” Detective Bloom nodded, “A person of interest for quite some time.”

“Is it true that you believed Daniel Murphy to be an alias?” Colin West asked, “That it was not his real name?”

Detective Bloom nodded in the same fashion, “Yes, we believed that to be true.”

“Isn’t it a fact, Detective, that the location on record in which Knox Booth was brought to,” Colin West paused just as Richard Peck had, and he faced the jury to finish his question, “Was believed to be the headquarters for Daniel Murphy?”

Detective Bloom followed Colin West’s gaze to the jury and nodded in their direction, “Yes,” he said, “That’s true.”

***

The court clerk stood in front of Sam Reilly, who had now taken the stand, “Can you please state your name and occupation?”

“Samuel Joseph Reilly, I am a trainer at the Los Angeles Gun Club, and I specialize in handguns and semi-automatic rifles,” Sam Reilly spoke with pride in his voice.

“Your witness, Crown counsel,” Judge Horsman stated.

“Mr. Reilly,” Richard Peck smiled at Sam Reilly as he walked toward him, “Can you identify any clients in this courtroom?”

Sam Reilly nodded, “Yes sir,” he pointed at Knox Booth, “One of them is sitting over there.”

“What is his name?”

“Knox Booth,” Sam said as he smiled in Knox’s direction.

“How long did you work with Knox Booth, and what did you train him on?”

Sam thought about the question, “He specifically wanted to work on handguns, and he was a star student of mine. It didn’t take very long to have him in tip top shape, maybe a few weeks, maybe less.”

“Would you consider Knox Booth an expert marksman?” Richard Peck asked.

Sam took another moment to think out the question before he nodded, “An expert? Not an accredited one, but he as good as the best of them.”

“Thank you.”

Colin West followed suit, “Mr. Reilly, would you consider Knox Booth a friend?”

Sam nodded, “Yes, I would.”

“Did you on occasion spend time together outside of the Gun Club?”

“Yes, we did,” Sam told him, “We’ve had a few beers together.”

“Did Knox Booth ever confide in you that he had a plan to enact revenge?”

Sam laughed, “Certainly not.”

“What did he say was his motivation for learning how to use a firearm?” Colin West asked.

“The same as most, sir,” Sam said confidently, “Safety.”

***

“Dr. Lee,” Richard Peck looked across at the sickly skinny man who now sat on the stand, “Can you please describe your relationship with Knox Booth?”

“I was the team doctor for a junior hockey club he was a part of,” Dr. Lee answered as he shifted in his seat.

“How long have you known him?”

“Many years,” Dr. Lee stated, “Since he was a young man in his teens.”

“Would you say you have a close relationship?”

“I would say that there is a certain level of trust among most patients and their doctor, and we had shared that level of trust,” Dr. Lee said with honesty.

“Dr. Lee, please describe what happened on the day of July tenth?”

“I opened my door to see that Knox Booth was standing in my doorway,” Dr. Lee paused, “Wounded.”

“What sort of wound?”

“A bullet wound,” Dr. Lee said, “Through the palm of his right hand. I could see that the wound was relatively fresh and in need of immediate medical assistance.”

“Assistance that, you, gave to Knox Booth?”

Dr. Lee nodded, “Yes.”

“Did Knox Booth tell you what had happened to cause the injury?”

“Only that it was an accident,” Dr. Lee recalled, “And that it was better if I didn’t know why.”

“Why do you think he didn’t want you to know the reason?” Peck asked.

“Objection!” Colin West cried out, “Speculative.”

“Sustained,” Judge Horsman said, “Rephrase the question, Mr. Peck.”

“Did Knox Booth give any further explanation as to how he had come to be shot in his right hand?”

“No,” Dr. Lee said.

“How many bullet wounds have you treated in your career, Dr. Lee?”

“That was the first, and only.”

“Thank you.”

“Dr. Lee,” Colin West said calmly, “Do you know what handiness Knox Booth is?”

“He is left-handed,” Dr. Lee answered.

“You mentioned that he stated it was an accident, is it possible he could have accidentally shot himself?”

“Objection!” Richard Peck stood from his seat, “The witness is not an expert on bullet wounds, as he stated this is the first bullet wound he has ever treated.”

“Overruled,” Judge Horsman said as she looked back at Peck, and then to Dr. Lee, “You may answer the question.”

Dr. Lee thought about it for a moment, “Yes, it could have been an accident.”

“Thank you.”

***

“How long have you known Knox Booth?” Richard Peck asked Max Mauldin, a teammate of Knox Booth on the Los Angeles Panthers.

“Gotta be about five years now,” Max said, “Maybe six? Somewhere around that.”

“When did you notice a dramatic change in demeanor from Knox Booth?”

“After his parents died,” Max said as he glanced in Knox’s direction, empathy in his eyes.

“Would you say that Knox became more withdrawn after the death of his parents?”

“Absolutely,” Max said, “I think most of us would.”

“Did you have an altercation with Knox Booth on August thirteenth?”

“I guess you could call it that,” Max responded, “We had it out, that’s for sure.”

“Would you call it unusual behavior for him?”

Max nodded, “Most definitely.”

“Can you describe what happened in detail?”

“I knew he was off,” Max started, “I could sense it. I wanted to help him as most of us did. He didn’t take what I had to say lightly, blew up in the room, and left.”

“What do you mean by, ‘blew up,’?”

“Got mad,” Max said, “Angry.”

“Had you ever witnessed Knox Booth that angry before?”

Max paused and looked away from Knox, “No,” he said, “I hadn’t.”

“Thank you.”

Colin West stood and calmly approached Max on the stand, “Mr. Mauldin, you said you’ve known Knox Booth for several years, would you say you know him well?”

Max nodded, “He’s one of my closest friends on the team.”

“Before Knox Booth, ‘blew up,’ how would you describe his demeanor?”

Max thought about it, “Well, he’d been off for weeks,” he said, “I mean, I could sense something was really wrong.”

“Can you describe what you mean by, ‘off’?”

“Just not right,” Max said, “It was like everywhere we went he was looking over his shoulder, he couldn’t ever sit still. It was like he was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

Max shook his head, “Someone,” Max said, “It was like he was worried that someone was coming for him.”

***

“I’d like to introduce evidence to the court,” Colin West stated as he motioned for a television screen to be wheeled into the courtroom. It was a large enough screen for members in the audience and the jury to see. “Here we have security footage of the exterior of the arena on August thirteenth,” Colin West motioned to the court clerk, “Press play.”

The security footage was surprisingly crisp and the people in the courtroom watched as Knox Booth came barreling out of the arena and stormed his way to the sidewalk that surrounded the exterior of the arena. The man now identified as Thomas Baker, and an associate of Daniel Day, stood waiting for Knox Booth. The audience watched as Thomas and Knox exchanged words, there was no audio to the video, but it was clear that Knox was frightened of the man. It was also clear that Thomas Baker was holding something in his right hand, concealed in his pocket. However, due to how clear the video was the outline of what looked like a gun was what appeared to be in Thomas Baker’s pocket. The moment this reveal happened in the court there were noticeable gasps that could be heard, and juror number seven, Susan Lancaster looked over at her newfound friend Cheryl and slightly nodded. Susan could tell that Cheryl was thinking the same thought as her and that the story of the kidnapping was real.

The audience then watched as Knox was escorted to a black vehicle that was parked along the sidewalk, and how Thomas Baker followed him into the backseat.

“The defense rests, your honor,” Colin West stated as the video ended.

Judge Horsman acknowledged him, “Very well, proceed with your closing statement.”

Colin West crossed the room and stood in front of the jury, his eyes resting on Susan Lancaster, “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as we look back on today’s trial it is clear that the Crown has not discharged its burden to prove that Knox Booth is guilty of second-degree murder beyond a reasonable doubt. The Crown has attempted to dissuade your opinion of painting a picture of a man who was so overcome with rage that he sought revenge in the most brutal of manners. However, Knox Booth is not a murderer and the only thing he can be found guilty of is a broken heart. Did Knox Booth attempt to learn who it was who was responsible for killing his parents? Yes. But only so that he could aid in their arrest and get them off the streets before they sought to do to him, what they did to his parents. Knox Booth was afraid, and he had reason to be. Did Knox did take it upon himself to visit the horse track? Yes, and this is why he was beaten nearly to death for just asking the question of who Daniel Murphy was. We may never know who Daniel Murphy was, but we do know that Daniel Day was responsible for Knox being beaten and robbed after he left the horse track. This is why Knox took it upon himself to learn how to defend himself, and in the process of learning how to handle a weapon he ended up wounding himself in a mistake that any one of us could fall victim to. The defense has shown that Knox was scared and that on August thirteenth he was kidnapped by an associate of Daniel Day and taken from the arena so that they could end his life. I ask of you now, what would you do? Would you fight to save your life if you knew you were moments away from being murdered? Was it not the fact that Knox had prepared himself through training that he was able to survive? We ask you to side with the evidence and believe Knox Booth when he says that he is innocent of the crime of second-degree murder and we respectfully ask you to return a verdict of not guilty. Knox Booth has suffered enough, and it’s time for him to go home. Let him. Let him go home and feel the kind of safety he has been searching for since his comfort in this world, his mother, was taken from him. Thank you.”

“Crown counsel,” Judge Horsman broke the silence, “Your close argument please.”

Richard Peck stood slowly and smiled softly as he looked at the jurors, “That’s a beautiful story,” he said, “I just wish it were true. If you let Knox Booth go home, you’re letting a murderer back onto the streets. The Crown has proven that Knox Booth sought out Daniel Day, Thomas Baker, and Henry Childers with intent. That Knox Booth went above the law in his journey for revenge, clouding over the truth in his mind, and finding innocent victims in the process. Knox Booth was cold and calculated in his mission to seek revenge, and murder is what he found instead. Don’t be fooled by this young man’s attorney. Look at the evidence before you, and what it points to- him,” Richard Peck pointed at Knox Booth, “This man belongs in jail for the rest of his life, and it is your responsibility to make sure that he pays for his crimes. We ask the jury to return a verdict of guilty, against a man who deserves it, and in my many years as a prosecutor, I’ve never seen a clearer picture of one. Thank you.”

***

“I’m going to need a stiff drink after this,” Cheryl said to Susan as they sat next to one another in the juror’s room.

“I’ll join you for it,” Susan told her, trying her best not to show her excitement at what had been an engaging and thrilling trial. “I can’t believe that it’s up to us now.”

“We better get it right,” Cheryl said and then smiled, “Or that Richard Peck will hunt us down.”

“Or Knox Booth will,” Susan said as she returned a grin.

“Do you believe he’s guilty?” Cheryl asked her as her eyebrows furrowed.

Susan thought about her question and before she could answer, they were interrupted, “Ladies,” juror number one said as he looked back and forth between Susan and Cheryl, “Are you ready to start discussing the verdict?”

Susan nodded back at him, “Yes,” she said.

***

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” Judge Horsman asked as the courtroom came to a hushed silence.

“They have, your honor,” the court clerk responded.

“Bring the jury in,” Judge Horsman instructed. The jury room doors were opened, and all twelve of them walked in a single file, each taking their designated seat. “Members of the jury,” Judge Horsman began, “Have you reached a verdict?”

Juror one stood and addressed Judge Horsman, “Yes, your honor, we have.”

***

Susan Lancaster followed the crowd out of the courtroom and was patient in doing so. Her time spent on the jury had been what she would describe as an adventure and it would be something she would remember for the rest of her life. When she had first been brought to the court to be interviewed, she never thought she would have ever been involved in a murder trial, and yet now that it was over, she was somewhat sullen over the fact. What would she do now? Since she had heard all the details surrounding the case the very thought of returning to her nine to five was something she could not imagine. She needed an extended break. She needed to enjoy life more and seek out adventures while she still had time left on this Earth.

“So, we going for that drink now?” Cheryl asked as she tagged along next to Susan.

Susan looked down in her direction and nodded, “Yes, let’s not stop at one, I could use about five.” They laughed in unison and Susan was beginning to understand that she may have met a long-life friend in this tiny woman, one who had been placed in the same room as her- only so that they could participate in the outcome of another person’s life.

“The first one is on me,” Cheryl said as she gripped Susan’s arm lightly and then broke away from her once they reached the hallway outside of the courtroom. Cheryl stopped a few feet away once she realized that Susan had stopped walking and she turned back to see Susan staring off into the distance. Cheryl followed Susan’s gaze to a group of reporters who were huddled around the man at the center of the trial, Knox Booth. Cheryl walked back to beside Susan and spoke quietly to her, “He’s a beautiful man, isn’t he?”

Susan nodded as she remained fixated on Knox, “You can say that, but I feel sorry for him.”

“Why?” Cheryl asked her, “He’s free.”

“From prison,” Susan muttered, “But I hope he feels some peace after all the stress and pain he’s had in his life.”

Cheryl scoffed at the remark, not quite understanding what Susan was implying, “But, he has everything.”

“I don’t know about that,” Susan whispered as she looked back down at Cheryl, “Money doesn’t buy everything.”

Cheryl nodded in agreement, “Yes, you’re right,” she agreed, “But you know what Susan?”

“What?”

Cheryl looked over at Knox Booth as he calmly answered questions, “Something tells me that he’s going to be all right.”

“I hope so,” Susan said as she turned to face Cheryl, “Okay, I'm ready,” she said, “Let’s go have that drink.”

(7277 words)

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#2

tate gonna have his first novel done by the time Booth retires.

Shout out to ml002, schultzy, slashacm, tedward!
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[Image: f4IDm9I.jpg] I [Image: specterspp.png] I [Image: czechup.png] I [Image: gs89eGV.png] I [Image: f4IDm9I.jpg]
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09-05-2018, 10:04 PMBeaver Wrote: Wow look what the PT affiliation has done to our pristine league.
12-19-2018, 12:31 AMBeaver Wrote: I personally blame the PT affiliation for handing out massive amounts of free TPE to all these players, inflating the TPE they're at when they get called up.
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#3

+1

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