A Matter of Life and Death

to exclude an unlimited number of jurors for cause. Cause could be shown if a juror had formed an opinion about Joe’s guilt or innocence, if the juror was opposed to the death penalty or would always opt for death if a person was convicted of murder, if a juror had a prejudice against an African American defendant, or for any other reason that made it obvious that the juror could not be fair.
In addition to an unlimited number of challenges for cause, each side in an Oregon death penalty trial was allowed fifteen peremptory challenges. These challenges could be made for any reason and were used when an attorney could not show cause but did not want a juror sitting on his client’s case. A defense attorney who had a gut feeling about a potential juror might use a peremptory challenge to exclude the juror even if she claimed that she could be fair to both sides. Similarly, a prosecutor might use a peremptory challenge to exclude an attorney who practiced criminal defense, who said he could be unbiased if selected as a juror.
Late Friday afternoon, after Robin and Vanessa used the last of their peremptory challenges and made no further challenges for cause, Judge Wright seated a panel of twelve jurors and six alternates. A death penalty trial followed by a sentencing hearing could go on for some time. In a long trial, it was not unusual for one or more jurors to become ill or to be excused for a valid reason. The alternates would hear the evidence the selected jurors would hear, but they would not take part in the deliberations unless a seated juror was excused.
Judge Wright admonished the jurors to avoid internet, television, radio, or newspaper accounts of Joe’s case and told them that they could not talk about the case with anyone, including their families. Then he adjourned court until Monday morning.
Robin was exhausted when she returned to her office a little before five. As soon as she walked into the waiting room, her receptionist told Robin that Jeff wanted to see her.
“How did jury selection go?” Jeff asked when Robin had slumped onto a chair across from him.
“Okay,” replied Robin. “I’ve got three jurors I’m pretty sure won’t be able to sentence someone to death, so I’m feeling good about going to the sentencing phase if Joe is convicted, but I don’t have a real feel for how we’ll do in the trial.”
“You look like you’re wiped out.”
“I am, but I have to work on my opening statement. Amanda’s going to meet me Sunday afternoon to critique it.”
“You’re in no condition to create a great opening statement. You’ll fall asleep unless you get some chow. Let me take you to dinner, and I’ll tell you what I found out about Kevin Bash.”
“Tell me now.”
“Only if you’ll promise to get some nourishment. A dead girlfriend is no fun.”
“I promise.”
“Okay. Remember what Erika Stassen did for a living before she moved back to Portland?”
“She investigated tax fraud for the IRS.”
“Right. So, I asked Mark to ask her if she could help us out. She got back to me while you were in court. Kevin Bash is listed as the president of Irongate Inc. It’s a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands. Irongate owns several properties in Oregon. One is a farm in Washington County.”
Robin perked up. “We have to go out there. We can take pictures and show them to Joe to see if he can ID it as the place where the fight was held.”
Jeff nodded. “I’ll do that over the weekend. Right now, I’m going to feed you. Then you’re going to get a good night’s sleep.”
Robin was going to argue with Jeff, but she was too tired. Jeff saw the fight go out of the woman he loved, so he told her the information he had saved for last.
“There’s one more thing Erika discovered. Anthony Carasco is a member of Irongate’s board of directors.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Jeff spent Saturday in the field interviewing witnesses. Robin spent Saturday morning in her office with Loretta, reviewing the set of jury instructions her associate had prepared. Robin could see that there was something worrying Loretta, but she decided Loretta would tell her what was bothering her if she wanted to. The moment came when they were on the last instruction.
“Can I ask you something?” Loretta said.
“Sure.”
“How do you do it, take on a client when he could die?”
Robin had asked herself that same question the first time she agreed to take a capital case.
“Someone has to,” she answered.
“But you don’t. You can always pass.”
“True, but that would be cowardly. There are innocent people who’ve ended up on death row because they had incompetent representation. I take being a lawyer very seriously, and I have a duty to make sure the system works. The case where the system has to work as perfectly as it can is a case where a client can die.”
“I don’t know if I could stand the pressure, knowing that a person’s life depended on me being perfect,” Loretta said.
“You will never be perfect, Loretta. All you can do is try as hard as you can to do everything you can think of. But you will always screw up somewhere along the line. That’s why you have a cocounsel; someone who, hopefully, will tell you when you’re going astray. And even then, with the best representation and the greatest will, you will fuck up, because humans aren’t perfect. So, you just try as hard as you can and hope for the best.”
“Have you ever seen an execution?” Loretta asked.
“No. And I hope I never will. And if it’s a client of mine, I would pray that he was really guilty and that I did everything I could for him. And with that, I am ordering you to go home so I can start working on my opening statement.”
On Sunday morning, Jeff programmed in the address Erika Stassen