The Blue Executions (20 page)

The Grand Jury had heard
almost a week’s worth of evidence up to this point; mostly forensic and crime scene testimony.  Galvin was at the courthouse each and every day, anxiously awaiting his turn to testify and tell his version of events from that fateful night almost two months earlier.  Although he knew that he had not done anything wrong, he also knew that his future would be in the hands of the twenty-three strangers who made up the grand jury.

Galvin had all the faith in the world in Laurie
; he had to.  He still couldn’t believe that she had convinced Walter Dunham to allow her to present the case to the grand Jury—especially with the case against Peter Groff set to begin in a few weeks.  He thought of Laurie and how supportive she had been throughout the entire ordeal.  She had assured him that there would not be an indictment handed down against him, but until he heard the words
No True Bill
, he could not rest easy.  He had argued with her how the negative press would sway the jury against him.  She argued back that all of the press was not negative.  He reminded himself to call Brian McGregor when this was finally behind him and thank him for the support in a series of recent articles.

Galvin sat on the wooden bench outside the jury room.  He couldn’t help but to think what would happen to him if he was indicted and God forbid convicted.  It
was
possible for Laurie to be wrong.  He looked up at the old fashioned clock hanging on the off-white walls.  It was just before eight a.m.  The Grand Jury convened earlier than usual today to hear his case.  Galvin hoped that the jurors would not be upset with him for having to have gotten up so early this morning.

Today was the make or break day for the case.  Not only was Galvin set to testify but so were the rest of the eyewitnesses
as well as the medical experts.  If all went according to plan, the jury would vote the case today.

Laurie Bando arrived at the Grand Jury building a few minutes after Galvin.  She wore a red blouse and a tan knee length skirt.  She looked very nice today, he thought. 
Bando looked around once she entered the waiting area.  There was nobody else there.  She took Galvin by the hand and led him into an office behind the benches.

“Listen Tommy, the other witnesses are going to be here any minute.  I don’t want them to say that you threatened them or anything crazy like that.  Stay here until I come and get you.
  If they don’t see you, then they can’t make any absurd accusations.”

She looked him in the eyes, seemingly empathizing with his worries.  She forced a smile as she adjusted his
burnt orange tie and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.  “You look very handsome.  Did you wear the tan suit today because you know that it’s my favorite?”

“Laurie, I’m scared.  What if they…”

She put her hand to his lips.  “Shhh.  I told you not to worry,” she said as she wiped away the traces of her lipstick from his mouth.  “I could just as easily indict a ham sandwich in there as have Al Capone walk a free man.  You need to trust me…I promise, you
will
be fine.”

She embraced him tighter than she had ever done before.  “I’ll be back in a
couple of hours.  Positive thoughts,” she instructed as she walked out of the office, closing the door behind her and leaving Galvin alone with his thoughts.

Shortly before eight-thirty, Laurie Bando was set to begin presenting today’s witnesses to the grand jury.  The majority of the witnesses that she had expected to be there were; Mark Jenkins and Tyrone Walker were not.  This didn
’t come as too much of a surprise to Bando, in her experience through her years in the District Attorney’s office, she had seen many witnesses who lied about an incident not show up on the day they were scheduled to testify.

From three eyewitnesses to just one
…Lance Porter.

Bando
nodded her head approvingly upon learning the other two men had not shown up.  She greeted Mr. Porter as he was escorted into the building by two members of the Queens County District Attorney’s Detective Squad.  She was surprised to see Porter wearing a tie; albeit, it was worn in conjunction with blue jean shorts and Timberland work boots.  Bando invited Porter, as well as Charlene Waters, who was also escorted by the D.A.’s squad, to have a seat on the wooden benches outside of the Grand Jury room.

Bando
took one of the detectives by the arm and pulled him aside.  “What happened to the other two guys…Jenkins and Walker? Bando inquired—a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

The detective offered a surreptitious smile
and shrugged his shoulders.  “Nobody answered the door.”

Good.

“What a shock.  Do you think
that there’s any chance that they show up on their own?”

His initial response was a sarcastic snicker. 
“Not a chance,” the detective confidently reassured her.  “We’ve left messages for them on the cell phone numbers they originally gave us.  Guess what, both numbers have since been disconnected.  Also, when I went to Jenkins house last week for you, his mother said that he went to Virginia for the summer.  There’s no way these clowns will show up today.  I’d bet my house on that.”

Relieved, she bestowed a smile. 
“Thanks Phil.”

Bando
walked away from the detective and over to the white-shirted court officer standing just outside the entrance to the Grand Jury.  “Good morning, Pete.  Are all of the jurors present?”

“Yes they are Laurie.  They’re all waiting on you.”

She nodded her head and took a deep breath.  “Thank you.”

Laurie Bando
entered the Grand Jury.  She felt a nervousness which she had not felt in years.  Today would be one of the biggest days of her life—not so much professionally but more personally.  She needed to make sure this jury did not indict Tommy Galvin.  She looked over the jury and presented them with the most sincere smile she could muster.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen.  As you know by now, my name is Laurie Bando and I am the Assistant District Attorney handling this case.  I just wanted to take a couple of minutes to address you before I present any witnesses today because by the end of the day this case will be in your hands.”  She noted
that a few of the jurors, who hadn’t seemed to be paying much attention to her as she began to speak, seemed to perk up.

“I want you all to realize that you have a very important job.  A man’s career…future…and freedom are at stake.  You and you alone have the power to have him arrested and charged with murder or a lesser included charge, where he would be brought before a judge and jury to answer for his actions.  The people will then have to prove
beyond a reasonable doubt
that this man, a sworn police officer of New York City, did in fact, commit the crime that
you
have indicted him on.”  Bando paused to let their responsibility sink in before she continued.

“You also have the power to vote
not
to indict him.”  She consciously nodded her head while stressing the word not; her eyes met each and every juror.  “If after hearing the evidence, you feel that the police officer did
not
step outside the boundaries of the law, then you
must
vote not to indict.  I wanted to address this with you before you hear testimony today because up until now, the witnesses that you have heard from have been presenting physical evidence and other non-disputable facts.  Today’s witnesses will tell you what they say happened in the courtyard at 116-80 Guy Brewer Boulevard on the evening of May 13.  Some of the testimony may be contradictory with other testimony that you hear.”

She widened her eyes and pointed at the jurors with her right index finger, from left to right as they sat in the jury box.  “It is up to you to decide who is being truthful and who is not.  If you feel a person is purposefully lying, then you may discount his entire testimony if you deem him or her to be unreliable.” 

She once again left her comments hang there, hoping the seed was planted.  Having left the jurors with the notion of lying as the last thing they heard, she decided Lance Porter would be the logical choice as the day’s first witness.

The court officer directed Porter to have a seat in the witness chair.  Once he was sworn in,
Bando began the examination of the witness.

“
Good morning, Mr. Porter.  Would you please state your name and address for the members of the jury?”

After he provided his pedigree information
, Bando continued.  “And Mr. Porter, by whom are you employed?”

Porter sat tall in the witness stand. 
Bando felt he looked confident, if not cocky.  “I’m employed as a security guard at J.F.K. airport.”

“Thank you. 
And for how long have you worked at the airport?”

“A few months,” Porter replied in a low voice through what looked like a forced smile.

“And prior to working as a security guard, what did you do for a living?”

The smile quickly vanished.  His eyes seemed to slightly narrow at her. 
Bando sensed she had hit a nerve.  “I was unemployed before that.”

“Okay, for how long?  When was your last job before being gainfully employed at the airport?”

Porter tugged at his olive green tie; loosening from the pale blue collar of his shirt.  “What’s my resume got to do with that cop killing my man?”

Got him
.

Bando
knew that she had him on the ropes already and she was just beginning.  She held a reassuring hand up to him.  She knew that she needed to fight her excitement.  “I’m sorry Mr. Porter.  I was just trying to establish your roots in the community,” she lied.  “Let’s move on.”

“I’d like to direct your attention to May 13, 201
3 at about six-thirty p.m. in the vicinity of the courtyard located in the rear of 116-80 Guy Brewer Boulevard.  Were you present at that time and location?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Is that location in the county of Queens?”

Porter nodded.  “Yeah.”

“Thank you Mr. Porter.”  Motioning with her hand, the ADA directed the witness to speak to the jurors.  “Will you please describe for the members of the jury, what if anything happened at that time and location.”

She watched as Porter nervously licked his lips and then wiped them with his hand before beginning.  “Me and my boys was
hangin’ on the corner by Foch…you know, enjoying the weather and such.  Then this car pulls up and this DT starts walking up on us.”

First mistake!

“I’m sorry to interrupt Mr. Porter, we need to be clear.  What do you mean by a
DT
?”

“Oh, yeah right.  A DT is
what we call a detective, in the hood.”

“So you
did
recognize him to be a detective then?”

“Yeah…I mean no.”  He licked his lips feverishly.  “What I mean is I know
that he is a DT now.  I mean a detective.”

Bando, realizing she had just scored her first points against the witness, looked over to the jurors, hoping it had not been lost on them.

“And since the incident, have you learned the detective’s name?”

“Yeah, his name’s Detective Galvin.”

“Thank you, please continue.”

“Well, this
Detective Galvin just came over to us and started grabbing up on my boy, Darrin for no reason.  At the time I didn’t know he was a detective.”

Bando felt the back peddling was obvious; that could only help Tommy.  “For the record, do you know Darrin’s last name?”

“Yeah, Jackson.”  Bando could sense Porter start to relax once again.  That could work to her advantage if he got too comfortable.

“Thank you Mr. Porter.  Were you and Darrin alone at the time of the incident?”

Nah, my other boys was there too but they ain’t coming today because they afraid of what the po-lice will do if they testify against them.”

Touché; a point for him
.

Bando
was sure that the line had been rehearsed.  “Please continue.”

Porter smiled, most likely satisfied with himself for working the line into his testimony
, felt Bando.  “So Darrin starts running from this guy and the guy is chasing him.  Then the dude pulls out a gun and he’s threatening Darrin with it for no reason.  Me and my boys was all scared.  We didn’t know what the hell was going on.  Then Darrin sees the gun and just stops running.  We was all afraid the dude was gonna cap him.  Then the guy, Detective Galvin
,
hits Darrin over the head with the gun.  Darrin wasn’t even fighting.  The guy just hit him.  Then when Darrin fell to the ground and the guy just kept beating on him.” 

She noticed Porter seemed to get angry at first, and then he began to fight back tears—crocodile tears, she was certain.  “Then the cop puts the gun right to Darrin’s head.  Somehow Darrin turned to the side just as the cop tried to shoot him in the head.”

“Thank you Mr. Porter.  Can you tell the members of this jury, did you see where the bullet struck if it did not strike Mr. Jackson?”