What a difference a year makes. Last year at about this time I tried a murder case and extolled the merits of wearing gold watches throughout. I was exceeding confident going into that trial.
This week I had another murder trial in another local county, and I felt only dread going into it. I did not want to try this case but was given no alternative. No plea offer was forthcoming, and it makes no sense to plead guilty to murder if the death penalty is not sought by the prosecution. I had to take my lumps. Ordinarily, about a week before trial, after a bit of research and immersion in the case, I start to have an unnatural and unearned confidence in my ability to obtain a favorable result. I pump myself up. I didn’t have that gear to shift into for this trial. I was left with the facts, and those didn’t help me.
And I had another problem, well not really a problem, just a reality. You see, I am a city mouse. Even though I have lived in the Southern United States for forty years, I am originally from the Northeast. I can think and talk fast. I can now drop a “y’all” every now and then and not seem like a tourist. My speech has slowed considerably in normal conversation as you might expect in the South. You wouldn’t know where in the States I was from, but you would still guess an urban area.
The judge assigned to this case is a country mouse. He had grown up, married, taught school, become a lawyer and then a judge, all less than twenty miles from where he was born in a town of just a couple of thousand people. He was of English/Scottish Protestant colonial stock. He neither drinks nor curses. He is affable and polite. And at nearly 85, he was still the smartest lawyer in the room. My fast-talking-Catholic-rough-around-the-edges-urban-trial-lawyer schtick stood no chance.
His rulings were correct and fair. It was a pleasure to try the case in his courtroom. Well, pleasure may be a bit too far. I came out on the losing end. But I knew that I would going in. I had “bad facts”. I also had a difficult client.
Not a small proportion of my clients are seriously mentally ill. They are not so ill that it affords them any relief in the criminal justice system. “Insanity” in a criminal context is not helpful to the defense. My client knew right from wrong. He could help me in his defense. I was his third lawyer. I take appointed cases, and I was appointed because it is generally known that I can handle the crazy. My degree says that I am a juris doctor, but I know enough to spot a psychopath when I encounter one: the alternate reality where there should be no consequences for one’s actions, the belief that one is the most intelligent person in any conversation. I haven’t had too many like him. His previous attorney told me that she thought he was the most evil person that she had ever represented. It may not be as much evil as the absence of good. If you can’t care that what you do may affect others, you can’t adjust your behavior. You will spend your life hurting people.
His previous criminal history was replete with violent crime, primarily against women, as was this one. He will likely spend the rest of his life in prison. My daily parade of gold dress watches was not an effective charm against this inevitability. My fountain pens filled with brown ink were no defense. Style could not overcome substance.
After a long day in court, I would find myself eating a sandwich or a microwaveable meal as my brain slowly turned to mush. Trial requires sustained concentration and, as a committed daydreamer, it wears me out. I had very little time to look at watch content. However, I did manage to buy another vintage watch that I don’t need and four vintage fountain pens. (I don’t have a problem; it is merely a coping mechanism.) The watch arrived today.
Tugaris was a brand of Tiara, S.A. that was registered in 1946. This looks to date from early in their history because it is a typical military style watch from the era. Chris inspired me to start collecting these. I already have too many. But I was scrolling and saw an auction that closed in 30 seconds. I thought, “that watch is too cheap” and bid less than $15.00 U.S. And it arrived on the last day of trial and appears to be keeping time. I cleaned it up and took off the cheap expandable band. I took a couple of passes at it with Polywatch. How many military style vintage watches does one need? The Escapement Room team is testing that question.
Tugaris later seemed to emphasize the emerging markets of Southeast Asia, ultimately becoming a Hong Kong Company at some point.
(Sherwin had a Tugaris, perhaps not with the bathing beauties.)
The Escapement Room 
If I understood correctly: your client is a violent sociopath that killed a woman. Who clearly was guilty and remorseless. How on earth do you defend in good conscience? How on earth do you hope to win?. Would a win really be celebrated when it results in more violence and murder? I’ve a million questions. No need to answer. Different worlds we occupy!
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I get these sorts of question all of the time. How could you defend someone like that? I am defending our system of law where everyone is presumed innocent and where the state must prove their guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. The system only works if all sides are doing their jobs. The conviction is made more reliable and less subject to collateral attack because an attorney with some skill and experience was trying to prevent it. The whole system’s reputation is enhanced when a good prosecutor puts on a good case against a good defense attorney before a good judge. Injustices are more likely when one of the three sides of that triangle is not doing their job. In the United States every criminal defendant is entitled to a defense, even if he cannot afford one, and that defense is presumed to be vigorous and thorough.
Also, it may help to understand what a “win” looks like sometimes to the defense. It does not always require the guilty to face no consequences. In this case my client was charged with both murder and the highest level of burglary. A conviction of either would have resulted in a life sentence. There was evidence that undercut a murder conviction. There was equally strong evidence that a surgical procedure many months after the initial burglary caused the death. I argued strenuously that this was not a murder. My arguments against the burglary were, by necessity, more nuanced. Frankly, a “win” sometimes is keeping a jury out for a long time. I was congratulated many years ago for keeping a jury out for six hours in a Federal police corruption trial. The other defendants had been convicted in under an hour. The jury in this case took about half of an hour to make a decision. That is normally the time it takes to use the restroom, smoke a cigarette, and drink a Diet Coke.
A “win” for me would have been just to move the needle a little bit. It would not have affected the result.
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Both re-assuring and fascinating, thank you
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I’ve never encountered a true psychopath. I once had a chat with someone who I later found out was a contract killer. He was jovial and entertaining. (There is more to the story that I’m not able to talk about.)
Just a reminder not to talk to random strangers in the vicinity of federal courthouse.
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