A Matter of Conviction

“Well, you know.”

“No, I don’t know. Would you please explain it, Mrs. Riley?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Bell,” Samalson said, “but what are you getting at?”

“I don’t think I have to mince words here, Your Honor. The dead boy in this case was a Puerto Rican. I am trying to find out whether or not Mrs. Riley may feel the neighborhood is getting run down because Puerto Ricans are moving into it.”

“Then don’t mince words, and ask the question directly.”

“Is that what you feel, Mrs. Riley?”

“Well, I certainly don’t think the Puerto Ricans are helping real estate val—”

“Challenge,” Hank said.

“Would you have any objections to sitting on a jury where the case being tried is a murder case?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been on three juries in the past two years. I don’t like jury duty, and I wish they’d stop calling me.”

“If there are no objections,” Samalson said sourly, “I think we can excuse this good citizen.”

“Do you have any children, Mrs. Frankworth?”

“Yes. I have three children.”

“Boys or girls?”

“Mixed.”

“How old are they?”

“Thirteen, ten and eight.”

“Could you send three boys to the electric chair?”

“Yes, I think so. If they were guilty.”

“Do you think they are guilty?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Have you read anything about this case in the newspapers?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve formed no opinion yet as to whether the boys are guilty or innocent.”

“No. I don’t believe what I read in the newspapers.”

“Will you believe what you hear in this court?”

“Yes.”

“Will you believe everything you hear?”

“What do you mean?”

“You may hear conflicting stories from the prosecution and the defense. Your delivering a verdict assumes you must believe one or the other.”

“I’d have to hear the facts first. Then I’d decide what was right and what was wrong.”

“Is murder wrong, Mrs. Frankworth?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“Not always.”

“I don’t think it’s wrong if the murder was committed in self-defense.”

“Have you ever known any Puerto Ricans?”

“No, sir.”

“Would you mind living next door to one?”

“I’ve never lived next door to one, so I wouldn’t know. I guess if they were good neighbors, I wouldn’t mind at all.”

“Were you born in this city, Mrs. Frankworth?”

“No.”

“Where were you born?”

“In England. I came to America when I was twelve years old.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Frankworth. If the court please, I have no objection to empaneling this juror.”

“What sort of work do you do, Mr. Abbeney?”

“I own a chain of restaurants.”

“Where?”

“Here in the city.”

“Do you employ Puerto Ricans?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“They’re good workers.”

“How many Puerto Ricans are in your employ?”

“Oh, I’d say about fifty or so.”

“Ever deal with them personally?”

“Sure. I like Puerto Ricans.”

“Do you employ any Negroes?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I just never have, that’s all.”

“You don’t have any principles against hiring Negroes, do you?”

“I should say not. I’ve just never had the opportunity to employ them, that’s all.”

“Mr. Bell,” Samalson said, “as far as I know, there are no Negroes involved in this case. This may become a rather lengthy trial, and I can see no reason for prolonging it by questioning prospective jurors on matters which can have no possible bearing on the case.”

“I was simply trying to find out, Your Honor, how far Mr. Abbeney’s tolerance extended.”

“Nonetheless, his attitude toward Negroes could not have any relevant bearing on the case before this court.”

“Then I have no further questions, Your Honor. I’d like this man excused.”

It took a week for both sides to agree on the jurors they wanted. At the end of that time the attorneys made their opening statements. Hank told the jury he would prove beyond reasonable doubt that the three boys were guilty of first-degree murder. The defense attorneys, quite naturally, told the jury that they would prove the boys were innocent.

“You will hear a lot of inflammatory oratory during this trial,” one of the defense attorneys said, “a lot of impassioned speeches about racial tolerance, about physical handicaps, about this poor innocent blind boy who was allegedly ruthlessly murdered by these three youngsters. But we ask you, in the name of justice, in the name of fairness, in the name of God, to listen with your minds and not with your emotions. We will present the facts clearly and logically, and those facts, when added up unemotionally, will tell you what verdict to bring back from that solemn room where you will decide whether or not three young boys will be deprived of their lives. And that verdict will be Not Guilty.”

And then the trial began in earnest.