“You have a so called “confession tape”. What you really have is Jeffrey saying what he had been instructed to say by two police officers that used certain tactics to make him say things he did not mean to say. Again I would have you use your own life’s circumstances. Have you ever said something like, ‘I’ll see you on Christmas,’ when the truth is you see that person on the Saturday before Christmas? Even if everyone knows what you mean, the fact is you are not seeing them on Christmas.”
“There are a lot of questions in this case that are not answered by the State, and as you will be advised by the judge later, you have to consider these options, and find a ruling beyond a reasonable doubt. Ladies and gentleman, I stand before you today and say, in this case there is more than reasonable doubt, and the doubt is if Jeffrey did commit any crimes at all.
“Thank you ladies and gentlemen, I am sure you will take my words with you into the deliberating room. I feel confident you will find Jeffrey, not guilty.”
Theodore Wilson II walked back to his table. He now wore a smile, which he beamed to Jeffrey Motter. He then turned and did the same for the jury, along with a slight nod of his head and a wink of his eye.
I was ready to take out the whole table. Just reach into my pant leg remove the six shot snub nose Smith and Wesson thirty eight revolver and pop, pop, pop. What arrogance, what out and out bullshit. How could he get away with saying what he did? Lies, he presented lies to the jury. This was not a court of law? This was a court of deceit.
Brent Clark stood up, walked across the floor to the podium, placed several papers on the podium, and then placed his hands on either side of the podium. He looked down at his papers then, with a tilt of his head; he looked up at the jury. He started slowly, precisely, with confidence in his voice and words.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have been practicing law for a number of years and I would just like to say, in rebuttal to Mr. Wilson, I would never assume or indicate I had an open and shut case. Every case has two sides. Your job as jurors is to determine what side produces a truthful story. To think you cannot lose are the thoughts of a fool. That is why we have you, our jury.”
“With that being said I feel we have given you the evidence and testimony that will bring you to the verdict of guilty. I would like to start with the fact that Tony Carver never, repeating never, changed his testimony of what was done to him by the defendant, Jeffrey Motter. The dates only changed as he remembered more of the numerous occasions. He remembered by looking at photographs of vacations, using the Internet to determine when movies came out, whatever would jog the memory of when. What, what occurred never changed.”
“He did not forget as years went by. He only suffered more as they did.”
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, we have been reminded over and over and yet over again, that the victim, Tony Carver’s father is a police officer. This is a fact, but after that fact their,” Clark said pointing towards defense counsel’s table, “their facts hold no water at all. Tony’s father didn’t orchestrate anything except to help his child through a terrible time of a legal system that sometimes does not fair well with victims.”
I wondered if Clark really believed what he was saying or was it all part of the legal game. As Clark spoke he was looking at the jury when he spoke of the legal system he had turned to look at me. As our eyes met his head slowly sank. But then it turned back up and he continued, “But I do believe it is still the best in the world. Changes yes, but the basic construction of it, solid.”
“We have two police officers hearing the sentence Jeffrey Motter says to his mother.
‘I molested Tony Carver,’ is what he said. Mr. Wilson would like to throw some confusion into that statement by claiming two police officers heard it. Again, this makes no sense. They are validating what was said. Both officers stated to you, under oath, exactly what they heard. Both heard the exact same words come out of Jeffrey Motter’s mouth. One officer said he would carry these words with him forever.”
“You have seen some of the pictures that were in Jeffrey Motter’s desk. In testimony you heard that there was hundreds of pictures plus thousands on his computer. The pictures on his computer were all of children in sexually explicit poses. Then there were numerous pictures presumably taken by Jeffrey Motter of young boys, several of these pictures were of a young boy, an acquaintance of Jeffrey Motter, nude with the boy in the state of arousal. These were pictures found in Jeffrey Motter’s desk, in Jeffrey Motter’s bedroom, with Jeffrey Motter standing within feet from where they were acquired. When asked who the boy was in the nude photograph, Jeffrey Motter gave the detectives the boy’s name. No question about it he knew the boy.”
“Counsel raises some question about the confession tape. You heard it, you heard both detectives state where, how and when the interview and confession occurred. We feel that the tape speaks for itself. There are no sounds of a struggle, no editing of the tape, no instigating or directing what should be said. Simple questions, simple answers.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Wilson asked you to look at ‘other options’, I say there are no options only truth. That’s what we are telling each and every one of you here today, the truth. Look at what was said by each and every witness. Look at how they answered the questions, their demeanor, their body language, their words, do they make sense. Do the statements hold with how a reasonable person would react?
Brent Clark walked back to his table, bent down and whispered to Gary Wagner, “Have I left anything out?”
Wagner replied, “Only that they should find him guilty.”
Wagner smiled up at Clark.
“The Judge will give you a set of instructions before you start deliberating on this matter. Listen to them, and then talk it over among yourselves. There are numerous counts here. The State feels we have presented you with enough evidence to find Jeffrey Motter guilty on all counts.” Clark walked over to Jeffrey Motter’s table. Pointed right at him, and said, “Do what Tony Carver set out to do himself, but now he needs your help, take Jeffrey Motter off our streets. Find him guilty of all counts.”
Stephanie reached over with her right hand and placed it on my right arm. “It’s over.” These were two simple words that had never meant so much.
The judge took over the talking giving the jury their instructions. After he was done we stood up and shook Brent Clark and Gary Wagner’s hands. They did a phenomenal job. After all the arguing and yelling it was over and they led us through it.
I walked out first, after saying to Stephanie I was going to the washroom. Stephanie, Tony and the rest of our group walked out with Clark and Wagner. There was also a woman from the victim assistance group who mainly spoke with Tony. She also was a big part of us staying focused, keeping the faith.
When I returned Stephanie looked at me then leaned into me and whispered, "Something strange happened. The Judge walked by and said we shouldn’t go too far.
What did that mean?”
“Could mean it’s going to be quick, but which way?” I answered. I was hoping it was guilty but you never can be sure of a jury.
We were escorted to the State Attorney’s Office and led to a small room for victims and their families to wait the outcome of trials. The room was no more than fifteen feet by twelve feet. It contained a small couch, two small sofa chairs, and three folding chairs leaning against the wall. There were also two small tables one with a lamp on it, the other had a twelve-inch television. There were windows with a view of the parking lot.
As we moved around the room trying to locate a seat we were asked if we needed anything. “A finding of guilty would be nice,” I answered.
Stephanie answered, “No, thank you.” She then turned to look at me. I shrugged my shoulder slightly. Just kidding I thought. But I wasn’t. I wanted the guilty plea more than I wanted air in my lungs.
Tony walked over to the window and asked, “Dad, you work here, how long can this take?”
Thinking he won’t l
ike my answer I broaden it a little. “You can never tell. Some go quick, some last for a fairly long time.”
“I mean how long have you ever stayed for a trial like this?”
“I have been here till after midnight.” I knew he did not want to hear that, but it was the truth.
“If they come to a verdict quickly, what does that usually mean?”
I didn’t really want to get into this, as you never could tell with juries. Sure you could take your best shot of what they were thinking but as soon as you think you have them figured out…bam, something hits you from left field.
“Well, it’s…”
A knock on the door, it was Brent Clark, “They have a verdict.”
“How’s that possible?” Stephanie asked, “How long has it been?”
“Under forty minutes,” Clark said. “Let’s go, we can talk on the way.”
Clark led the way at a brisk pace. Every now and then he would look behind the make sure we were all keeping up. When we reached the elevator and entered it was dead quiet, not a word spoken.
Tony finally spoke up, “What could this mean?”
Clark answered him in a very slow and meaningful calm, “Call me superstitious but I never predict a jury. I can tell you this Tony; I feel we put forth the best case we could have. Almost everything we wanted to happen did happen. But we will have all the answers before long.”
We entered the courtroom before anyone else was in there. We went back to “our” seats on the bench. I heard a movement in the back; some reporters who had been following the story were coming in. A second look found Motter and his parents walking through the door.
The courtroom was filling up. Some of the people I knew. There was family of Jeffrey Motter and friends and family of ours. There were media and police officers. Some of the police officers had been involved in the case, some not. Some I knew some I did not know.
The States Attorneys sat at their table; Motter and his attorneys sat at their table. The clerk and stenographer sat at their seats. The Judge was just being seated at the bench. There were several deputies positioned around the room, more than usual I noticed.
Did they know if things didn’t work out right it would then be in my hands? Had I said something to alert them? I noticed just to my left stood the chief of my department. His attention was directed towards the front of the room. The jury was walking in.
The jury walked in and sat in the jury box. I was looking for something, for anything any of them would do as a clue to what was about to take place. But there was nothing. They all sat with their heads straight ahead. What was going on?
I placed Stephanie’s hand inside of mine. We both squeezed at the same time. I could not bring myself to look at her. As much as I did not want to I knew I was starting to lose it.
I moved my head from side to side, up and down, and in circles to try and take the tension out of it. It wasn’t working. I had to stay composed for everyone there. They were counting on me.
The Judge asked the jury, “Have you reached a verdict?”
“We have Your Honor,” the chairman of the jury answered.
“Deputy, bring the verdicts to me,” the Judge said.
The deputy retrieved the verdicts and walked them to the Judge. Since there had been fourteen counts against Jeffrey Motter, the Judge took a few minutes to view all the documents.
He then handed all the verdicts to the clerk and told her to read the verdicts. My legs were both bouncing around like they thought I was running a fifty-yard dash. Sweat was forming on my brow as my mouth had gone dry.
As the clerk started reading the verdict I stopped breathing. “For the charge of placing Jeffrey Motter’s mouth on Tony Carver’s penis on or about the night of July 4th 1991 we the jury find Jeffrey Motter guilty of the charge.”
I sucked in a mouthful of air, a gasp came out. What a relief, Tony had done it. The jury had believed Tony and not what the defense tried to sell. But it wasn’t over the clerk continued reading the verdicts. The same charge was read over and over. I could not help but to think this is what happened to Tony. And it happened over and over. After every charge I heard the word guilty. But I could not stand to hear it any more. I looked up towards Stephanie, my eyes red and wet with tears. “I have to get out,” I said as I stood up and proceeded towards the exit.
Everything slowed down as if in a dream. I looked to my left then towards the table where Jeffrey Motter sat. I could only see the side of his head but enough of it to infuriate me. I bent over and felt the gun attached to my ankle. I sat up again focusing on Motter. From deep inside of me a voice said, “No, no, no, do not do it.” This was when it went back to real time.
I stood up and proceeded to my left. In doing so tripped over people seated next to me. Some lady had a purse as big as a suitcase that was in my way. Somehow I was able to maneuver myself over it. Just as I arrived at the end of the isle the chief of the courthouse grabbed me and pushed me through the exit doors. Next thing I knew I was back in the little room I had spent so much time in over the last few days.
I looked at the chief, “What are you doing?” I asked.
“I thought you were going after him.” He was now looking at me and saw my breathing was abnormal. “Slow down. Breath…slow…take a deep breath.”
I was trying but it was hard to contain all the emotions I had felt over the last many years. “Would you like me to get Corporal Monroe up here?”
“Yes.”
He was on his cell phone when I heard him say, “Don’t make this a big deal, but I want you to immediately come to courtroom 5005. Don’t say anything to anyone just get here.” He then hung up his phone.
I was seated in a chair with the chief’s hand on my shoulder when Corporal Jillian Monroe came through the door. She must have run the whole way as she was breathing as bad as I was.
I stood up and she opened her arms to me and I put my head on her shoulder. “It’s over,” I said.
“How’s everyone else?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Okay, I think. I had to get out.”
Within a matter of minutes Stephanie was entering the room. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine. I couldn’t stay. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a problem, just we were all concerned. My mom asked if I had seen the look in your eyes, you were pretty frightening.”
“Well the chief must have seen it too because he put the halt to where ever he thought
I was going.”
After a small round of hugs I asked, “What now?”
“We want to celebrate. Then go home where Douglas has some Champaign he brought back from France.”
I said, “I don’t drink Champaign.”
Stephanie said, “You do tonight.”
“Great.”
Just then another friend of mine walked through the door; he was seated to my left as I left the courtroom. “Hey, sorry the way I stumbled over you as I went pass,” I said as he stepped into the room.
“I thought you were going after him,” he replied.
“Yeah, so did my Chief.”
“Do you know the difference between us, me and your Chief,” he said with a slight smile upon his lips, “he stopped you.”
Not knowing exactly what to say I just said, “Thanks.” I knew what he meant.
I then said to everyone standing in the room, “Tonight is for celebration, any and all can join us.”
I looked at Stephanie and said, “Let’s go, we have Champaign waiting.”
When we finally arrived home the music was turned on and a celebration as no other had started. We all spoke of old times, happy times. As the hours passed I realized this was to be one of our happiest times.
When everyone had left and it was just Stephanie, Douglas, Tony, and I. Douglas said,
“How about that Champaign?”
“Pop it open,” Tony said.
We toasted to many things that night. We all went to bed wit
h good thoughts and sugar plum fairies dancing in our heads. Some of it due to the Champaign, but the good thoughts came from our day in court, really Tony’s day in court.
As Stephanie’s eyes closed for the last time that night my last thought was, please God let the sentence fit the crime.
***
The sentencing date was sixty days from the finding of guilty. Tony and I were asked to write victim impact statements. We both worked on them for quite some time. We wanted them to convey our feelings without sounding unreasonable.
He had been through so much. I could never imagine how scared he must have been all those times with Motter. What he thought of me for bringing Motter into our home, making him Tony’s Godfather. So many different signals, how did he keep it together? Finally telling us what had occurred and then having to go through the court system. Nothing, not anything I can think of in this world, could be worse than that.
But I also wanted to communicate that the suffering and pain did not stop at Tony. Our whole family suffered in many different ways. But for me, the emotional impact was several tiers.
How could I have brought this person into our lives? Why could I not see what was happening, the warning signs? Looking back they were there. I knew the law system, or at least I thought I did, how come I could not protect Tony from it. Why could I not keep Motter locked up all these years? So many things were troubling me about my lack of control of the situation.
I hoped I could get it down on paper so the States Attorney could read it. I was asked if I wanted to read the impact letter but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to do it. I sat down at the computer several times to write my feelings down but I could not. I would get too emotional.
Finally I just said to myself, “You have to do this, and you have to do it now.” I began writing and once I started it just flowed. It wasn’t grammatically correct but it was how I felt, what I had done and what I was still going through.
It took about a week to have it say what I wanted it to say. I wanted to sound intelligent but not lose the emotion. I worked very hard on how and what I said.
Tony had brought me his impact letter to read. He also was concerned something would not sound proper when read by someone else. I took it from him saying I would read it later. When he left the room I read it.