The judge called a five-minute recess and ordered both attorneys to a meeting at her bench. “Mr. Baxter.” She looked at him with eyes that could pierce a piece of metal. “You will not make a mockery of this court. If you seek permission to show this video, you need a reason.”
“I have one.” Luke directed his next statement to the court stenographer. “If the court would please review Mr. Landsford’s comments from the first day of trial. The witness on the stand was policewoman Aspyn Jones.”
Landsford’s face was red. “This is ridiculous.”
“Proceed.” Judge Wells shot a look at Landsford. “If your comment opens the door for the video, we need to review it.” She motioned to the stenographer.
The stenographer found the spot in the record and read it out loud. “Mr. Landsford said, ‘The defendant in this case, Mr. Quinn, likes to say that his Bible study group has changed lives, that the students are better off because of it.’?”
“That’s all.” Luke thanked the woman and turned to Judge Wells. “Since Mr. Landsford called into question whether students are better off because of the Raise the Bar program, the defense has the right to explore that issue. The condition of students prior to the club. The video will do just that.”
For a long time Judge Wells only stared at Luke. Then she breathed deep and nodded. “Permission granted.”
“Your Honor, I can’t believe this court is going to—” Landsford looked furious.
“Permission granted.” She rapped her gavel on the bench. “Court will resume. Everyone take their seats.”
Luke could finally breathe again. He could hardly believe how things had worked out, that Landsford had slipped up and allowed him a chance to have the video shown in court. He had the equipment in place and a remote at his table. A bailiff dimmed the lights and the video began to play.
Wendell’s work on the brief film was spectacular. It began with a burst of sad, dismal statistics. Then a slide that read: Those are the statistics. These are the stories.
The next part of the film was a more personal look at the losses from the previous year. Rasha Carter, a sophomore. Killed in an exchange of gunfire between two rival gangs. In the school’s own parking lot.
Rasha had been a journalism student, so Wendell’s friend Alicia had given the footage to Wendell for the film. With Lecrae’s “Don’t Waste Your Life” playing in the background, the video showed Rasha getting set up in front of the camera, giggling as her microphone struggled to stay in place, and then finally staring into the lens.
“My name is Rasha Carter. One day I’m going to be President of the United States. But first I’m going to finish school with straight As and go to Harvard University.” She grinned into the camera. “At least that’s my dream.”
The next clip contained the devastating imagery of Rasha’s family gathered around an open hole at the cemetery. Her mother breaking down, falling over the casket as they lowered it into the ground. “Not my baby . . . not my Rasha!”
A few sniffles came from the jury box.
The film ended with photos of other Hamilton students who had been killed and those were followed by a montage of news headlines featuring Hamilton High’s worst criminal element. The final image was the quote from Alexander Hamilton. Those who stand for nothing . . . will fall for anything.
When the lights came up, Luke looked at his notes. “The defense would like to call Rosie Carter.”
A sad, small woman—the one from the video—stood at the back of the courtroom and made her way toward the front. As she approached she stopped at Wendell’s chair and put her hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.” She wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Then she took the witness stand.
For the next ten minutes Luke gently asked Rosie one question after another. He established that Rosie was still grieving the loss of her precious Rasha and that life at Hamilton High had previously been dangerous and deeply discouraging.
Then came the surprise.
Rosie was one of the parent volunteers involved in bringing free food to the students in the Raise the Bar club. “Have you seen a change in the students at Hamilton High, Mrs. Carter?” Luke allowed more emotion in his tone. This woman deserved her say.
“Yes.” Rosie Carter looked at the jury. At every member on the panel. “Don’t you let that Mr. Landsford tell you there hasn’t been a difference. We lost Dwayne. But so many other kids have been saved. So many. And even Dwayne was saved, because today he’s in heaven. Safe for all eternity. All because Principal Quinn was brave enough to start an after-school Bible study.”
“Objection.” Landsford didn’t yell out the word this time. He smiled at Rosie and then at the judge. “Beyond the scope of the question.”
Judge Wells thought for a long moment. “Overruled.” She nodded to Rosie Carter. “The witness may continue.”
And Rosie did just that. Luke had to work to contain his smile as Rosie told about one student after another who had changed for the better because of the club. Then her eyes welled up. “Principal Quinn couldn’t stand by and let these kids kill themselves. So he started the club. Just for the kids who wanted it.” She paused, her tone feverish. “In that way . . . Rasha’s death wasn’t in vain.”
When it came time for her cross-examination, Landsford passed.
There was nothing he could ask her that would undo the impression she’d made on the jury. Luke could’ve danced on the ceiling he was so happy.
This was where he’d planned to rest his case. But the comment from Andy Nelson yesterday had changed his mind. What Luke was about to do was risky. Cami’s father could’ve been setting him up to fail here. But if so, Luke would know soon enough.
“The defense calls one final witness. Andy Nelson, please take the stand.”
A murmur rose from the spectators and even the jurors. Judge Wells rapped her gavel on the bench. “Order. Silence in the courtroom, please.”
The noise settled down and slowly, under the glare of his own attorney, Andy took the stand. He looked shaky, more nervous than the first time he’d been called.
“I’d like to make it clear to the jury”—Luke looked at each of them—“that Andy Nelson is testifying today on behalf of the defense.” He paused. “Although Mr. Nelson brought this case against Principal Quinn, today he will testify on the principal’s behalf.”
Landsford dropped his pen and leaned back in his seat. Clearly he had not expected this.
Luke formed his first question with great care. Help me here, God. He was glad his dad was still there, still praying from the back row. “Mr. Nelson, it’s come to my attention that you’ve gone through some personal changes since filing suit against Wendell Quinn. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir.” Andy wore a long-sleeve white cotton shirt and light blue jeans. He had cut his hair for the occasion, and though he still looked nervous, his eyes were brighter than they’d been all trial.
“Okay, and could you tell the jury about those changes? In your own words?”
Andy’s eyes filled with tears. He looked to the first row of spectators, where Cami and Jordy sat with a small group of Hamilton High students. The man wiped at his eyes and looked at the jury. “I made a mistake when I sued Principal Quinn. There were . . . personal reasons why I didn’t want my daughter reading the Bible.” He looked at her and his tears came harder. He shook his head and whispered, “I’m sorry, baby. I never meant for this to . . . I’m sorry.”
Landsford looked like he might object, but instead he only crossed his arms and stared at the table in front of him.
“Mr. Nelson, if you could please stick to the question.” Luke used his most gentle tone. He loved the exchange between Andy and his daughter. But this wasn’t the place for it, and he wanted the jurors to hear the reason Andy had changed his mind.