Blood Oath by Linda Fairstein

Author:Linda Fairstein
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-03-26T04:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-TWO

“Good morning,” I said, standing in front of the room of twenty-three grand jurors, arrayed before me in two semicircular rows of ten people, and three beyond them—one of whom was the foreman. “My name is Alexandra Cooper.”

This was the first case I was presenting to them since returning from my leave of absence. It was essential for me to get started in the grand jury. I couldn’t issue subpoenas without the signature of the foreman, nor did I have the power to compel witnesses to talk to me, while they could be summoned to appear before the grand jury with ease.

I slipped in ahead of my colleagues who were in the adjacent waiting room with witnesses for their own cases—cops and civilians—who would testify in expectation that the jurors would return an indictment, which was required in all felony cases in New York State.

Some jurors were still reading newspapers and noshing on bagels or egg sandwiches. A few were attentive, spotting a lawyer they hadn’t seen before, and looking me over in my navy blue pinstripe skirt suit, ready to hear the charges.

“I would like to open an investigation into the matter regarding John Doe,” I said. There was no point naming Zachary Palmer before I had proof certain that he had committed these crimes.

“At this time, the charges include rape in the third degree and sexual abuse in the third degree,” I said. I had opted to start with statutory crimes rather than the far more inflammatory first-degree forcible rape charges that Lucy had alluded to when she visited New York six years ago.

I was used to what happened when jurors heard the word “rape.” Newspapers were flattened on the wooden panels in front of each chair and the breakfast food was bagged and put beneath their seats. It always got the full attention of everyone in the room, but I hadn’t expected the hands of four women jurors to shoot up in the air the instant I stated the crime.

“I usually prefer questions after the presentation,” I said, “but I’m happy to come to each of you and take them individually.”

There was no point tainting the panel with comments from any of the jurors, so I climbed the three steps to get to the first woman.

I leaned in close to her and asked her what she wanted to tell me.

“Look, I’ve going through a rough patch since last year, with all this Me Too business,” the woman said. “I had a bad experience with a guy when I was in college, twenty years ago, and I’m finally dealing with it in therapy. I just don’t think I’m the right person to sit on a case like this.”

“May I ask you, was the ‘experience’ you’re referring to a sexual assault?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said, “at least that’s what I think.”

“Did you report it to anyone at the time?”

“No. No, I just wrote it off to having too much to drink,” she said, “and now it kind of haunts me.

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