A client of mine and her sister lived and raised their families in apartments next door to each other on the east side of Charleston. The sister’s daughter got involved in an abusive relationship and was forced to call 911 when she was violently assaulted by her boyfriend. The police arrested the boyfriend and charged him with Criminal Domestic Violence. The daughter moved back home to live with her mother while he was incarcerated on a Twenty-five Thousand dollar bond conditioned on him having no contact with the daughter.
It didn’t take long for the boyfriend to raise the ten percent cash needed to bond out and the very first thing he did upon release was go over to the sister’s house where the daughter was staying to demand that she drop the charges. My client’s son happened to be visiting next door when the boyfriend showed up demanding to talk to his girlfriend. My client’s son walked over to to his aunt’s apartment to remind the boyfriend he wasn’t allowed to be there but the boyfriend told him to mind his own fucking business. When my client’s son insisted the boyfriend had to leave, the boyfriend came at him aggressively apparently thinking beating him up would be as easy as his girlfriend. My client’s son beat the livin’ shit out of him. No one called the cops but bad blood remained between the boyfriend and son.
Several months later their paths crossed again in a night club. My client’s son was headed to the bathroom when he walked by the boyfriend and his homies standing by the bar. The son just kept on walking but the boyfriend and his friends followed him down the hallway to the restrooms. My client’s son stopped, turned around, and withdrew a small 25 caliber ACP, automatic Colt pistol, from his jacket pocket just as he was about to be jumped from behind. Upon seeing the gun, the boyfriend’s friends and he about climbed over each other turning around to run the other way. The son fired one shot in the commotion that just happened to hit the boyfriend in his ass.
My client’s son had the good sense not to run away or make any incriminating statements when he was arrested and charged with Assault and Battery with Intent to Kill, a felony carrying 20 years. He became my client, pled not guilty, and demanded trial by jury beginning the agonizingly long wait to get one. Meanwhile the boyfriend’s CDV charge languished because he had become a cooperating witness for the prosecution.
Now, you might think my new client he had a rock-solid defense but prior to 2024 it was illegal for anybody to carry a concealed weapon without a permit in South Carolina and shooting somebody in the back who’s trying to get away from you undercuts the requirement of imminent threat required for self-defense in the eyes of the law. Which brings us to the only real defense in a murder or attempted murder case that the guy who got shot was a son of bitch and my client was the perfect person to shoot him. I felt pretty good going into the trial.
Most people don’t realize but in the criminal courts there are two kinds of judges. There are plea judges who will accept plea bargains and aren’t opposed to probationary sentences that defendants will line up to plead before. And there are trial judges that defendants avoid like the plague. The Honorable Kristi Harrington was the judge for the trial and she, as a former prosecutor, definitely was a trial judge. This would be my first trial appearing before her.
Things got off to a rocky start with the crime scene investigator. I’ve written before about the nasty habit of small caliber bullets to ricochet around inside bodies they enter. Who knew the buttock was so full of arteries? Apparently the bullet in this case shredded the superior gluteal artery resulting in acopious quantity of blood being sprayed all over the hallway to the bathroom. The jurors’ gasps when shown the pictures were not a good sign. I did my best highlighting it was only one shot from a small caliber pistol but the damage to my self defense defense had been done.
The medical examiner’s and investigating officer’s testimony was like a tennis match with volleys going back and forth and neither side gaining much of an advantage. Then the prosecutor called the boyfriend victim and things started to heat up. I began my proof the boyfriend was a son of a bitch but Judge Harrington saw where I was headed and cut me off. I was prevented from getting into the details of him being charged with CDV because he hadn’t been convicted and was presumed innocent. Likewise, I was prevented from even mentioning the boyfriend’s friends had pending Trafficking Crack cocaine charges for the same reason. I wasn’t making much headway on my defense but, meanwhile, the boyfriend was allowed to run his mouth unrestrained. I jumped up and strenuously objected when he testified my client shot him with his gun held sideways “gansta style.” Judge Harrington quickly overruled my objection and, I shouldn’t have, but muttered under my breath loud enough for everyone to hear, “Great, I can’t say his friends are crack cocaine dealers but he can call my client a ganster.”
Judge Harrington turned beet red and demanded to know what I’d said. I said I had excepted to her ruling my client could be called a gangster in front of the jury but, she knew better, and threatened me with contempt for any similar comments. I could see the jury taking it all in but couldn’t read their reaction.
Even restricted I was able to paint the picture of the bad blood between the boyfriend and my client a picture I completely filled in when I called my client to the stand. Now, normally, calling a defendant to testify is not advisable for a myriad of reasons not applicable in a self-defense case. My client had no prior record, was gainfully employed, and had to testify. The only hurdle he had to overcome was his carrying a gun to the nightclub and he forthrightly testified, thank God, he brought it because he knew the boyfriend’s reputation for violence.
His testimony carried the day and the jury returned a not guilty verdict. One of the jurors came up to me after the trial to tell me a couple of jurors were upset the judge had to dress me down during the trial but he told them a lawyer not being fussed at by the judge during a trial isn’t doing their job. In fairness to Judge Harrington, I think by the end of the trial she had stopped being so prosecution-oriented and, in the end, seemed satisfied with the verdict. It wouldn’t be the last case I tried before Judge Harrington and I always found I earned a judge’s respect when I fought hard for my clients, especially when I won. I tried my last murder case in front of her and we got along just fine, but I’ll write about that story another day.
trialadvocacy.blog 