The following is an excerpt from Part Two:
The first day of our trial
is devoted primarily to jury selection. The next day the actual trial
begins. That is when the prosecutor’s star witness, who has already
undergone five or six coaching sessions, introduces conflicting
information to the jury. He is accompanied by his foster dad, the
“mentor” from the high school. A newly-manufactured count of first
degree molestation is introduced, yet it is inconsistent with the story
he presented to the Grand Jury many months earlier.
All of a sudden he is “remembering more.” It is now a year later
than when he “remembered” it the first time. The prosecutor admits he is
fully aware that the testimony would be introduced. He corroborates
that he instructed Cole to do so. They cannot keep track of which lie
fits where. The result is a mistrial. (Not a single word about
misconduct on the part of the prosecution makes the news, not one
mention of it.)
During the preliminary stage-setting statements, Cole was careful to
paint a scene of a pleasant home life. There is no dissatisfaction
worth mentioning. Beaver Cleaver couldn’t portray more wholesomeness. It
is not anywhere near the truth, as is evidenced when the mistrial is
over and the pleas copped.
Cole is then given the opportunity to offer a statement to the
court. The jury has been excused and we go through the rigmarole of
signing agreements. The terms of our release and probation are clearly
gone over (terms which we later discover change by the minute once
probation begins). The final mockery on the agenda is to be subjected to
Cole’s outlandish presentation, made from the witness stand. There is
not much point to it except, perhaps, to admonish us publicly. The whole
thing is a sorry joke.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
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