Beau sent his paralegal to the airport. Dr. Pringle needed to be picked up. It was unusual but Beau had asked the Judge to permit Pringle’s testimony on hate, rage and the dissociative state to be video taped on the first day of evidence. The prosecution would be able to cross examine the psychiatrist but the jury wouldn’t see the testimony until after the prosecution rested its case.

When Roberta returned with Dr. Pringle she was spitting mad exclaiming with the fury of an accosted woman, “He stuck his tongue down my throat!” Beau had met Jonathan Pringle in his Vancouver office a few weeks earlier and came away very impressed. He had an extraordinary mind and was one of the world’s leading authorities on the human capacity for violence. But that said, it turns out he came with considerable baggage which would eventually see his career ruined and his reputation destroyed.

Beau knew none of that when Roberta stood before him as angry as he had ever seen her and she was looking to him for support.

That she had good reason was not in doubt, but if it meant confronting Dr. Pringle less than an hour before he testified, that was just not going to happen.

Jury trials are a fascinating strategic contests between the prosecutor and defence lawyer, both battling for the minds of each and every juror. Of course, in criminal trials the defence doesn’t need to win over the minds of each and every juror.

Just one would do.

The presumption of innocence, the foundation upon which our criminal justice system rests, means the jury must decide unanimously on the facts presented and beyond any reasonable doubt that the defendant is guilty of the crime charged. It is a high test, intentionally so, and it has for the most part ensured that very few innocent defendants have been convicted in Canadian legal history.

From his earliest years as a criminal lawyer Beau had thought the contest was unfair, that the system was stacked against the defendant. On the one side a highly trained police force, on demand forensic resources at the disposal of the prosecutor, resources that would be unavailable for all but a few rich defendants, expert prosecutors and judges and a system which Beau had always thought was systemically biased in favour of conviction; why would the police charge this guy if he wasn’t guilty? If you’ve been charged with a crime in this country, you’re probably guilty right?  It was stacked against any defendant.

On the other side, the defendant’s side, the defence lawyer.

In any event, it had driven Beau from the beginning. In court he had become an uninhibited interrogator of witnesses, often incurring the wrath of prosecutors and judges alike. He had gained a reputation as a fearless, powerful and fierce defender of his clients.

It was where his nickname ‘Bear’ came from. One day, not long into his career, a sheriff’s deputy escorting Beau’s scared client into court turned to him and said, “Don’t worry son, you have a bear defending you. You’ll do just fine.” And so it was, Beau ‘Bear’ Jackson.

Beau believed all that stood between his client and an unfair verdict, was him. He would not be told to be more courteous or have more decorum in a court of law, not if it meant the evidence would not be tested. With each case Beau steeled himself for the battle ahead, this righteous sense of purpose and fairness, driving him on.

Joe Stokes was flat out not guilty of first degree murder, not in Beau’s mind, not on these facts. He had killed Hank Woods, and he had acknowledged that fact. But this was a crime of rage and hate, not of planning and premeditation. This was second degree murder. That was the proper, fair result. Beau knew it was critical to have a sharp focus on an achievable goal in any trial. Second degree was a fair achievable goal.

Beau trusted juries. He had done many jury trials and had come to trust that a good jury, with a good foreperson, always returned a correct verdict. There is something powerful at play when twelve men and women weigh the evidence, argue its merits, argue and fight inside the jury room, something powerful that works. Beau had often thought judges by themselves made the wrong decision in his cases. He had never thought any jury had.

The first order of business with every jury is to introduce your defence, in a simple understandable way. This is a jury, not a bunch of lawyers, they’re everyday people with common sense, and everyday people with the wisdom of the group. Beau trusted that. He rose to address the jury that first morning.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I know the weight upon you right now is enormous and you probably wish you weren’t here today. I know as well that some of you, maybe all of you have already decided in your mind’s eye what the verdict should be.

I know Hank Woods was well liked and I know that most people in Whitehorse are outraged at this death, maybe even some of you are angry that he was given a second trial, when this has already been decided.”

He continued, “I know that you will have heard or read many opinions, some of them I have read myself in the Whitehorse Star, probably capturing what the good people of Whitehorse think about all this. Think about Joe Stokes.

Joe fixed his eyes on every member of the jury, moving from each one of the twelve men and women, deliberately and without words imposing the full weight of their responsibility on them,

“So all I can do is this. I’m going to ask you to do whatever you can to be fair. That is all we can ask of any of us, wherever there’s a tough decision to be made. Do what you can to scrub your mind of what you think right now, before you have heard any evidence, before it has been tested, scrub your minds clean. Let what you learn over the next few weeks lead you to a verdict. Let the power harnessed with any jury of twelve good men and women lead you forward.”

It was time to let this jury know his defence, “Joe Stokes killed Hank Woods. There is simply no disputing that he walked up to Hank in a bar in Ross River and shot him dead. That is not at issue and we will not waste your time arguing otherwise. There is only one question for you to decide.

Why?

Why did Joe Stokes kill Hank Woods? How is it that an otherwise law abiding citizen, someone many of you will have known over the years, how did he get to the point where all of the controls that stop us from doing bad things, all of them failed to control Joe that night? What happened to his mind?”

Beau was at the heart of his opening.

“Joe Stokes was in such a rage, had accumulated such hatred over the years, he wasn’t in his right mind. You’ll hear from one of the world’s leading forensic psychiatrists, an expert on rage and hatred and the human mind. He’ll speak in complicated ways about research and dissociative behaviour and quite frankly I won’t be surprised if you don’t get it. I’ve spent many hours with Dr. Pringle and more hours researching dissociative behaviour and I still don’t get it. But I think you will. Let me put this in a way we can all understand: Joe Stokes was out of his mind with anger.”

Beau was deliberate now. He needed to make sure the jury understood what the key question was, the only question they would have to wrestle with.

“Joe Stokes was out of his mind, when he shot Hank Woods with that revolver. What else could explain it?” he exclaimed, more statement than question.

Beau needed to be careful. He knew he had to establish a relationship with this jury and as with all relationships it had to be built on respect and trust and he had to let this jury know that he trusted them. Any disrespect, any perception of disrerspect, even if it was unintended would undermine that. If they thought he was talking down to them, he would lose them. 

As he spoke, not three feet from the front row of the jury box, forcing them to look at him, Beau scanned each face, trying to read their minds. Beau sat down. He didn’t need all the members of the jury to think about what he had just told them. He just needed one. He scanned each person, looking for any sign, a nod, a smile, a gaze, anything signalling ‘okay, you have my attention.’ That’s all he needed.

Beau had set in play another piece of his strategy and he knew that even the prosecutor had missed it. He’d introduced the Whitehorse Star to the jury. He had no idea if it would come to anything but he had come to think the newspaper would become part of the second trail at some point.

_________________________________________________________

By the end of the first week the trial was well underway, the prosecutor meticulously recreating the events surrounding the shooting of Hank Woods, painstakingly recreating the actions of Joe Stokes.

He was good. Gallagher knew Beau’s main strategy and he aimed to drive a stake right through it. Any fact, no matter how insignificant, any fact that could possibly contradict the suggestion that Joe was ‘out of his mind’ was entered into evidence. Anything that would support his argument that Joe intended to kill Woods was introduced to the jury. It was exactly why Beau had agreed to admit that Joe had killed Woods, he’d wanted to prevent just what was happening. He’d wanted to prevent the jury hearing all of the evidence and any suggestion that Joe acted intentionally.

But Gallagher had seen him coming a mile away. The case against his client was mounting.

The weekend couldn’t come soon enough. Beau needed the time to assess the damage and rethink his case.

But that could wait for the moment. First order of business was a good meal, a nice bottle of wine and some time to himself. He found a nice table in the back corner of the Klondike Rib & Salmon on 2nd Avenue.

The tensions of the week were starting to wash off, no doubt something to do with the bottle of wine that had gone down just fine.

“You know what you’re doing is wrong.” Beau looked up and surveyed the young man who stood over him at the table, “You know Stokes is guilty. How can you defend that man!”

Normally, Beau would have resented the interruption. It was not just intrusive, this guy was aggressive and on the attack. But in fact, Beau was thrilled. He recognized right away this must be the young reporter behind all the negative coverage of Joe Stokes and the death of Hank Woods. He had met the enemy and the enemy had walked right up to his table. Perfect.

Beau had not known how he could find out about the Whitehorse Star and the reporter who had covered this story since the beginning. He had all of the clippings and suspected that the press coverage could become significant in the second trial. Beau didn’t know how yet but he trusted his instincts and here he was, this unsuspecting young reporter was right here in front of him. His own star witness.

“Beau Jackson, lawyer for Joe Stokes” he put out his hand,

“What’s your name?”

“Peter Franklyn, journalist for the Whitehorse Star.” A little pretentious thought Beau but that fits.

“Well Peter Franklyn, journalist for the Whitehorse Star, I want to suggest to you, and your boss, your publisher that you might want to tone down the opinion in your biased coverage.” Beau wanted to poke the beast, he was patronizing and he knew it. His tone of voice feigned concern for Peter and his paper and the young journalist was having none of it.

He took the bait, “The people of Whitehorse deserve the truth, they deserve to know the facts in this case. Stokes has already been convicted once and now he’s back for another trial. It’s ridiculous. The only thing that has changed are the lawyers. It’s not right!”

Beau saw himself in Peter; when he was a young lawyer he was brash and aggressive, driven by the righteous indignation of knowing he was right. Peter was yet to learn that can be a tripwire if you don’t mind where you’re stepping. He got Peter, he knew what made him tick.

“Peter, I agree with you.” Beau replied, disarming him for a moment, “I agree that the people of Whitehorse deserve the facts. Your paper is powerful and influential, it is the Yukon’s paper of record, reporting on all the important events that touch the lives of Yukoners. Been ever so. And for sure this trial is an important event. But Peter, what your readers deserve are the facts, stopping to emphasize his point, the facts, not your version of the facts and not what you want the people of the Yukon to think about those facts.”

He could see that Peter was furious, struggling to remain composed. Beau pressed his advantage, “You and your publisher need to be careful. You care too much. You want my client to be convicted of first degree murder again. And if you’re not careful you’re going to interfere with a fair trial for my client. You’d better be careful.” he repeated. Peter was wordless but his flushed cheeks and the tension in his face betrayed his anger.

Mission accomplished thought Beau.

Peter turned on his heels and left, “See you in court.”

Every word had been intentional. Beau had wanted this young reporter to leave the meeting furious with him, even better if he returned to the Star and reported the conversation word for word to his publisher. Beau knew that warning any journalist “to be careful” would be taken as an insult, even a threat, a red rag to a bull.

Challenge accepted.

During his trial prep Beau had recognized he needed to keep an eye on the editorial bias he’d recognized in the Whitehorse Star. He’d meticulously read and kept all the articles and editorial opinions for over a year now and brought them with him, just in case. But now, he thought to himself, as he reflected on this encounter with Peter, now I have to get this on the record.