A Tale of Two Carnies

26 - The Trial (Part 2)

I was feeling confident that Cozbi's attorney had successfully planted doubt in the minds of the jury over her ability to use the heavy tent stake as a murder weapon. Things were looking up.

For his next witness, District Attorney Martin Beagle called a lady in her thirties named Claudia Stillwell. She identified herself as a forensic lab technician employed by the Pennsylvania State Police specializing in fingerprint analysis. Ms. Stillwell testified how the only print found on the head of the tent stake positively belonged to Cozbi, her left thumb print.

That information I already knew. Cozbi was right-handed. If she allegedly stabbed Marlin Cleveland it would mean she held the shaft of the stake in her right hand and folded her left thumb around the top of the stake head. I imagined trying to do that. It would be awkward for a right-handed person and the stabbing momentum would be weaker than if she used her good hand.

I hoped Alvin would bring that out during cross-examination.

Ms. Stillwell wasn't on the stand for long and Alvin must not have found anything in her testimony to dispute. He had no follow-up questions.

The jury looked bored. I caught one of the men in the back row yawning.

Before the DA could call his next witness, the judge decided it was time to take a fifteen-minute bathroom break. The bailiff led the jury from the courtroom and then excused the rest of us.

I stood, happy to finally have a chance to talk to Cozbi without a glass partition separating us. Leaning over the rail, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders in a long-awaited embrace. It frightened me how thin and bony she had become.

The bailiff rushed over and scolded me, saying we weren't allowed to touch. Yeah, like I could really pass a weapon to her.

I let go of Cozbi and asked how she was doing.

"I'm scared, Jacey," she said in a squeaky, little girl voice.

I wanted to encourage her. "It's all going in your favor. Alvin has the jury thinking you're not strong enough to wield that stake as a weapon. They're unimpressed about your fingerprint."

Turning to Alvin, I asked, "What's next?"

He studied the legal pad, and said without looking up at me, "The witnesses."

Cozbi sucked in a sharp intake of breath. Something about the witnesses had her rattled.

"Alvin, now that I can't do anything about it, can you finally tell me who they are?"

Still not meeting my gaze, he said, "You'll find out soon enough. Leave me alone. I need to think."

I turned to Cozbi. "Alvin has your back. No matter what story those witnesses tell, he'll counter them."

Cozbi broke eye contact and looked at the floor. She chewed her lower lip. "Jacey, what scares me most is what you'll think of me after hearing what they have to say."

"You told me the day we found Marlin that you threatened to kill him. I already know that. That's what they're going to say, right?"

Cozbi didn't answer.

"How much worse can it be?"

She said nothing.

A few minutes later, the bailiff returned the jurors to their box and the trial resumed.

The DA called to the stand a man named Garth Renfro. From the rear of the courtroom, a tall man stood. He was clean shaven with a buzzcut and strode down the aisle, erect, confident, and with a military bearing. After being sworn in, he made eye contact with each of the jurors. The man oozed charisma. I felt a pang of distress.