In The Plan - 8. Chapter 8

8

Damon Jenkins believed in a strong offense, so he liked to tell juries exactly what the opposing attorneys had to do. The problem was, that in this case and in many others, the defense didn't have do to anything. The lawyers could just sit there on their hands and do nothing. Not even smile. It was entirely up to the state - Jenkins, in this instance - to prove Beyond A Reasonable Doubt that Brad Coghlan was driving the car.

So after Jenkins introduced himself and offered a little background about the accident, he added that proving Beyond a Reasonable Doubt was the most difficult standard to reach in a trial. He stressed that this was absolutely central to the case. Next, he highlighted some of the strengths of his argument:

First, he had two eyewitnesses who'd put Brad Coghlan in the driver's seat of his car.

Second, he had one eyewitness who'd put Doug Hodges in the passenger seat.

Third, he had a blood alcohol report putting Brad Coghlan at at least double the legal limit.

Fourth, he had three of Brad Coghlan's close friends who'd testify how drunk he'd been in the bar that afternoon

Fifth, he had at least six of the other bar patrons that afternoon who'd testify the same thing.

Finally, he had an expert witness - who'd been reconstructing automobile accidents for Nassau County police departments for over thirty years - who'd testify that Brad Coghlan was the driver of the car.

As Ben Carleson said, all Jenkins had to do was let the evidence do its job.

Sitting back down, Jenkins thought his presentation had been fair, evenhanded as always, and decently understated. If this had been a trial in the movies or on TV, a prosecutor might have been more emphatic or dramatic, which was exactly what he liked to avoid. The other things he'd dodged were:

Ever referring to Brad Coghlan as Police Officer Brad Coghlan. Even with bad media coverage, most people instinctively respected the police and depended on their protection. And members of the present jury seemed more like Coghlan than not.

Never referring to Coghlan as Coghlan or Brad. One seemed too impersonal and the other too close.

Not overselling the "Reasonable Doubt." He'd seen juries so confused by attorney instructions that they couldn't figure out what the term meant at all.

Avoiding all emotional triggers. They had no place in his strategy. He refused to say, "Brad Coghlan was not driving his own extremely fast sports car at the time of the horrible accident." Or "Doug Hodges - admittedly - had conflicting statements from the hours immediately after his awful crash until over twelve months of painful therapy." Or "Doug Hodges' deposition is - obviously - far clearer over a year later when doctors, nurses, and prolonged medical treatment finally helped him reconstruct his terribly shattered memory."

All these ideas created images that were legitimate for a jury, but Jenkins believed it was talking down to them. He felt a jury was always intelligent - especially collectively. Otherwise, these people wouldn't have been selected for this particular trial.

Finally, Jenkins was extremely careful not even to intimate that Brad Coghlan or his fellow police officers might be lying or purposely covering anything up. It just wouldn't sell.

The jury's reception seemed very good. Many of the members were nodding or smiling, and they always seemed attentive. It was obviously the beginning of the trial, and though their selection had taken two days, they were still fresh and unconfused. They also didn't seem swayed by Brad Coghlan's showing up in his crisp police uniform, although he'd already been suspended from the force. He looked good, too - blond, young, fit, clean-shaven, with a sharp military haircut, and wearing no wedding ring. That seemed especially noticed by the three women jurors who were Coghlan's age or younger. And despite how fit Coghlan seemed - and Ben Carleson mentioned he'd reportedly lost weight since the accident - he carried a cane. He wasn't using it and didn't seem to know how to actually support an injured leg or ankle. But it had its presence. It said, Look at this poor, injured, young police officer who'd willingly trade his life for yours. It didn't say, This drunk, fat guy did this to himself.

Jenkins's opening statement took less than twenty minutes, and he liked to keep them short. He didn't want to be boring. He also knew that the defense attorney, Stu Lee, tended to run long, so he meant to create a contrast. He wanted to assure the jury, I won't waste your time with unnecessary information. I won't describe every detail of Brad Coghlan's restored, vintage, 1964 Mercedes sports car, nor how the particular, cast-aluminum light pole his car hit was purposely engineered to easily break off its secure concrete base. He'd worked both with and against attorneys who'd used details to confuse, and he wasn't one of them.

Fortunately, he knew Stu Lee wasn't, either. He had his habits, but they didn't lean toward tricks. When Lee focused on details, they were important ones. He occasionally liked to hear himself talk and sometimes seemed overly pleased with his own intelligence. He also got too folksy, seeming to say to the jury, Hey, guys, I'm just one of you. I know we'd all rather be somewhere else.

Lee was Jenkins's age, with comparable experience - several hundred trials - and each seemed to acknowledge the other's ability. Lee wouldn't outdress Jenkins the way Ben Carleson had. Though with Carleson, Jenkins didn't think it was done purposely. Those were the clothes he wore every day. But he'd seen Lee in handmade suits and seen him in store-bought ones. And Jenkins bet that - for this trial - Lee would choose to blend in.

Reviewing his witnesses, Jenkins also felt pleased. Doug Hodges was perfect in every way Ben Carleson had promised. No one could say a word against him, not even his ex-wife.

"We've grown up differently that we expected," she'd admitted. "But he's always been there for me, and I know he always will be."

Hodges' two sons felt the same way.

"Dad's been our rock, and we've talked about that between ourselves. Whenever we get stuck, we think, 'What would Dad do?' and that guides us."

More central to the case, Hodges was in the bar and sober - he'd only sipped one diluted Scotch in over an hour and had tried to talk Coghlan out of driving. He'd listened to six other people think they'd succeeded in doing that and wouldn't have gone out to Coghlan's car if he didn't think he'd personally be driving. Separate from that, he was very logical, and years of working in the tech world had reinforced that. He knew never to drive with anyone who was drunk and was ambushed by Coghlan's competitive, alcohol-amped testosterone.

Jenkins's other strength was Joseph Muraro, also know as Cowboy - the man who'd nearby been killed when Coghlan's car tore south in the wrong lane and nearly smashed into Muraro's head on. For seconds, they were face-to-face, and despite his expected panic, Muraro remembered a "young man with light-colored, longish hair." That in no way described conservative, 50-year-old Doug Hodges.

Among other witnesses Jenkins intended to call, he had Randall Uzoma - whose car Coghlan's nearly side-swiped, moments before it swerved out of control and jumped the curb to crash in the parking lot. As Coghlan's car had passed, Uzoma got a clear look at the passenger, and it was "a man about 50" - again, no way resembling younger Brad Coghlan.

And he had Cole Grubaugh - one of Brad Coghlan's high school friends. "Brad and I first got drunk together when we were maybe 14 or15, and I could always drink him onto the floor. And you can always tell when he's plowed - he gets bug-eyed. His lids pull back, and his eyes look really big." That evening, Grubaugh easily realized that Coghlan was "plowed" and was planning to drive him home when Doug Hodges volunteered.

And he had Bruce and Jocelynn Montelongo, who'd been sitting in the next booth in the bar from 4:30 on that afternoon. They'd watched Brad Coghlan meet and drink with his business partner, Greg Mackel, and Mackel's father-in-law, Nolan Starizny, the bar owner. Starting before 5:00, the three men had been discussing the future of the deli that Coghlan and Mackel owned, and the Montelongos said their table was littered with empty glasses of beer and the "Aftershock" - a straight alcohol - that Coghlan had been drinking. "Yep, I'm really feeling it," he'd joked at one point to his friends.

Jenkins's list went on. He easily had enough ordinary witnesses to call for five days. Finally, he also had his own expert, who almost didn't seem necessary. Still, as Ben Carleson pointed out, he needed someone to counter Lee's expert. To do that, Jenkins had chosen a man who was known in and trusted throughout the police community for almost his entire career. Originally trained as an automotive and aviation engineer, he'd moved into crash research because "It fascinated me. I know it seems morbid," he'd told Jenkins, "but if it saves lives, I'll dedicate mine to it." The expert was also as no-nonsense and rational as Hodges and presented facts in a way that put them beyond question.

Not exactly open-and shut, but Jenkins couldn't imagine how the case would ever need a civil trial. As Carleson said, "No reasonable insurance company would take that risk." Jenkins wouldn't make any extra money from all his hard and overtime work, but he hoped Ben Carleson would at least take him and his wife out to a nice dinner.