Law School Murders: Without Hesitation

“Let’s take for example the defendant’s age, race, height, speaking style…all of these are factors in the minds of a jury. Now, you can have the most astute and erudite person and still not be able to properly ascertain whether the man or woman is guilty.” Kim paced the floor of the lecture hall. In reality, she had been exhausted from the book tour but felt rejuvenated talking to her classes.

“I would say that most cases are determined by body language, dress, and then actual words spoken during the trial. If your defendant or the person you are prosecuting becomes fidgety or finicky, then that could spell trouble for you as either the DA or PD. Does anyone have a question?”

“Yes, Mr. Mossberg.”

“If the guy or girl is sitting up there and they’ve got a three thousand dollar suit, smart shoes, looks completely presentable, and you see the jury is exhibiting clear signs of disapproval, isn’t that time for you to switch tactics if you're a public defender?”

Kim thought about the question. She let go around in her head over and over again. She saw muzzle flashes and had to catch her breath.

“Are you okay, Professor Jergensen?”

“Yes. Peaches and cream. Now, does anyone want to venture an idea as to see what Mr. Mossberg has pointed out?”

“I will,” Julia Montebank said. “If the jury even notices the slightest twitch or scowl, it could mean a complete change of pace for the entire trial.”

“Very good Misd Montebank. It’s true in certain circumstances, the only way for the jury to understand the defendant’s innocence or guilt is in the posture. If you see a slumped over defendant you’re literally going to think they’re not upright. That they are so weighed down by guilt that they just lose all sense of who they are.”

Kim continued to walk and fight off the flashbacks and the current state she was in during her time in the lecture hall.

“Class is dismissed.” As the students filed out of the room, Kim grabbed her phone and started looking up the murders on campus sentencing date. It was two weeks away. By virtue of her efforts to always tell the truth, she had ensured that nothing that Brandon and she discussed had anything to do with killing those young men. She maintained in the deposition and her days thereafter the trial and sentencing. In her mind, she could just imagine the bodies piled on top of each other. What she expected was the idea that there would be a harsh sentencing. She expected life or death. She expected the ruling to be swift and just as a Mameluke sword.

In the time that she spent gathering her belongings to go home, she could have lived ten lifetimes searching her soul for the right answer. She knew it was black white. Everything was black white and whatever gray areas meant that something was amiss. She figured that there must have been something wrong with the way the people looked at her. Their grimaces and upturned noses started to eat at her soul. She wanted to be Yawquisha. She seemed to repel all negativity. Even with Kim’s impressive book sales and television and podcast appearances, she still couldn’t shake the fact that she was the last person Brandon talked to that day. Before the grisly scene, he seemed sedate, even cool. She had her suspicions but there was nothing she could do about it. She had been unable to prevent another string of murders. Her sole saving grace was the fact she knew that she had said every bit of the truth without hesitation.