The Secret Trial Of Scott Peterson

by S. M. Wallace
20 Jul 2004 at 1:07am
As a divorce attorney lacking knowledge in the nuances of criminal procedure, I couldn't answer my own query: Why are so many hearings in this case being conducted in judge's chambers? This is a public court and public proceeding, I reasoned, and in the absence of some kind of protective order, it made no sense that so much seemed to be happening not only in the absence of the jury, but in the absence of the public altogether.
 
Surely, all regular trial observers have grown accustomed to delays and unscheduled adjournments. These trial hiccups may be due to unforeseen evidentiary or logistical issues, and are not uncommon in on-going trials. Neither are in camera hearings, usually off-the-record meetings between lawyers and a judges. Leaving aside the issue and applicability of protective orders, the general goal for in camera hearings is to promote frank discussion between opposing counsel, and to reduce posturing among them. In my experience, judges utilize these private conferences as last-ditch efforts to settle an issue (if not an entire case), thereby short-circuiting a litigious, on-the-record hearing (or trial) and unknown decision. Accordingly, not only does the judge host this clandestine meeting in his chambers, he also acts as its informal referee.
 
The Peterson court reporter, in contrast, seems to be a regular attendee at this trial's in camera hearings. His presence raises the question: If these hearings, occurring in the middle of a public trial, are on-the-record, why are they being conducted in private? Why are they not held in a public courtroom, as are virtually all hearings? When I asked these questions, yesterday morning prior to the seat drawing, I had no idea media lawyers were simultaneously preparing to debate that same issue with Judge Delucchi.
 
I'm not sure who knew the media's motion had been filed. The only thing I knew for certain was that the court intended to spend the morning, yet again, on an issue outside the presence of the jury. As was normally the case, I understood this to mean another in camera hearing. So I left 400 County Center to attend to personal matters. As I ran my errands, back in Department 42 the motion filed by the media's First Amendment lawyers on the public-hearing issue was heard, in an open hearing. [This is my understanding as related by Marlene N., who I believe said she lucked into it. I will double check.] By lunchtime, Judge Delucchi apparently had agreed with the petitioning attorneys, ruling that future hearings shall be open to the public. This includes the Defense's motion to dismiss, calendared for July 29th. [Presently, it is not entirely clear to me whether all future hearings will be open, or just the Defense's July 29th motion to dismiss. I will have to double check.]
 
Judge Delucchi's new glasnost policy did not come without at least a bit of chill: at the Defense's dismissal hearing on July 29th, there shall be no references to a particular Modesto police de...

Like A Needle In An Ocean

by S. M. Wallace
23 Jul 2004 at 5:36pm
Somewhere in the murky, muddy depths of San Francisco Bay, they are hiding. Four anchors, the Prosecution alleges, which Scott Peterson used to weigh and sink his victims. With the dearth of physical evidence in this case, the potential evidentiary value of these targets could not be overstated. Neither could the vigor with which the authorities went after them.
 
The FBI, Modesto Police, and law enforcement from Contra Costa, San Mateo and Santa Clara counties were among the numerous governmental and private entities which searched the Bay for these items, and indeed for any evidence of the crime. For over a year, and as recently as May 2004, law enforcement drew search grids, coordinated search teams, equipped boats with side-scan sonar and imaged the Bay floor, marked and plotted targets, and sent down divers. At times, pursuing by all means any physical evidence linking the Defendant and the crime, authorities in helicopters hovered over the Bay, scanning the water with binoculars; at other times, expert-only divers labored in conditions of zero-visibility, literally sticking their hands in the Bay's silty, muddy floor in a blind search for the target.  
 
Unfortunately for law enforcement, the "needle in a thousand haystacks" nature of the search, exacerbated by exceedingly frustrating water conditions, portended its yield. Further limiting the power of the Prosecution's case, the exhaustive Bay effort produced no relevant evidence. And twenty-pounds of concrete remain at-large, lost forever at the bottom of a great muddy bowl.

Before continuing substantive discussion of this date's proceedings in the Scott Peterson trial, I'd like to comment for a moment on the change, announced and running forward from today, in the protocol for distributing public seats. Due to rampant, blatant abuse, the honor system has been abandoned.

Although it may seem odd, on most mornings at least some radio and television reporters vie with the rest of us for the thirty courtroom seats designated for the public. Many cried unfair, since, in addition to the courtroom seats designated exclusively as theirs, the media have a listening room in the Old Courthouse across the street. Regardless, as reported to me, at yesterday's drawing a "member of the media" had his ticket number called. Unfortunatley, when this not-particularly-clever individual went to receive his courtroom pass, he had to rifle between the five tickets he held in his hand until finding the winner. His act, played out in full view of Carol and Deputy Radojevich, signaled the end of the honor system.
 
Whether or not a well-known fact, the loophole in the original "one person, one ticket" concept had been flaunted for weeks; the clueless reporter's lack of discretion was just symptomatic of a process spiraling out-of-control. So this morning prior to ticket distribution, Deputy Radojevich explained that, "due to abuse," the honor system of ticket distribution had been replaced with a new...

The Reason We Are All Here

by S. M. Wallace
16 Jul 2004 at 12:50am
In case anyone needed it, today we all were reminded, harshly, of the purpose of court convening each morning in Department 42.

After yet another delay to the start of the session, at 10:20 a.m. the jury was seated and trial testimony resumed. The prosecution called Douglas Kent Mansfield, an investigator with the Calif. Department of Justice. He interviewed defendant Scott Peterson on December 25th. Interestingly, with this witness Mr. Geragos meticulously reviewed the timeline of events as stated by Scott Peterson that Christmas Day.

After testimony from the man from the DOJ, Mr. Distaso called witness Michael Loobey, who discovered the remains of Connor Peterson in April 2003. Mr. Loobey was barely halfway through his first answer on the stand when Sharon Rocha, Brent Rocha, and Ron Grantski, knowing what was about to be shown on the overhead projector, stood up and briskly exited the courtroom.
 
Personally, already having seen photographs of the decedents during Mr. Distaso's opening statement did little to diminish the impact of viewing them again this afternoon.

After court everyone wanted to know, speaking of the victims, What did they look like? A better question may be, How does one adequately describe the embodiment of an unspeakable fate? Even if possible I will decline an attempt in this forum, believing it sufficient to state that the photographs depicted horrific images.

My X-Rated Dinner With Scott

by S. M. Wallace
30 Jun 2004 at 2:17am
Like my friend Phil said, as we exited the courthouse this afternoon and reflected on a decisively victorious round for the prosecution: whatever Messrs. Distaso and Harris had for breakfast this morning, they ought to have it again tomorrow. Of course, the bombshells they had exploding in and around Camp Peterson didn't exactly hurt their cause, either.

[Brocchini attends Distaso's rehab clinic.]

[Distaso gets fired up. Judge allows questioning that clearly bothers Geragos. Geragos objections flying. Attorneys argue over testimony and questioning outside presence of jury.]

[Brocchini testifies about a police tip: in 1995 Scott told me how he'd get away with murder (oh man, you've got to hear this one). As good as it sounds it's just as likely not true, and the "tipster" apparently has been deemed not credible by the DA.]

[Expert testimony re Peterson's handgun: I think we all can agree that, when the gun was examined by law enforcement forensics, it hadn't been fired recently.]

[Co-worker and acquaintance testify re Anaheim convention: Scott Peterson's raunchy dinner-time dialogue turned our stomachs.]

[Trial day ends with defense attorney Harris asking the witness two questions to which the attorney, apparently, does not know the answer. Bad idea, boys and girls...]

The Falconer Has Flown

by S. M. Wallace
13 Jul 2004 at 2:52am
Ahh yes, just another day in the trial of People v. Scott Peterson.

I had not seen the previous session's direct-examination of Detective Al Brocchini, in a rare occurrence having lucked out of the lottery. As I understood it, the DA had spent at least a portion of Monday "taking the sting" out of damaging testimony Mr. Geragos was likely to elicit from the homicide detective (think meringue). I knew today the defense had one goal: to put the sting back in.

Prior to the defense's cross-exam Det. Brocchini strolled along the aisle behind my chair, on his way to the seating area reserved for the prosecution. As he approached and then passed me, I couldn't help but hear the detective humming a little tune. Though it sounded nice enough, something about it failed to ring true. The detective couldn't have been looking forward to Mr. Geragos's cross-exam, I thought, based on what I knew about his role in the criminal investigation and the investigation in general. If I were Det. Brocchini, I absolutely would have been dreading the experience. With this in mind, to my ears Det. Brocchini's songette sounded more like a whistle in the dark.

Det. Brocchini had plenty of time to whistle, it turned out, for he, like the rest of us, would have to wait awhile for the commencement of his cross-examination. At least an hour wait, the good deputy at the front of the courtroom told us a few minutes after nine. The man with the loaded Ruger then offered two options: sit quietly or leave and come back later. That was my cue for breakfast. As I hit the street I overheard a cameraman talking about the delay; his information was that Juror No. 5 had been booted off the jury. The cameraman went on to say that a certain lawyer inside the court had been seen relaying hand-signals to someone outside the court. Reportedly, the lawyer held out five fingers, then followed with a short thumb-jerk (the latter motion ostensibly indicating removal). If true, and this particular juror had been excused, I knew for sure that Geragos and Company were not going to be pleased.

Forty-five minutes later, after a bagel and coffee, I returned to the court. Seeing the media in and around their cordoned-off, front-of-the-courthouse area signaled that the session upstairs had not yet begun. I lingered outside, chatting with a few others out waiting for court to resume, and all the talk was about a certain juror. And the consensus was undeniable: Juror No. 5 had been removed, and the judge and lawyers currently were dealing with this contingency.

At 11:35 a.m. Judge Delucchi and the attorneys re-entered the courtroom. A few moments later the jurors followed, appearing one at a time, same as always. There was, as predicted by consensus, one obvious difference: No. 5 was not among them. I busily scribbled notes on my legal pad in confirmation of this development; to my left, at least several others (media, I assume, without wireless) dashed for the courtroom exit to spread the word, ...

"Mark Is Mad..."

by S. M. Wallace
13 Jul 2004 at 2:59am
...or so read the all-capitals entry in a fellow trial-watcher's notebook, describing an impression of Scott Peterson's defense attorney. Indeed, Mr. Geragos was a tad bit indignant this morning and, come to think of it, was pretty pissed this afternoon as well. If Mark was mad the prosecution was just bad, as Messrs. Distaso and Harris managed to phone-in yet another bewildering performance.

At 9:00 a.m., prior to the jury's presence, a deputy summoned and escorted Brent Rocha through the rear courtroom door; after a few moments in judge's chambers Mr. Rocha re-appeared, retaking his front-row seat beside his mother. There was no question, at least in my mind, that Mr. Rocha's audience with the judge related to the incident with Juror No. 5. At twelve minutes past ten the jury entered and assumed its postition, as did Judge Delucchi.

[Delucchi criticizes media]

[Geragos blasts media: although majority are acting responsibly, "certain reporters" are "fabricating" story. Media is "out to lunch." "What's been reported is one-hundred percent false!" Geragos very animated, appears very upset. Believe the feeling was genuine, since his anger clearly carried over into the commencement of his cross-examination of Det. Brocchini.]

[Delucchi criticizes media again, saying "some members [of media] have been irresponsible." He looks very displeased. He then asks jury to avoid "innocent" talking.]

District Attorney Richard Distaso began the morning session by calling Stacey Boyers to the stand. After swearing-in, Ms. Boyers told the jury that she had known the victim, Laci Peterson, since the third grade. Clearly still affected by the loss of her friend, over these first few words of testimony Ms. Boyers struggled not to cry. Mr. Distaso immediately offered the witness some tissue, surely a no-brainer, but an act that nevertheless humanized, if only momentarily, the otherwise stoic prosecutor. Another childhood friend, Lori Ellsworth, testified next. Like Ms. Boyers, she described some curious, even suspicious, behavior on the part of the defendant.

But it is what the prosecution failed to have these witnesses say that leaves at least two of us in the gallery, once again, scratching our heads. Full credit to fellow trial-watcher [person who heretofore shall remain nameless, permission pending] for identifying the issue, a prime opportunity for the DA to back-up his opening statement and paint Scott Peterson as a detestable husband, an opportunity to which the DA, apparently, was oblivious.

In his opening, Mr. Distaso claimed the following: On December 14, 2002, Laci Peterson went to a holiday party in Modesto. Laci's husband, however, did not accompany her to this particular event. Instead, on the evening of December 14th Scott Peterson attended a different party in Fresno on the arm of his mistress, Amber Frey. Mr. Distaso simultaneously presented photographs allegedly taken at both parties to support these claims. One photograph depicted a bro...

Fact or Fiction?

by S. M. Wallace
15 Jul 2004 at 2:07am
A wise man once told me that, for every story he read in the newspaper of which he had personal knowledge, he always could count at least one factual error. Admittedly, other than second-hand editions of The Wall Street Journal, I stopped reading the newspaper as a matter of routine long ago.

Last year, though, my grandmother died and I checked a local give-away rag for her obituary. Unfortunately, what I saw written in her memoriam would have surprised even that jaded wise man, for printed under her name was the description of someone else entirely. As the Palo Alto Daily News would have it, and completely unknown to any of her family or friends, my grandmother had married someone other than my grandfather and for decades worked as an administrative assistant at Sequoia High School. I always meant to thank the editors for this bungled remembrance, but thought the better of it. I'd still like to know, though: Was the blunder just a lazy oversight, or did the high-school truant who penned the obituary confuse the assignment with an exercise from his creative writing class?

Thankfully, not all media reporting is created equal. On the first day of the trial Chris Filippi, a KFBK radio reporter, interviewed me. Since then I have heard him many times on various radio stations, and I think he's a good reporter. His command of the facts and ability to speak well and clearly are noticeable and appreciated. I also like KFI's Laura Ingle, who I heard Thursday comment on the simmering jury controversy. Her wickedly-accurate analysis of the thumb-twiddling, arm-folding, "What's up, Peterson?" head-nodding Juror No. 5 made me a fan for life.

But I wonder which is the exception and which the rule, as I have identified incorrect reporting on this case from the first day of trial. Late that afternoon I heard an hourly news update on local radio reporting that "both the prosecution and defense presented their opening arguments today." As all in attendance knew, Mr. Distaso filled the entire first trial day with his opening statement; Mr. Geragos went the next morning. That particular report contained another error so ubiquitous in media reporting that I have decided to abandon all future attempts to correct it. But one last time, for good measure, and shouting: "IT'S AN OPENING STATEMENT, AND THE OTHER IS A CLOSING ARGUMENT." I fully understand, no one cares about this distinction, not even my beloved The Wall Street Journal. Lawyers, judges, and the law, however, comprehend and appreciate the important differences between these two trial components. I guess that will have to suffice.

More errors:

Mr. Cardoza is not a Peterson defense attorney, contrary to report.

A Saturday report said that "X, Y and Z happened yesterday at the Peterson trial." That'd be nice but court is dark Fridays.

Searching Man

by S. M. Wallace
15 Jul 2004 at 2:22am
Sgt. Ron Cloward was impressive today, in my opinion, clearly the prosecution's best witness to date. The person in charge of the search for Laci Peterson for over three months, Sgt. Cloward struck me as intelligent, honest, and serious, as the right man for the job and who did everything within his power to find the missing woman. For the entire morning session and a large portion of the afternoon's, Sgt. Cloward articulately related to the jury the details and evolution of his mission. He also appeared completely at-ease on the stand, and skillfully handled Mr. Geragos's cross-examination.

Before discussing Sgt. Clower's testimony in greater detail, though, I'd like to address an issue I raised privately weeks ago. It also relates to what I wrote yesterday concerning Mr. Geragos's courtroom theatrics, and it is the same issue Sharon Rocha publicly raised this morning to courthouse reporters.

Three weeks old, the trial has seen more than a few convivial moments, most engineered in some fashion by Mr. Geragos. Sharon Rocha finally commented upon the outbursts today. "I think Mr. Geragos needs to stop joking so much," she said, addressing reporters prior to this morning's testimony. "There's nothing humorous about the fact that my daughter was murdered." The latter statement is undeniable.

On the first day of trial testimony, When Mark Geragos joked about pepperoni loaf with witness Fred Eachus, the court roared with laughter. I didn't happen to join in the commotion, but not because I thought Mr. Geragos was a jerk or because that wasn't my kind of humor. I didn't laugh because I didn't feel comfortable laughing. When I am in that courtroom I am observing a double-murder trial, and I do so with the victim's family seated a few feet away. Acutely aware of their presence, I feel disrespectful, if not a bit ashamed, to manifest personal enjoyment in circumstances that must be, to them, a continual source of tremendous grief. Moreover, courtrooms are designed to create an atmosphere of formality and respect. Laughter is incongruous with this idea.

Having attended most trial sessions, I have been able to observe both families and, on several occasions, insignificantly interact with several of them. Most recently, sensing my hapless pursuit of cream in the court cafeteria, Mrs. Peterson kindly told me it was on the other side of the counter. Those close to both victim and defendant appear to be nothing but polite and decent individuals. And even if my impression of Ron Grantski, for instance, was the exact opposite, who would I be to criticize this person? I don't know him and I've never walked a day in his shoes.

Earlier in the trial, prior to testimony one morning, I looked to the front of the courtroom and saw Sharon Rocha and Ron Grantski. I can recall an empty seat separating them, though I cannot remember by whom, if anyone, they may have been joined. But I saw the two of them clearly, talking back and forth. And even if only for a mome...

The Entertainer

by S. M. Wallace
25 Jun 2004 at 4:57am
Seemingly pursuant to the theory that no stone should go unturned, today the prosecution called Corina Ramos, a young woman who worked at the medical office in Modesto where Laci Peterson made pre-natal visits in October and December 2002. If there was any redeeming quality in Mr. Harris's direct-exam of Ms. Ramos, it was its extreme brevity. After giving the jury a rundown of medical office holiday hours, Ms. Ramos explained that Laci Peterson did not call the office on Christmas Eve. In response to further questions by Mr. Harris, she told the jury she wouldn't have known if any messages had been left on the office's answering machine over the Christmas holiday, since she called in sick on December 26th.

As Ms. Ramos wended her way out of the courtroom, many in gallery apparently had the same questions about her testimony--what was the point of it? It was none other than Mr. Geragos who ulitmately gave expression to our collective frustration. Relying on my notes, and without the benefit of a prohibitively-expensive official transcript, Mr. Geragos's memorable cross-examination of Ms. Ramos went something like this:

Delucchi (because it's his duty): "Mr. Geragos, do you have any questions for the witness?"

Geragos (seated, tone borderline incredulous): "Your honor, I'd like to know why she's even here."

Snickers and giggles are heard throughout the courtroom.

Geragos (directing attention to witness): "Ms. Ramos...were you really sick when you called into the medical office the day after Christmas?"

The courtroom erupts in laughter.

Ramos (still under oath, barely audible above the din): "No!"

Her effusively honest answer brings down the house; the courtroom is in hysterics.

Geragos (seriously, tone suggesting empathy): "Ms. Ramos, did you drive up here today all the way from Modesto?"

Ramos: "Yes."

Geragos: "And are you enjoying your stay in San Mateo?"

(The answer could not be heard by this observer. There were no further questions for the witness.)

Upon the completion of Ms. Ramos's ultra-lightweight direct testimony, Mr. Geragos would have been well-within his right to simply decline to question the witness and let her be excused. Instead, the defense attorney seized the opportunity, belittling the prosecution while (perhaps) currying favor with a juror or two.

Distaso's No Picasso

by S. M. Wallace
26 Jun 2004 at 4:25am
After opening to less-than-rave reviews, the Monday-morning crowd overwhelmingly panned the DA's second performance, Thursday's witness call. Mr. Distaso could not escape even self-criticism, admitting he was "a little scattered" during the proceedings. [Palo Alto Daily News, June 4, 2004 p. 14] The prosecution desperately needed to re-focus, not to mention return to the offensive, and I think they accomplished both objectives. The praise, however, is guarded: while the prosecution recast an essential cloud of suspicion over defendant Scott Peterson, the defense found at least one important silver lining in it.

Of course, I had to win the seat lotto again before I could see any of the day's proceedings. The number of people, which I estimate at forty-five to sixty, trying to snag one of the thirty available public seats so far has not waned. [Name], who performs the lotto draw each morning with a smile, and [Deputy Name], who lends an air of good-natured authority over the event, must bring me good luck, though. This morning my numbers hit again, the unbeaten streak intact.

[I'm not the only one with a current run of good fortune, incidentally. My mom, Virginia, has played the seat lottery each day as well, and together we are a combined seven for eight, generating many expected responses from the seat-seeking crowd. Even Mark Geragos, given the opportunity, couldn't resist tossing in a cliche. Wanting an autograph on her courtroom access card, my mother corralled the defense attorney just before he loaded up a plate at the Courthouse Cafe salad bar, next to which we conveniently sat. Mr. Geragos graciously stepped to our table and, while affixing a personalized signature to the card, listened to her explain how lucky we've been in the seat drawing. "Well," Geragos said, turning to his empty plate nearby, "I should have you pick my lottery numbers."]

As anticipated, the DA began the morning session by calling Sharon Rocha to the stand. Mr. Distaso eased Mrs. Rocha into her testimony, asking Laci Peterson's mother to describe Modesto ("a normal, everyday town") and talk about her daughter's life and marriage histories. She recalled her daughter's excitement over a new boyfriend, Scott Peterson, and meeting him for the first time in 1994. At that dinner meeting, Mrs. Rocha described a table adorned with a dozen red roses for Laci and a dozen white roses for her, gifts from her future son-in-law.

[Testimony re defendant's suspicious behavior.]

[Testimony re defendant's extra-marital affair in SLO.]

Senior District Attorney Richard Distaso also had a better trial day, stepping-up his courtroom performance, albeit only relative to an inauspicious start. Mr. Distaso suppressed, but could not eliminate, his tendency to speak over his witnesses' answers, and reduced the number of voluntarily-rephrased questions. More substantially, the increase in objections from Mr. Geragos caught my attention. And that's the thing about objections: they get...

Whose Witness Is It, Anyway?

by S. M. Wallace
12 Jun 2004 at 3:40am
Inexplicably, the first full day of witness testimony for the District Attorney resulted in a hands-down victory for the defense, as Distaso and team failed to counter-punch Geragos's dynamic, effective opening statement and re-establish prosecutorial momentum. Simply put, it was a day the DA would just as soon forget. DiStaso's lackluster witnesses, when not spinning their own confusing, contradictory yarns, served the defense well under cross-examination as proxies for bashing Modesto law enforcement.

Perhaps I should preface any further comments as follows: I am a lawyer who never has conducted a criminal trial, and for the Peterson proceedings I am nothing more than a Monday-morning litigator and commentator. Moreover, I have great respect for prosecutors, who have very tough jobs and a current charge I certainly do not envy. But I was disappointed in the DA's presentation today and, discussing the day's courtroom events with others privy to it, my perception was shared. And if for nothing else but the sake of due process, I can only hope the men from Stanislaus substantially improve their trial performance.

The previous day's opening statement by Geragos, while leaving many key questions unanswered, told a clear and gratifyingly-concise story of Scott Peterson, reasonable actor. The DA, calling its first full day of witnesses, needed to shift the jury's focus back to the victim, the crime, and the defendant. This possibly could have been achieved with a compelling, emotion-evoking witness, like Sharon Rocha. I understand that this trial is a marathon, not a sprint, and the DA has a finite amount of arrows in its quiver; Mrs. Rocha represents one of their most important witnesses. But first impressions count, and surely Mrs. Rocha's testimony would have played on the heartstrings of even the most detached juror. The DA had the chance to make Scott Peterson look like the bad guy again.

Instead, shortly after nine in the morning, Distaso called Fred Eachus, the manager of a Modesto Trader Joe's. The jury, however, is less likely to remember him as the person who authenticated Laci Peterson's purchase receipt from December 23rd as the set-up man for Geragos's "pepperoni and cheese loaf" quip. Many in the gallery responded to the defense lawyer's levity with laughter. Gauging by the looks on their faces, however, most of the jurors did not appear to find the joke as amusing.

Next on the stand was Tina R., a manicurist from Sweet Serenity Day Spa. Tina testified she saw Laci Peterson at the spa late in the afternoon of the 23rd. At the time Laci was wearing black pants, a long, white shirt, and she appeared tired when she left. We also learned that Tina had no contact with Laci outside the spa, and that Laci had been to the spa aprroximately three times.

The owner of Sweet Serentity Day Spa, Michelle Buer, testified next, and she corroborated Tina R.'s claim that Laci seemed tired on the afternoon of the 23rd. Under cross-examination by ...

Stone-cold Geragos

by S. M. Wallace
21 Jun 2004 at 12:17am
Nothing is perfect, of course, and Geragos's opening statement was no exception. On matters of detail, while addressing the jury early on Geragos turned to either an associate or assistant and requested a particular document. Geragos paused for maybe ten seconds while the requestee futilely searched file folders for the exhibit. One of at least one-hundred and twenty-five people sitting in silence and staring at the back of his head, I imagined those ten seconds must have felt like ten hours to the document-challenged young man. Later in the opening I believe Geragos invoked the name "Amber" when actually intending to refer to Laci Peterson, though I will have to double-check this fact. [**Upon further investigation, Mr. Geragos mistakenly did tell the jury that the defendant "did not kill Amber."] As soon as Mr. Geragos said this I looked at Scott Peterson for some type of reaction. I could not discern an external one. On matters of substance, Geragos did not address allegations regarding his client's inconsistent answers as to his whereabouts on December 24th, i.e. why, in the first hours of the investigation, Mr. Peterson told his neighbors he had been golfing but told Laci Peterson's mother he had been in Berkeley.

Notwithstanding the above, Geragos's opening was tightly, neatly, and effectively presented. His theatrical yet to-the-point style contrasted sharply with G-man Distaso's plodding, "just the unabridged and expanded edition of the facts, Ma'am" single-mindedness. [ ]

Though it may be considered something of a courtroom cliche, at one point Mr. Geragos held aloft a large Redwell bucket folder stuffed with documents. [ ]

You Gotta Win To Get In

by S. M. Wallace
29 Jun 2004 at 4:39am
Accompanied by my dear mother, an admitted follower of events such as the one at hand, I arrived at the courthouse early, at 6:45 a.m. Posted signs told us where to gather for Peterson trial courtroom seats, and upon reaching the designated area we saw several individuals already waiting, including one man who had bested our arrival time by one-hour and forty-five minutes.

Chatting with fellow early-risers on the Marshall street sidewalk, we came to understand the public seat allocation process. First, those interested had to line up to receive numbered lottery "tickets," handed out by court and Sheriff's department staff. After ticket distribution a lottery drawing would be held, and those whose numbers are called are then given courtroom passes valid for the day.

[to be continued]