While British Columbia is throwing out serious court cases that have waited too long to come to trial — 73 cases so far this year including poaching of two endangered Roosevelt bull elk on Vancouver Island – in Los Angeles the estimated trial time for Dr. Conrad Murray charged with involuntary manslaughter in the death of Michael Jackson has been lopped from eight weeks to five by a judge who runs his court with the precision of a NASA launch.
Compared to O. J. Simpson’s circus under Judge Ito, Murray’s trial is calm, orderly, and moving well. Conducted by Los Angeles Superior Court Judge Michael E. Pastor, by the end of Day 5 the jury had heard from 16 witnesses.
Even jury selection was completed in a single day. Twelve jurors and six alternates were chosen from a pool of 160 candidates after all prospective jurors filled out a 32-page preliminary questionnaire. The judge set a time limit on how long lawyers could quiz each prospective juror.
Judge Pastor’s instructions to each witness are clear and concise:
“Sit back and relax. Answer loudly so all can hear your answers. Answer with Yes or No, if that’s called for, not slang such as Uh-huh or Nuh-uh which can be confused. Wait to hear the entire question before answering. Many times we think we know the question when it has not yet been fully asked, and we end up talking over each other.”
He begins his court day on time, calls for a fifteen minute break mid-morning and afternoon, with a 90 minute lunch break. He frequently checks his watch to make sure he is keeping to his schedule. Lawyers know they must show up prepared.
Apparently he has ironed out problems before this trial began, so that if one lawyer objects to another lawyer’s question, instead of a time-consuming wrangle before the judge’s bench, he calls out, “Overruled, 325, 350.” This must refer to a previous determination arrived at during the preliminary trial; he has spoken those numbers many times and always the argument ceases.
To pare witnesses’ replies to only a requisite Yes or No when that fully answers the question, he calls for more strikes than a militant union leader. An example was the case of the Cordon Bleu-trained personal chef. I believe the question put to her was, “Did Michael Jackson enjoy his children’s company?”
She tilted her head sideways and smiled. “Yes, Mr. Jackson had a very loving relationship with his children.”
Judge Pastor cut in like a cleaver. “The answer is Yes. Strike the rest.”
Any disturbances meet with the judge’s unmistakable disapproval. When a cell phone rang somewhere in the court room, in disgust the judge flung himself back in his executive chair. “Deputy sheriff,” he ordered, “please escort that person from the courtroom. And that phone is OURS!”
Smooth running of Pastor’s courtroom is achieved without high tech gadgets beyond an overhead projector. He made a point of mentioning their “low tech environment.”
Lawyers make notes on yellow pads with five cent pencils and ballpoints except the lead defence lawyer. He keeps handy a battery-powered Pulse pen that incorporates a microphone, records sound, and takes photos.
Once plugged into a computer the Pulse pen can print out any spoken dialogue it has recorded and instantly call up and play back whatever part of the proceedings he wishes.
An excuse many of us have for not sitting in on local trials is the dragging pace, droning questioning, and unprepared lawyers who often cancel court dates.
Judge Pastor is more entertaining than Judge Judy.
