Mr. Starr

Mr. Starr

“Were you the first officer to arrive at the scene of the shooting?”  The Defense attorney asked as I sat on the witness stand.

“Yes sir, I was.”  My voice quivered and echoed through the cavernous courtroom. 

“How long have you been a police officer?”  Mr. Starr asked. 

“Seven months, Mr. Starr.” I should have looked at the jury when I answered, not the attorney, I forgot my training. 

“What time of day was it when you arrived?”  Mr. Starr was a prominent attorney, he handled only big cases.  His expensive suit and Rolex watch testified to his affluence. 

“It was nine pm, sir.”  I knew the defense attorney would make a mountain out of nothing just to muddy the waters, and Mr. Starr was an expert at that.

“How far could you see when you exited your patrol car?”  Mr. Starr added, “Exactly how far?” 

“I didn’t stop to check, it was dark.” 

Mr. Starr rolled his eyes.

"I want you to tell the jury exactly how far you could see.”  He was being dramatic, putting on a show for the jury.  I had enough of his games.

I turned to the jury..

“I could see two hundred and forty thousand miles when I got out of my patrol car.”  Mr. Starr was incredulous, he walked to my chair, he stood so close I could smell his cigar breath.

“How could you determine something like that?”  He thundered.

Looking at the jury I said, “When I got out of the patrol car, I remember I could see the moon.”

The jury erupted in laughter.

“No more questions, your honor!” Mr. Starr sat down. 



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