“Juries are made up of human beings,” noted Judge Jon C. Blue. And like all human beings, they make mistakes.
But when “someone’s life is at stake,” as Steven Hayes’ attorney pointed out, there is no room for error – even when the life at stake is that of a convicted killer.
That philosophical discourse took place on Superior Court on Church Street — with real life-or-death consequences.
In Courtroom 6A there a jury is deciding whether to give the death penalty to Hayes. The jury on Oct. 5 found Hayes guilty of murdering Jennifer Hawke-Petit and her daughters, Hayley and Michaela. The sentencing phase of the trial is now in its final stages.
In this phase, those jury errors have been on public display.
Last Friday, juror Joanne Bruneau, while sitting in the jury box, muttered to another juror that the testimony of forensic psychiatrist, Eric Goldsmith, was “bull — — .” Goldsmith was providing the most intriguing evidence to date about Hayes’ state of mind at the time he committed the crimes against the Petit family. Bruneau obviously didn’t like so, however. Her comment was overheard by the court clerk, Edjah Jean-Louis. Bruneau was promptly dismissed from the jury.
On the same day, Jean-Louis intercepted a note on its way from a juror to a judicial marshal to whom the juror had taken a shine. It read “Sunday. 5 p.m. Side Street Grille.” The marshal was blameless, but transferred temporarily. The juror was embarrassed and appropriately chastised by the judge. Hayes’ attorneys were deeply troubled by the juror’s staggering lack of judgment and presumed lack of focus on the evidence. A request by the defense to excuse the juror was denied. In trying to prevent the further diminishing of his jury panel, Judge Blue explained to the wayward juro,r “We need you frankly.”
The question today is: Do we?
Blue foresaw the difficulty of keeping a jury of 12 intact for what was anticipated to be upwards of a six-month trial. He planned accordingly. But, despite impaneling twenty jurors (twelve regular, six alternates, and two back-ups), they immediately started dropping. Tuesday, defense attorneys mounted an effort to dispose of another.
When Bruneau was discharged from her duty, as requested by the defense, an alternate, “Juror 12,” was moved up the ranks. On Wednesday, Hayes public defender Thomas Ullmann and co-counsel Patrick Culligan moved to have Juror 12 removed. The Connecticut statute governing the sentencing procedures in capital felony prosecutions requires that “the jury which determined the defendant’s guilt” be the same jury that determines whether he lives or dies.
While Juror 12 heard all the evidence against Hayes, she did not participate in the deliberations that determined his guilt.
As he is frequently known to do, Blue quoted an ancient Greek philosopher, as well as a 1930s text spoofing judicial opinions, before admitting that the defense motion raised a “very tricky issue” and offered some “forceful arguments.”
Blue declined to dismiss the juror. If she were removed, a mistrial would result and, if his decision turned out to be wrong, the consequences would be onerous on many levels.
Instead, Blue presented the defense with two possible outcomes: If, after the verdict, the defense wants to renew its request to remove Juror 12 (presuming the verdict is a death sentence), Blue could set aside the verdict, hear the motion again, and then decide. If a higher court disagrees with his decision, it can reverse it without “catastrophe.”
The other option Blue offered Ullmann and Culligan was a jury of 11 instead of12. This is quite a concept for a society schooled in the symbolism of the number 12. Twelve months in a year, 12 hours on the clock, 12 days of Christmas, 12 tribes of Israel, 12 disciples, and 12 jurors. But neither the U.S. nor the Connecticut Constitutions mandates how many jurors are required in a criminal trial, even for a capital prosecution — and a 1970 U.S. Supreme Court ruling held that the number 12 is not an essential element for a trial by jury.
So does the defense really need the juror known coincidentally as number 12? Either way the jury that determined Hayes’ guilt will differ from the jury that decides his punishment through the addition or subtraction of a substituted voice. We know to err is human; juror misbehavior has now led to the thorniest legal issue of Hayes’ trial. Whatever the immediate resolution, it will likely be revisited on appeal in the years ahead.
Previous installments of the Petit Trial Court Diary:
• Day One: Deceptive Calm
• Day Two: It Was All About “The Girls”
• Day Three: Defense Strategy Emerges: Spread The Blame
• Day Four: Pieces Fall Into Place
• Day Five: Numbers Tell A Story
• Day Six: Suffering Takes Center Stage
• Day Seven: A Gagged Order
• Day Eight: A Quilt & A Puppet Theater Bring Home The Horror
• Day Nine: It’s About Specific Intent
• Day Ten: The Notes Told The Tale
• Day 11: To Save A Life, Lawyers Must Humanize Alleged Monster
• Days Twelve & Thirteen: A Life, In Context
• This Time Around, Petit Jurors Are Yawning, Chuckling
• Will “Coward” = Death?
