Category Archives: psa

Sometimes, justice requires a bit of luck

JamesWalder Joseph Frey has spent a lot of time in jail. Some of it for crimes he committed and a lot of it for one crime he always said he didn’t. In 1991, he was fingered as the suspect in a brutal break-in and rape of a student at knifepoint. Just this week, a judge in Wisconsin reversed his conviction. But, in 1994:

He was convicted on Feb. 2, 1994, by a Winnebago County jury despite his claims of innocence, the victim’s dubious identification of him as the attacker, the lack of a DNA match and destruction by an Oshkosh Police detective of important evidence before the trial.

That old evidence included a jailhouse informant, the victim’s identification of Frey in a “live in-person lineup,” prior sexual assault charges and DNA results from the victim’s bedsheet that excluded Frey as the source.

The holy grail of wrongful convictions: 1) A misidentification; 2) DNA that excludes the defendant; 3) Evidence getting mysteriously destroyed by a police department; 4) Tunnel vision; 5) A jailhouse informant.

The “identification” was done by police in a “simultaneous” manner – a practice now frowned upon because it results in people picking the person who “looks most like” rather than “who is” the suspect. They also placed the same person in more than one lineup, which would signal to anyone with a functioning brain cell that the person who repeatedly showed up was one that police believed did the crime.

And there were other problems. The Innocence Project said the victim identified at least two other men before saying that Frey “looked similar” to her attacker.

There was DNA tested before trial and that DNA (stains from the bedsheet) excluded Frey, but the prosecutor argued – and the jury believed – that those stains could just be leftover from consensual sexual activity the victim had. The news report doesn’t reveal whether that was followed up with the victim at trial or compared to the DNA of any lover she might have had to confirm that.

But the real kickers here are the actions of the police department and the tunnel vision they tend to develop when they have a suspect in their sights. Confirmation bias kicks in and the police start viewing all the evidence through the lens of confirming their suspicion, rather than looking at it neutrally and seeing where it goes. Oh, and it would’ve been nice if, you know, they hadn’t destroyed evidence before the trial:

After those results were received — and before trial — all of the physical evidence in the case reportedly was destroyed, according to trial testimony of then-Oshkosh Detective Phil Charley, who acknowledged disposing of the items but “could not recall anyone ordering him to destroy the evidence,” the Innocence Project said.

Maybe there was a shortage of space. In Phil Charley’s brain. But wait, there’s more:

“In addition to the improper destruction of evidence,” the motion for DNA testing said, “all of the police documents, including police reports, inventory reports, submission and transmittal forms, testing requests and results and chains of custody, were destroyed by the (Oshkosh Police Department).”  “As a result, it is unclear what evidence was originally collected, identified for testing, or remained after destruction.”

I can’t think of one single legitimate reason to destroy these items, especially at or near the time of trial. Maybe 20 years down the road, after legal challenges have been disposed of, maybe. But police departments have strict policies about this. Because you never know, when one day 20 years down the road, DNA testing implicates someone else. What’s that you say? Is that what happened here?

Frey’s chance at exoneration came after a Winnebago County court clerk discovered a scrap of bedsheet left over from the “improper” destruction of the physical evidence by a now-retired Oshkosh Police detective before Frey’s 1994 trial, according to the Innocence Project’s October motion seeking DNA testing.

A scrap. Of a bedsheet. In a clerk’s office. That’s what needed to happen to save Frey. Not all the dubious evidence and the shenanigans that I outlined above. All of that is what got him convicted. It took a random bedsheet scrap that somehow escaped the purge of Detective Fife Charley.

And it wasn’t just that the bedsheet had DNA that excluded Frey. They already knew that. It was only when the DNA evidence matched that of another convicted rapist, who prior to his death in 2008, may have tried to confess to this crime, that the prosecutor was willing to concede that, okay, maybe, perhaps, if you squint really hard, they had the wrong guy.

Finality is such a powerful thing that even the most level headed and logical people get so entrenched in their positions. “It has been decided”, they say, “so mere doubt cannot and will not be permitted to give us doubts about the veracity of our decisions. We must be slapped repeatedly in the face to awaken us from our stupor”.

It was sheer dumb luck that brought Joseph Frey to the precipice of exoneration and freedom. How many are sitting in jail right now, convicted on this evidence, without that scrap of a bedsheet? How many are sitting in jail right now, because prosecutors are convinced, despite evidence to the contrary, that they got the right guy all those years ago? How many are sitting in jail right now, because prosecutors refuse to test DNA evidence, because it might prove they got the wrong guy? Hubris is a powerful thing and almost never results in any good.

How many are sitting in jail right now without any DNA out there to support their innocence, convicted based on tainted, faulty identifications, gung-ho cops and juries that can’t convict fast enough because criminals. Isn’t that most frightening thing of all? That there are innocent people in jail right now without any way for the world to know that they exist. Without any way of proving that they didn’t do it. Because they didn’t get lucky. Should the justice system require luck? Or should it require proof?

So the next time you read a story about an obviously guilty guy, think for a second. The next time you’re on a jury, think long and hard. Are you convinced? Is there any doubt? Or are you going to say good enough and figure maybe he’ll get lucky down the road?

Frey was represented in his motion for a new trial by a dear personal friend of mine, a law professor at the University of Wisconsin Law School, Tricia Bushnell. I know the volume of hard work that she and her students did in this case and words cannot ever justify the satisfaction that she must be feeling, so I can only say congratulations and that maybe now you should take a nap, Tricia.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A second chance for juveniles

Think about when you were 14, 15 or even 18 years old. You may have been the jock, the smartypants, the nerd, the weirdo, the hot chick, the best friend or home schooled. Think about the worst thing you did those years.

Now imagine that the worst thing you did – if it was legal – was deemed inappropriate by society. Inappropriate to the tune of 20 years in jail or 30 years or 40 or 60. Or just remember that time you bullied someone or you stole a lipstick or you made fun of a teacher or you took your dad’s car and went for a joyride or you made up stories about that girl because she wouldn’t make out with you.

Now, thinking about yourself, do you cringe? Have you spent time over the years wondering who that kid was and being glad that you’re not that anymore? Have you spent any time thinking “boy, I was a douche back then, but I’ve grown and changed?”

We all have. The only difference is that some of us are stuck in jail for extremely long sentences for things we did when we were barely out of middle school. CT mandates that all children above the age of fourteen, charged with serious felonies, are automatically treated as adults and exposed to adult sentences, ranging from maximums of 20 years to 60 years. And there are about 170 people who are currently serving such sentences for things they did between 14-17.

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“A deliberate pattern of improper conduct”

The long lament has been the unaccountability of prosecutors in the criminal justice system: they are given broad powers and responsibilities and then shielded at every turn from being held accountable for the myriad, tiny abuses that are committed on a fairly regular basis. Just last week we were all mourning the ineffectual Brady v. Maryland. We all screamed when Connick was announced, holding that prosecutors weren’t financially liable for misconduct impropriety. We all rolled our eyes when they changed misconduct to impropriety. We all roll our eyes when courts point out impropriety but refuse to name the prosecutors who committed that misconduct. But what isn’t at dispute is that prosecutors have a special role to play in the criminal justice system; their responsibilities are elevated and the standards they should be held to are higher.

A great deal is at stake in a criminal trial. The interests involved go beyond the private interests at  stake in the ordinary civil case.They involve significant public interests. . . . [T]he criminal jury trial has a role in protecting not only the liberty of the accused, but also the entire citizenry from overzealous or overreaching state authority.

Duncan v. Louisiana, 391 U.S. 145.

When presenting closing arguments, as in all facets of a criminal trial, the prosecutor, as a representative of the state, has a duty of fairness that exceeds that of other advocates. [A] prosecutor is not an ordinary advocate. His [or her] duty is to see that justice is done and  to refrain from improper methods calculated to produce prejudice and wrongful decisions by the jury.

State v.Moore, 69 Conn. App.  117, 130.

So believe me when I say that what the Connecticut Appellate Court did yesterday was truly extraordinary. It has happened maybe once or twice in the last decade or perhaps even two.

The opinion in State v. Santiago [PDF] starts thusly:

The defendant, Victor Santiago,appeals  from his conviction of felony murder in violation of  General Statutes § 53a-54c and murder in violation of General Statutes § 53a-54a, claiming that he was deprived of his due process right to a fair trial due to improper comments made by the prosecutor, Terence D. Mariani, Jr., during his closing and rebuttal arguments to the jury.

He also asks this court to invoke its  inherent supervisory authority over the administration  of justice to reverse his conviction in light of Mariani’s improper comments made during his closing argument to the jury and his deliberate pattern of making such comments in numerous other cases.

Because we conclude that Mariani has engaged in a deliberate pattern of improper conduct in this case and others, and he remains undeterred by pronouncements by this court and our Supreme Court that his conduct was improper, we believe that nothing short of reversal will have the effect of deterring him.

We thus reverse the defendant’s  judgment of conviction and remand the case for a  new trial.

Unheard of. Just simply unheard of. Not only does the opinion name the prosecutor, but also calls his conduct a “deliberate pattern”.

Judge Sheldon, who wrote the opinion, is absolutely correct: the only just penalty for repeated Constitutional violations and wanton disregard for trial and appellate court orders and cautions and reprimands is to reverse the conviction. What else can be done to drive home the message that prosecutors are not free to abuse the law and that the rules apply to them, too. If they are to be given a license to disregard Due Process with ease, then how can one with a straight face then hold defendants and defense attorneys to much higher standards?

Mariani did everything in this case he isn’t supposed to: he played on the jurors’ sympathies for the victim and witness, he demonized the defendant and his family and equated the prosecutor’s job with that of the jury’s. Each by itself would be a reversible Due Process violation. The court then lists 8 other cases in which Mariani’s conduct was censured by the Appellate or Supreme Court and he was admonished not to do so again. And yet he persisted.

It’s not that he’s not smart or that he doesn’t understand it: the only explanation can be that he just doesn’t care. To repeatedly, continually disregard instructions from judges and appellate courts about the impropriety of one’s actions can only signal that the subject thinks himself or herself to be above the law. This clearly got to the Court, which reasoned:

Mariani made several improper comments in this case, a felony murder case, and, in so doing, jeopardized the constitutionality of the trial proceedings. More troublesome, however, is his repeated and deliberate use of improper argument throughout other cases. Despite the fact that this court and our Supreme Court have repeatedly determined that Mariani has exceeded the  bounds of proper conduct, he continues to do so. We thus conclude, as our Supreme Court did in Payne, that “nothing short of reversal will deter similar misconduct in the future.” Id., 466.

Stunning, unprecedented and well deserved. The only question remains is whether the Supreme Court will reverse, because you know, criminals.

Through the looking glass

“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?’

`That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’ said the Cat.

`I don’t much care where–’ said Alice.

`Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,’ said the Cat.

`–so long as I get somewhere,’ Alice added as an explanation.

`Oh, you’re sure to do that,’ said the Cat, `if you only walk long enough.”

It’s curious how quick we are to draw lines and take sides. People are either Alpha or Beta; victims or perpetrators; weak or bullies. This compartmentalization does more harm than good, because we are a little bit of everything, depending on the demand of the circumstances.

But stances we take, so perhaps it was a bit jarring for many this week when it came to light that the DOJ had subpoenaed two months worth of phone records of the Associated Press in an effort to determine the source of a leak. These subpoenas, obtained without judicial oversight [an effort thankfully rejected here in Connecticut], has caused a maelstrom of criticism for the Obama administration.

But, as Glenn Greenwald writes convincingly, this isn’t exactly Earth-shattering news to anyone who’d been paying attention; the problem is, of course, that very few people had. Because we all have staked out positions: we are either Democrats or Liberals or Republicans or Victims or Tough on Crime or Criminals or Those People. We are no longer people with opinions but rather opinions given corporeal form.

Yet there are more people troubled today than there were yesterday. This can only be a good thing. Would it trouble you more to know that what the DOJ did is likely legal? Are you comfortable with the government having that much unregulated authority over you?

Perhaps now, your outrage can be focused on other worthy things. Like the fact that the same DOJ also purports to have unfettered, warrantless access to your e-mails. Or that cops are making up the rules on phone surveillance of regular citizens like you and me.

You’re not a criminal yet, but are you starting to feel like one? Has your perspective changed?

And what sort of perspective do you need to want to rush to executions? Florida, which I wrote about last week, is poised to pass legislation speeding up executions. You have the victim’s perspective, now here’s the exoneree’s:

“If the bill would have been in effect at the time of me being sentenced, I wouldn’t be here talking to you today,” said Penalver, who five months ago was acquitted on charges related to a triple murder. New evidence was uncovered years after he exhausted his original appeals, winning Penalver his freedom after 18 years behind bars.

“There’s no ifs, ands or buts about it. You’re going to put innocent men to death,” warned Lindsey, who was exonerated after three years on death row.

You complain about endless appeals. Maybe you’ve heard it on TV, maybe your neighbor said it, maybe you are in the system and you actually believe it. Have you ever stopped to think about why there are appeals? Do you think that factual guilt is all that matters? If that’s the case, then why are you up in arms about the DOJ?

I mean, if the AP is guilty, well then, who cares how the evidence was obtained. I mean, if the AP hasn’t done anything, then they should have nothing to hide, right? Can I look through your e-mails now? I’m not even from the police.

We appeal because the law is on trial just as much as the facts are. The facts, however, are specific to one case. The law applies to us all. Do you want some criminal’s case deciding your rights?

Maybe, we thought, it would change after Aaron Swartz. Maybe we were wrong. Will it happen now, after AP-gate? Will there be just the slightest shift? Will you realize that when they come for your pet project, it’s already too late? Quoth Greenwald:

Leave to the side how morally grotesque it is to oppose rights assaults only when they affect you. The pragmatic point is that it is vital to oppose such assaults in the first instance no matter who is targeted because such assaults, when unopposed, become institutionalized. Once that happens, they are impossible to stop when – as inevitably occurs – they expand beyond the group originally targeted. We should have been seeing this type of media outrage over the last four years as the Obama administration targeted non-media groups with these kinds of abuses (to say nothing of the conduct of the Bush administration before that). It shouldn’t take an attack on media outlets for them to start caring this much.

Someone once said “we see world not as it is, but as we are”. If we see the world as the DOJ and Florida legislators see it, as the anonymous prosecutors who submit these “reactions” see it, what does it say about us?

When the law is mistreated and disrespected and ignored, we are all victims. The question that remains is: what will it take to get you to see it that way?

Depends on what you mean by justice: 50 years of Brady

It’s a brilliant concept, if you think about it: an adversarial system in which one side – the one trying to steal the liberty of the other – has to show all its cards up front. “Here”, they have to say “this is what we have against you and, oh, by the way, in the interests of justice, here’s what we have that might show that you didn’t do it.”

It’s the ultimate salvo in an open and fair system; where the goal is rigorous examination of the allegations, no tricks and traps by the government and an outcome that can then be reliably relied upon.

Justice. Such a grand notion; an admirable ideal. It is justice that prompted Brady v. Maryland – an unworkable, but yet noble attempt at drawing lines and taking stances:

The principle of Mooney v. Holohan is not punishment of society for misdeeds of a prosecutor but avoidance of an unfair trial to the accused. Society wins not only when the guilty are convicted but when criminal trials are fair; our system of the administration of justice suffers when any accused is treated unfairly. An inscription on the walls of the Department of Justice states the proposition candidly for the federal domain: “The United States wins its point whenever justice is done its citizens in the courts.” A prosecution that withholds evidence on demand of an accused which, if made available, would tend to exculpate him or reduce the penalty helps shape a trial that bears heavily on the defendant. That casts the prosecutor in the role of an architect of a proceeding that does not comport with standards of justice, even though, as in the present case, his action is not “the result of guile,” to use the words of the Court of Appeals. 226 Md., at 427, 174 A. 2d, at 169.

Perhaps it was a bit optimistic, but they can hardly be blamed for wanting the system to be above board; honest.

But it all got lost somewhere down the road. Why? Who knows. Politics, legislators baying for blood, a public with passions aroused – “tough on crime”, an overburdened system and overworked lawyers with a taste for resolution and no stomach for a fight? But it happened. And the calling was no longer “justice”, it was “convictions”.

Justice is never personal; winning always is. And when the nature of the game that one side is playing changes so dramatically that it becomes personal, the stakes are raised. Raised stakes lead to seeking the advantage and then Brady – and its very ideals – get turned on its head. Now the fox is the gatekeeper, not just the guardian: how do you know if something is exculpatory if they don’t turn it over? And the arbiter of what is “exculpatory” is that very prosecutor whose job it is to administer justice. Statements that cast doubt on the complainant’s version? Not believed by the prosecutor, so not exculpatory. You can imagine the machinations.

And when the goal becomes winning and convictions rather than justice, you get stories like this.

[Prosecutor Keller] Blackburn explained that House Bill 86 not only made a distinction between cocaine and crack cocaine and the weights of the drugs, but it also significantly changed the prison sentences associated with lower level felony crimes. Prior to the changes, fifth-degree and fourth-degree felonies carried the real possibility of prison time. Now, probation or jail time is more likely for first-time offenders. Third-degree felony crimes carried a maximum of five years in prison but now only three can be ordered.

“When you change the numbers, then negotiations get more difficult. If someone is only risking six additional months by not taking a deal, they’ll go to trial. It harms negotiations and pass costs to local communities,” Blackburn said. According to Blackburn, there are around 600 cases that come across his desk in a year. He said it’s not possible for the prosecution and defense to try that many cases, nor is it possible for the courts to handle such a load and taxpayers cannot afford that many cases. He said there is also additional stress placed on the probation department.

Did you get all that? Prosecutor Keller Blackburn is miffed that the legislature reduced penalties for low-level crimes, not because it offends justice, but because it makes his job harder. Prosecutor Keller Blackburn is more concerned with warehousing his fellow citizens, guilt or innocence be damned, because this makes it more difficult for him to put the squeeze on defendants.

Tough penalties were the worst thing this country did in the name of justice. It did exactly the opposite: it forced the hands of unwilling prosecutors and provided great ammunition for the sadistic ones. The greater the exposure in jail, the greater the chance of putting someone away for a disproportionate amount of time.

People ask why I do what I do. This is one reason. Not because I condone crime; not because I like it. But “justice” is hard to come by in the American system. Because of prosecutors like Keller Blackburn. Because there is no oversight of prosecutors. They can get away with almost anything because law and order and criminals and other buzzwords. And if ever found to have violated the Constitution, there is no punishment. Just a stern wag of the finger and be set free to do the same again and again, leaving how many untold victims in their wake while they pursue their quest of “convictions”.

Brady was a valiant effort. Too bad justice doesn’t mean what it used to.

[I swear to God if one of you says "hey, not all prosecutors are like that", I will tie a peacock to your butt and sprinkle birdseed on your head. Of course they aren't.]

H/T: SL&P.

 

The madness of death

It is never enough to want to kill someone; the desire to murder is always accompanied by the desire to do so quickly and without question. One could liken it to a madness that makes one talk quickly, ranting and foaming at the mouth. While it was ultimately thought that King George suffered from Acute Intermittent Porphyria, it remains to be seen what afflicts the modern day proponents of the death penalty.

How else does one explain the Florida legislature’s passage of a new bill “streamlining” (such a beautiful euphemism: “streamlining”; what do the British call it? “Redundancies”. Such a way with words) the death penalty process. What they really mean is jetlining it. Making it fast. Quicker than quick. No room or time for questions or doubt. Under the bill – “The Timely Justice Act” – deadlines for filing appeals are getting shorter and the time between an affirmance by the Florida Supreme Court and the issuance of an execution warrant has been reduced. Because it isn’t like there have been 24 people exonerated in Florida who were on death row. Because doing it fast is the same as doing it right.

“This is not about a question of innocence, this is about making sure that timely justice is realized,” [Republican Senator Rob] Bradley said.

Bradenton Herald. [More here, here, here and here.] It is not a question of innocence, for innocence is irrelevant. The only dynamic in this game is finality. Once it is done, it must never be spoken of again. For if we speak of it, we must acknowledge that the system doesn’t work. And if the system doesn’t work, maybe we can’t fix it. And if we can’t fix it, maybe we can only get rid of it. But it’s not about innocence. It’s about speed. It’s about victims. It’s not like DNA could tell you if he’s really guilty or not. And even if it did, would you care?

Willie Manning thought you would, but prosecutors in Mississippi didn’t. Manning, who sits on death row, inches away from execution, doesn’t have much direct evidence linking him to the murders.

There is no physical evidence linking Manning to the 1992 murders of two Mississippi State University students. The “jailhouse informant” who once told trial jurors that Manning “confessed” to the crime, has since recanted, telling defense lawyers he thought he would receive “consideration” from prosecutors for incriminating Manning. And Mississippi officials now are refusing to test DNA and fingerprints found at the crime scene — evidence which did not directly incriminate Manning before, has never been tested using modern procedures, and which might definitely resolve the case one way or the other.

But there’s more. The FBI has sent letters in the past days to Manning’s lawyers, disavowing their own “forensic science” that was used to convict Manning. And so today, after just last week denying Manning’s request for a stay 5-4, the Mississippi Supreme Court reversed course and agreed to stay his execution 8-1. Eight-to-One. There was still one. The Madness of Justice Randolph:

The letter also states that the Department of Justice is “assist[ing] [the Innocence Project and the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers] in their evaluations.” “The Innocence Project supports a moratorium on capital punishment.” The “NACDL has been an outspoken critic of the death penalty system. Of critical concern is the language contained in the first FBI report stating that, “[g]iven the abbreviated time frame for review, the FBI requests the Innocence Project (IP) to advise as to whether or not they agree with the FBI’s conclusions as soon as possible.” Although the connectivity and expediency by which this review was accomplished is mind boggling, I should not be surprised, given that the families of the victims of the clandestine “Fast and Furious” gun running operation can’t get the Department of Justice to identify the decision makers (whose actions resulted in the death of a border agent and many others) after years of inquiry, and that this is the same Department of Justice that grants and enforces Miranda warnings to foreign enemy combatants.” [emphasis in original]

The madness is upon him. Manning must be executed because fast and furious Obama and the FBI have juxtaposed the commission of the offenses of felonies in the circumvention of the current regime and the syncopation of the circumstances of the revolution of the conspiracy of the freedom of guns and religion in this Communist extravaganza.

There’s another form of madness at play here – and that is blame. If there is a fault with the system, that fault lies with the defense; if there is a problem, the problem is too many rights. It seems that the Constitution has become a roadblock on the fastrack to summary justice and execution.

The Florida “Let’s Speed up the Murder Yeehaw!” Bill has the following provision:

Notwithstanding another provision of law, an attorney employed by the state or appointed pursuant to s. 27.711 may not represent a person charged with a capital offense at trial or on direct appeal or a person sentenced to death in a post conviction proceeding if, in two separate instances, a court, in a capital post conviction proceeding, determined that such attorney provided constitutionally deficient representation and relief was granted as a result. This prohibition on representation shall be for a period of 5 years, which commences at the time relief is granted after the highest court having jurisdiction to review the deficient representation determination has issued its final order affirming the second such determination.

and this one:

(2) In a capital postconviction proceeding in which it has been determined that an attorney of record provided constitutionally deficient representation and relief has been granted as a result of such determination, after the highest court having jurisdiction to review such determination has issued its final order affirming the determination, the court making such determination shall furnish a copy of the findings to The Florida Bar for appropriate disciplinary action.

Blame the defendant; blame the lawyer. It’s taking too long. We never make mistakes. There never is a “report the prosecutor; fire the prosecutor” provision. The system cannot make mistakes; the system cannot admit fault. If the lawyer caused a problem, punish the lawyer. Nevermind that the specter of habeas is already a problem in the criminal defense bar with many taking the position that it’s a lawsuit against them personally, causing them to gleefully throw their clients under the bus, thus further compounding the failure of justice.

But can one really blame Florida when its an attitude that permeates from the top? A week or so ago, the United States Supreme Court did the unthinkable. It dismissed as improvidently granted [PDF] Boyer v. Louisiana. What that means is that after deciding to decide the important issue of just who pays when the system can’t pay to prosecute the cases prosecutors initiate, 5 justices of the august court decided that they didn’t want to decide that issue after all. Not because it isn’t an important issue, but because it was the defendant’s fault for raising that issue:

In sum, the record shows that the single largest share of the delay in this case was the direct result of defense requests for continuances, that other defense motions caused substantial additional delay, and that much of the rest of the delay was caused by events beyond anyone’s control. It is also quite clear that the delay caused by the defense likely worked in petitioner’s favor. The state court observed that petitioner’s assertions of his speedy trial right were “more perfunctory than aggressive.” 2010–693, p. 34 (La. App. 3 Cir. 2/2/11), 56 So. 3d 1119, 1143.

And as noted, most of this delay was caused by the many defense requests for continuances of   hearings on the issue of funding. If the defense had not sought and obtained those continuances, the trial might well have commenced at a much earlier date—and might have reached a conclusion far less favorable to the defense.

Justice Alito, apparently with a straight face, because he just gone writing that if only the damn defense didn’t raise that issue of the systemic lack of funding for capital defendants, the case wouldn’t have taken 7 years and we’d have had a death sentence already. So it’s the defendant’s fault that his right to a speedy trial was violated, but we’ll never say that because that would mean a new trial. So dismissed. And good luck with the next case, because the money still isn’t there but don’t you dare bring it up again.

Justice apparently need only be speedy when it is racing toward execution. The rest of the time, the system could grind itself to a halt for all anyone cares.

“Only God can judge,” Matt Gaetz, a Republican who sponsored the bill in the House of Representatives, said last week during House debate. “But we sure can set up the meeting.”

Let’s be sure we’re sending the right person to that meeting, first.

A system for you and a system for them

I think it should be pretty obvious by now that there are two justice systems in America: one for the rich white folk and the brothers in blue and one for the rest of us shmucks. You don’t normally see it in action as early on as the arrest, though, because it’s hard to convincingly argue that “if my client were white and middle-class his bond would be $20,000 non-surety but since he’s black it’s $100,00 cash only”.

Except when something like this happens:

Early Saturday, [Flathead County Deputy Attorney Kenneth “Rusty”] Park was the recipient of an unusual after-midnight hearing that allowed him to be released from custody without spending Saturday and Sunday in jail, as is the norm for Friday night arrests.

Park, whose fault isn’t that he got into a bit of a domestic with his girlfriend – shit happens and that doesn’t mean he’s necessarily a bad person – but that a judge showed up past midnight to give him a bond hearing. On a Friday night.

See, you don’t understand. This is unheard of. This never happens. Ever. You’re arrested on Friday? You’re stuck until Monday. Too bad. That’s why Monday mornings are terrible in arraignment courts because you’ve got the clients who’ve been cooped up all weekend, arrested on minor charges that the police saw fit to set high bonds for, who’re upset, angry, whose families have no clue where they are and who are wearing the same ratty, stinky clothes they were in on Friday night.

Not Park.

The result of that hearing was that Park was released on his own recognizance and did not have to sit in jail over the weekend until one of the justices was available during their regular hours Monday morning.

If I were a local attorney there, I’d be furious. A prosecutor accused of hitting his girlfriend is important enough to get a judge roused out of bed and into the local lockup to let him set Park’s bond to a promise to appear? And my client? Rot in jail until Monday and then we’ll see what’s proportional. Maybe $50,000 cash. Because you’re a bad person.

“If it was you or myself or any client I’ve ever represented, they would never, never, ever be allowed out till Monday,” [local attorney Jason] Bryan said. “He’s entitled to due process and how everything works out, but he shouldn’t be receiving any favors just because he’s a deputy county attorney. If anything, he should be held to a higher standard.”

Not Park.

What do you think is going to happen when word of this spreads? Why shouldn’t every single other person arrested in that county demand a hearing at midnight so they don’t have to sit in jail over the weekend, wiling away their liberty over baseless charges like Park’s? Why is their due process and justice different than Park’s?

I’m not saying Park should be forced to sit in jail for the weekend; heck, I wouldn’t want to. But am I entitled to special treatment? Or is the treatment that Park received – a fair, timely hearing that set bond at a level that is actually commensurate with the allegation – the treatment that every defendant should receive? Shouldn’t the justice system should have only one set of rules.

Because if we start making different rules for different people based on who they are and what they do and what they look like, we’ll end up with..well, what we have right now. And that ain’t too hot, is it?