I Thought I’d Take a Peek at the Jury*
Have you ever been summoned for jury duty? The process works differently in different places, but basically, any adult can be required to respond to a jury summons. Where I live, you get an official summons that indicates your date of service. You appear on that date and after signing in, you wait. And wait. Sometimes you’re chosen for a jury, sometimes not. Lawyers, of course, want to choose jurors who will be sympathetic to their side of a case, which is why, at least in the US, each lawyer can identify jurors that will be excused (presumably jurors who may be seen as sympathetic to the other side). There are a lot of stories of juries and jurors in crime fiction, and they give us an interesting look at that side of law and law enforcement.
The process of jury summons isn’t particularly formal in some places. For example, as Craig Johnson’s Death Without Company begins, Absaroka County, Wyoming Sheriff Walt Longmire needs to assemble a group of jurors. So, he has his deputy, Victoria ‘Vic’ Moretti wait outside a supermarket and stop people as they leave. He and Moretti act as a sort of ‘jury press gang.’ It’s not a fancy process, but it works for them. Although this scene isn’t directly connected to the main case – the death of elderly Mari Baroja – it shows how jury summons work in some places.
Once a jury pool is gathered, they’re screened with questions. That’s especially important in ‘hot button’ cases like the one in William Deverell’s Trial of Passion. In that novel, recently retired lawyer Arthur Beauchamp is pressed back into service to defend Jonathan O’Donnell, acting dean of the University of British Columbia Law School. Law student Kimberly Martin has accused O’Donnell of raping her. At first, he claims the incident never happened. Then, he admits having sex with her, but claims it was consensual. For this jury, it’s a matter of ‘she said/he said,’ and they’re going to have quite a time trying to determine who’s telling the truth, and whether what actually happened constitutes rape. It’s going to take all of Beauchamp’s skill if his client is to be acquitted.
Getting the best jury is a part of what a good lawyer does, and some lawyers hire jury consultants to work with them and their clients. That’s what happens in Perri O’Shaughnessy’s Breach of Promise. Nina Reilly is a Tahoe, California-based attorney who’s trying to build her client base. She gets a chance to mix with the rich and powerful when she gets an invitation to a yacht party that wealthy business entrepreneur Lindy Markov is having to celebrate her husband Mike’s birthday. The Markovs own a very successful business and are social leaders, so Nina is persuaded to go. At the party, Nina witnesses the scene when Lindy discovers Mike is having an affair with the company’s Vice President for Finance, Rachel Pembroke. Then, Lindy is served papers ordering her to leave the home she’s shared with Mike for over twenty years. She also has to give up the profits from the business. Lindy hires Nina to represent her in a civil suit, but this is going to be a difficult case. Mike’s lawyer is a very good, experienced attorney. And he has the argument on his side that Mike and Lindy were never legally married; they were common-law spouses. So, Nina will need to use whatever flexibility she has to make sure the jury sees things her way. For that, she hires a jury consultant, Genevieve Suchat. The case is not an easy one, and it’s not spoiling the story to say that there’s a shocking event during the trial that changes everything. It’s an interesting look at jurors, at what they do, and at the interactions among them and the other people associated with trials.
Juries are supposed to listen carefully to all of the evidence in a case and make their determination. But sometimes, the evidence leads in an odd direction. For example, in Agatha Christie’s Death in the Clouds, Hercule Poirot is on a flight from Paris to London when one of the passengers, Marie Morisot, collapses and dies by what turns out to be poison. The weapon the police are hunting for is likely something along the lines of a blowpipe. So, when a blowpipe is found tucked into his seat on the place, the coroner’s jury is very quick to leap to the conclusion that Poirot is the killer. The coroner is convinced Poirot is innocent, but Poirot is quite miffed about it, and determines to find out who the real killer is.
Anyone can get called for jury duty, too. Just ask Ian Rankin’s John Rebus. In the short story Not Provan, Rebus attends the trial of thug and long-time criminal Willie Provan, whom Rebus has never liked. Provan’s been accused of killing a football fan who strayed onto his gang’s territory, and there’s plenty of evidence against him. Defending counsel, though, comes up with a strategy that just may get him acquitted. When Rebus sees what may happen, he decides to do some sleuthing of his own, to see if he can find something to undo that strategy. In the process, he comes across one of the jurors, who’s apparently had the same idea as Rebus, and who has set out to find evidence. The juror finds a key piece of evidence, and now Rebus has to decide what to do about it. It might not be conventional, but then, neither is John Rebus.
There are, of course, many, many other crime novels in which jurors play a role. Space only allows a few examples. But I’d love to hear about those that have stayed with you.
*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Fred Ebb and Bob Fosse’s When Velma Takes the Stand.