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Friday, 20 July 2007 09:26 |
At the midway point of the trial of John Berchielli, the proceedings were thrown into chaos. June 19th, 2007, brought a long morning of delays involving the transfer of co-defendant Sheldon Webber from his place of custody at the local jail. The empty time gave Judge Mason opportunity to deal with observers who showed up to the courtroom in apparel emblazoned with pot leaves, a development most distasteful to the judge. Overcome by repugnance, he had many words of pure antipathy but very few with which to describe the possible consequences.
“I think that’s damn poor judgment on your part,” Judge Mason lectured heavily towards the audience seats, brow furrowed and index finger jabbing forward with indignation. “This is a different matter than free speech. I’m not sure what I’ll do…I’ll try to keep it within the Constitution, but I can’t tell you what I’ll do.”
Flustered, the judge managed only vague threats to back up a demand for the vanishing of the pot leaf adornments, then left the court in recess until Webber could be produced. If he thought that he had restored order and decorum to the case, however, he was quite mistaken. To the contrary, the tedium and idleness of waiting appeared to set the stage for mischief.
As supporters scattered out in search of nondescript clothing, the jurors were left to linger in and around the courthouse. Though instructed not to speak to witnesses or discuss the case with anyone, the ample free time provided so much opportunity for temptation that some jurors were overcome.
One violation, in particular, caused so much alarm that it triggered a conference between the judge and the attorneys in chambers. As the details were slowly revealed, it began to look as though a mistrial was imminent. “It has come to my attention that a juror in this case engaged in a conversation with a person outside this courtroom,” Judge Mason explained once the jury had reassembled for the afternoon session.
It turned out that one juror had an innocent encounter during break, and the whisperings about juror misconduct whipped up her worries of guilt. During the recess, she had discovered that her own niece, who had been a teller during a bank robbery, was outside an adjacent courtroom, waiting to be called as a witness in the trial of the accused robber. Surprised to see each other, the juror and her niece engaged in an enthusiastic conversation in the hallway, but she soon second-guessed her own behavior. Afterwards, believing that it was her conduct that had been called into question, the juror penned a confessional note to the judge. “I got to thinking, ‘Maybe I was the one who was seen talking to a witness,’ ” she wrote, peppering her note with apologies and remorse.
Judge Mason was unconcerned - this was not his culprit. “I think this is a case of ‘the wicked pleath, but no man pursueth,’ ” he quipped to the unnecessarily repentant juror, putting her mind at rest. The judge was concerned about a much more serious infringement.
The juror who was involved in the actual breach turned out to be an alternate, Ms. Raine Kirchler. And the party with whom she had committed the violation was none other than the author herself. Without warning, I was thrust through the barrier between subject and reporter, and suddenly I became part of my own story.
Puzzled and concerned by the sight of a young woman furiously scribbling notes during the events of the trial, Ms. Kirchler was unable to contain her curiosity once she was given opportunity to indulge it. Approaching this reporter, she spat forth an aggressive series of questions, demanding to know who I was, why I was there, and for what reasons I was interested in the court proceedings. Though such inquiries are commonly made of observers at this particular courthouse, Ms. Kirchler’s investigation quickly exceeded the scope and the intensity of the questions typically asked by deputies and commissioners. It was only partway through the encounter, as she began rattling on about how the Child Protective Service had changed more than she realized, that I spied her juror badge. It had been hanging near her hip, clipped to the bottom of her shirt and kept well below eye-level.
The defendant, however, had recognized Ms. Kirchler as a juror immediately, and he became optimistic that a mistrial would result from her attempt at initiating a conversation about the case. “That’s misconduct,” Berchielli stated as he went to inform his attorney of the conversation. “They’ll need to pick a new jury now.”
As the story was passed though various sources, however, it took on new shades of perspective. By the time it reached Judge Mason, it had transformed into a story about a spectator proselytizing to known jurors in an effort to influence the outcome of the case. Nothing could have been more contrary to the reality of the situation, but the judge declined to investigate the hearsay before allowing his frustration to boil over into public insults.
With the jury sent on break once again, Judge Mason launched a volley of offensive terms at me -- stupid, immature, irresponsible, foolish -- and then began to explore the possibility of a jury tampering charge. At the conclusion of his tirade, I was sworn in on the witness stand and asked to detail the discussion in question. Quickly, the error of blame became apparent. “Thank you, Ms. Nelson,” the judge said, cutting me off and excusing me from the stand halfway through my testimony. “My concerns about you have been diminished.”
When questioned, three other jurors admitted to witnessing the encounter between Ms. Kirchner and the spectator. One at a time, they were brought into the courtroom, and each corroborated my account of the conversation. With fault proven unequivocally, the next question before the court was how to properly rectify the situation. The first step was easy enough. Ms. Kirchner was called into the courtroom and promptly removed from the case. After she turned in her badge and left the room, the judge appeared relieved. “She’s been late on numerous occasions,” Judge Mason related, shaking his head in disapproval. “And, frankly, she’s something of a loose cannon.”
Although the offending juror successfully excised, it was still unclear whether her violation had infected the remainder of the jurors. Fiercely resistant to the idea of dismissing entire jury and starting anew, Judge Mason concluded that the jurors had not overheard anything that would bias them in their judgments. He was determined to keep the jury together and press forward with the case, fearing the wasted time that would result from declaring a mistrial. Jury selection alone had taken several days the first time around, and the judge was due to return to Washington state at the end of the current week. “I promised my wife that I’d be home for the weekend,” Judge Mason explained.
And with that decision, the trial went onward as normal. The only reminder of the incident was an empty seat in the jury box for the rest of the proceedings, but no one seemed to pay this much mind. The important thing was that Judge Mason’s travel plans would remain intact, and that his weekends of summertime leisure would be saved.
Next: The Defense's Case
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Last Updated on Sunday, 29 July 2007 05:10 |
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