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Aug 6, 2019

2. What is Justice? (Finale, A Cry For Justice)

A Few Months Later, The Day of The People of New Jersey v. Frank Castle

****

“Funny seeing you and the rest of the gang here, Chuckles.”

“Jason. You’re looking well.”

A tense silence manifests itself between the factions of the leather clad couple of Jason Todd and Komand’r and the Titans dressed in their civilian attire.

“Sister.”

“Kori. I see Victor’s holorings still have their uses. But, tan’s a bad tone on you, sister dear.”

“Why you-“ Kori lunges at her sister but is held back by Victor.

“OK,” Said Cyborg, “this is more awkward than I thought it would be. I’m taking Kori into the court room, gonna find us some seats. Who’d a thought this trial would’ve attracted so much attention?”

He heaves the Tamaranean over his shoulder as he walks through the door. She’s spouting off her objections to her treatment in Tamaranean, as she pounds her fists Victor’s back.

“I’m gonna join Cy- I mean Vic. You guys look like you got some stuff to catch up on.” Said a fair skinned, blonde-haired, green-eyed Changeling. “See you guy in court!” He said as waived off the others, following Cyborg.

Raven shrugs her shoulders at the people remaining. “Wait for me Gar.” She intones, coming up the rear.

“Komi,” says Nightwing, “was that really necessary?”

Blackfire gives him a look of mock innocence, “What? I’m telling the truth.”

“Blackfire,” said Jason, “let me talk with Dick alone. Find us a spot will you, cutie?”

“Fine, Jay. I’ve got you.” She pecks him on the cheek, as she makes her way into the court room to find her and Jason some seats.

“You and Blackfire. A part of me may have saw that coming-“

“Grayson,” interrupts Jason. “Is Bruce here?”

“Yeah. Alfred’s here. Babs is here. Tim’s here. Even poor Harley is here. Everyone is here. Are you planning on saying hi to anyone?”

“I’ve said all needed to him or anyone a long time ago.”

At the implication of Jason’s words, Dick sighs and says, “He never would’ve done it. None of us would’ve. For what it’s worth, he’s sorry and he misses you. And despite our recent history, I miss you too. Your family-“

“Stow it, Dick. The fact that it took some cop to do what needs to be done tells me what kind of family I’ve got. Give my love to Babs. Enjoy the trial.” Said Jason, as started to make his way into the court room.

“Wait. Why did you bail out Frank Castle?” Asked Dick.

“Honestly? I wanted to meet the man ballsy enough to properly avenge his family.”

****

“All rise!” Commanded the bailiff as the judge made his way to the bench.

The older, bald, caucasian judge, clad in the dark robes sits and bangs his gavel getting the attention of the full court as everyone present takes their seat.

He creases his brow, as if he’s making eye contact with everyone in the court.

“I know we have a lot of people here today, but I’d like to remind everyone here today we are in a court of law this day. A man is being tried for his alleged crimes and recommend all out bursts be keep to a minimum. With that being said, let’s get started with our opening statements.” The judge motions to his left, “Prosecutor.”

The prosecutor stands upon being beckoned by the judge. He’s small slip of man dressed in a cheap beige suit with an even cheaper haircut. He smiles condescendingly at Frank, practically assured of a conviction as he begins his opening statement.

“What is justice? We in the DA’s office like to define it as set system of right and wrong. Of showing those who break laws there are set consequences for what you do. Today we are here to prosecute Frank Castle for the crime of murder of the Joker in the first degree. We will prove that he did so maliciously and with no regard for our system of justice. And I would like to remind the court that the people of New Jersey are seeking the maximum conviction of life without the possibility of parole.”

A hush goes over the court as the mousy prosecutor finished his opening statement.

The hush turns into murmur as they seemingly wait for something to happen.

The judge bangs his gavel once more to bring the hush back to the court room.

“Mr. Castle, I understand you’ve waived your right to attorney. As a result of that it’s up to you to state the basis of your defense or to counter point anything said by the prosecution in your opening statement.”

Being addressed, Castle rises from his seat and says gruffly, “I decline to make an opening statement, your honor.”

A murmur goes over those present in the court and the judge bangs his gavel again to gain control of the court.

The prosecutor’s sneer returns to his face.

The judge takes a moment to take in his appearance.

Castle’s dressed in a black suit coat with matching pants and tie, with a white shirt underneath the coat. The whole ensemble looks like it’s seen better days, as littered with wrinkles and is poorly creased. There’s a look in defeat his eyes and looks like her hasn’t shaved in a while.

He’s a man whose already been beaten, dressed for a funeral for the fight of his life, thinks the judge.

“Both of you, please approach.” Commands the judge, addressing Castle and the prosecutor.

“Mr. Castle,” said the judge in a low voice, “how prepared are you for your defense?”

“I just thought to show up, your honor. Everything else is formality at this point.” Responded Frank.

“Mr. Castle, I’m telling you this for your own good, but do you recognize without a proper defense you maybe damning yourself to a guilty verdict and consequently to whatever fresh hell I’d imagine a waits a police officer in Blackgate. Yes, Mr. Castle, recognize that my power as a judge won’t save a violent offender from a super max prison, first offense or not.”

“Whatever happens, I’m consigned to the worst of what may come to be.” Said Frank.

“Then why show up at all? Your absence today would’ve defaulted a guilty verdict.”

Frank shrugs his shoulders, “Then that would’ve cost the guy that bailed me out a half a million dollars. I couldn’t in good conscience let him lose that kind of money on my say so.”

The prosecutor attempts to contain his laughs, as the judge shoots him a look of annoyance at his outburst. “You will respect this courtroom, prosecutor.”

“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” he said as he tried to stow his laughs. “This going to be my easiest conviction yet.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, counselor.” Said Castle.

The prosecutor sneers and says, “Unless you know something I don’t, I expect a guilty verdict in less than a few hours, Castle.”

“Enough,” interjects the judge, “let’s get this case underway.” He said, dismissing them.

The judge bangs the gavel again to bring the noise of court down that came up as he was addressing the prosecution and the defense.

“Prosecution, your first witness.”

****

The prosecution had gone through about half a dozen or so witnesses of the police and EMTs that were on the scene of murder. Most testimonies were very brief and consistent outlining what happened that night a few months ago.

To no surprise to the judge and the prosecutor, Castle, acting as his own defense, had opted not to question one witness.

The prosecution had just dismissed the most recent witness, the officer who had been headbutted by The Joker.

No one even bothered to check if Castle had any questions for him, taking ques from earlier.

“The State of New Jersey would like to call Commissioner Gordon to the stand.” Said the prosecutor.

Gordon stands from his seat among the spectators. He makes his way to the stand, dressed in his signature tan overcoat, off white dress shirt with a black tie, light brown pants and black shoes.

He takes a seat on the stand and is sworn in as the prosecutor waits, sneer still on his face.

“May the witness state his name for the record,” said the prosecutor.

“James Gordon,” was the response.

“And what is your profession, Mr. Gordon?”

“I’m the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department.”

“Do you recognize that man over there?” Said the prosecutor, pointing at Frank Castle.

“Yes, that’s officer-“ Gordon stops himself, running his hand through his white hair in frustration. “Frank Castle.”

“Do you know what Mr. Castle’s vocation was until recently?”

Gordon hesitates for a moment, glaring at the prosecutor, his mouth forming a grim line. “He was an officer under my command in the city’s police department.”

“Do you know what Mr. Castle is accused of?”

“Yes.”

“And can you state what Mr. Castle is he accused of, Commissioner?”

“Murder in the first degree. He’s accused of killing The Joker.”

“And you were there on the night in question, correct?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Well, from what you saw can you tell me what happened?”

“It happened pretty fast. I was speaking with Batman, then I heard one shot and a few officers fingered Castle as the shooter pretty quickly. Joker was already down with one in his chest before I could get eyes on the situation. Castle then fired 3 more shots into The Joker, another to his chest, one to his throat, and the last one to the head, before any officers could get to him. About 4 or 5 officers’ dog-piled him before he can shoot another round off, and that scuffle didn’t last long. He gave as soon as he was tackled.”

“So, you saw him kill the victim?” Asked the prosecutor.

“Yes.”

“Was Frank Castle within his right to execute the victim the way he did? Within his duty as sworn officer of the law?”

"I speak from someone whose family was a victim of the Joker, hell I was a victim of him my damn self. What Officer Castle did, who’s to say it was wrong? Really? I mean after what he did to my girl Barbara, I can't say I didn't think about pulling the trigger myself."

“That’s interesting Commissioner, I had no idea that the police department condones the cold-blooded execution of detained criminals.“

“I didn’t say that!” Interrupts Gordon.

“Well it’s no surprise. You condoned the actions of the Bat-family in our city for years, and they done nothing to stave off the rising crime and supervillains that plague our fair city.” Said the prosecutor, as he raised his voice. “Why not execute them all? It’s only the natural progression of things under your command, right commissioner?”

“No that’s not what I’m saying!”

“Then answer my question Commissioner Gordon; was Frank Castle within his right or his civic duty as an officer of the law to execute the victim?”

“No.” Said Gordon, defeatedly.

“Nothing further.” Said the prosecutor, as he makes his way back to his seat.

“Does Mr. Castle have anything for the commissioner?” Asked the judge.

Frank stood from his seat, scratching his unshaven scruff. “How’s Babs?” Asked the former police officer.

The court erupted into a roar at the question.

“ORDER! ORDER!” Yelled the judge as he banged his gavel. “Mr. Castle, the court room isn’t the social hour. Do you have questions to defend yourself, to rebuttal anything the prosecution established to the court?”

“No, your honor.” Said Castle simply.

“Thank you for your testimony here today, commissioner,” Said the judge.

“The prosecution would like to call one last witness to the stand, Frank Castle.” Said the prosecution.

The court erupted once more.

The judge banged his gavel again to quiet down the court.

Castle makes his way to the stand.

He’s then sworn in.

“Can you state your name for the record.” Said the prosecutor, as he approached the stand.

“Frank Castle.”

“What is your vocation?”

“Former officer of Gotham’s police force.”

“Former,” repeats the prosecutor. “And can you tell the court today what caused you to lose that position, which coincides with what your accused of today.” Said the prosecutor, emphasizing the word, ‘accused.’

“You read the reports and statements, councilor. You tell me.”

“Answer the question, Mr. Castle,” commands the judge.

“Shooting and killing the Joker.”

The prosecutor clicks his teeth, as if processing what was just stated.

He walks back to his table, producing a picture.

The councilor walks back to stand showing a picture to Castle.

“Do you recognize this man, Mr. Castle?”

“I do.” Said Castle simply, as the prosecutor showed the picture to the court.

“That is James Irons, an alleged associate of the Falcone crime family.”

“And what is your history with, Mr. Irons?” Asked the lawyer.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh?” Said the prosecutor, facetiously. He goes back to the table grabbing several pieces of paper stapled together. “In my hand I have a formal complaint filed with the Gotham City police department against Mr. Castle on behalf of Mr. Irons. The complaint being brutality.” He hands it off to the jury, for them to verify it for themselves.

“And what is the point of this?” Asks Castle.

“I believe the phrase your looking for is, ‘objection, on the grounds of relevance.’” Said the prosecutor, arrogantly.

“Watch your tone counselor, but Mr. Castle does have a point. To what relevance is this to the court?” Said the judge.

“I’m only trying to establish to the court a history of Mr. Castle being less than kind to detained suspects. A history that started only after his family was allegedly killed by The Joker.” Said the prosecutor.

“You son of bitch-“ Frank growls as he lunges at the prosecutor and another ruckus stir occurs as he does.

The judge bangs his gavel, to regain control of the court. And the bailiffs are able to restrain Frank before he can get to the prosecution.

“Order! Mr. Castle, you are to control yourself, councilor, please do your best not to badger the witness, or I will hold you both in contempt.”

The prosecutor obviously frazzled by having Castle jump at him, straightens himself out. “As I was saying I’m simply trying to establish to the court a history of misconduct towards already arrested suspects, a history that started,” the prosecutor hesitates as Castle scowls at him, “after the untimely death of his family. As a matter of fact, I have 5 or 6 similar complaints against Mr. Castle over the last few years. So, what were those brutality cases, Mr. Castle? Working up your nerve to kill? Some measure of revenge until you found your desired prey?”

Frank sighs, then goes to answer. “If you saw what Irons did to his wife, you would’ve done the same thing. As far as the others,” Frank paused, a far away look in his eyes, “I don’t know. Things have been difficult since my family was killed.”

“That does not excuse an officer assaulting a person that’s already been arrested. It certainly doesn’t excuse you killing a detained suspect in cold blood.” Responded the prosecutor, he starts to walk back to his table, apparently finished questioning.

“Cold blood,” laughs Frank. “That was the hardest decision I’ve made since they died.”

“What?” Said the prosecutor.

“You’ve been needling witnesses all day to paint as some kind of monster. And all day I’ve listened to you corner my former colleagues and commanding officers to confirm it so. Who am I to deny what you want?” Said Frank sarcastically. “Killing the Joker wasn’t something that came to me easy. I thought about it for a long while. When I finally decided to go through with it, I waited years for my opportunity. Waited for something, anything where I can come across that piece of shit. A transport detail, a detail guarding a door as he’s being interrogated. Literally anything. My opportunity came that night a few months ago. The city’s resident so-called hero had just subdued The Joker and all nearby cars were ordered to report to scene. I happened to be assigned to guard him with another officer while we waited for a high-security bus to come cart him off. I lucked that officer I was pared with was very antagonistic and he managed to get himself hurt leaving me all alone with the Joker. I was unsure now that the time had come to actually go through with it. When I questioned him why he attacked the civic center, his answer steeled my resolve. My only regret is that I didn’t get to empty my entire clip into the son of a bitch. Is that what you wanted counselor?”

“That’s it,” replied the prosecutor simply. “Nothing further.”

“I, um,” said the judge. “The jury maybe excused so they may deliberate.”

****

The court reconvened after only 30 minutes of deliberation.

The judge once again bangs his gavel to quiet the court once more.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” The judge addressed the foreman.

“We have reached a unanimous verdict, your honor.” Said the foreman.

He unfolds the piece of, containing said decision.

“We, the jury, find Frank Castle on the charge of first-degree murder, not guilty.”

At the rendered verdict, the court erupts more riotous than before.

The prosecutor is beside himself at the decision.

He’s yelling and ranted animated in his position at the court, mutterings of ‘mistrial’ and damnings of fifth amendment rights.

The judge is just as animated, banging his gavel attempting to regain control of the court room once more.

“Order! Goddamnit! I will clear this courtroom! Order! Order!” Yells the judge.

The court begins to simmer down at his threat. He chuckles and goes on to say, “Not guilty. Huh. Oh, well. The State of New Jersey would like to thank the jury for their service today.” He then turns his attention to Castle. “So much could be said to you, Mr. Castle. You avoided the obvious despite the overwhelming evidence against the contrary.”

“I’m just as surprised as you, your honor.” Replied Frank.

“Indeed. Mr. Castle, I wish I can say justice, as I understand it as an officer of court, was dispensed. Had it been so, you probably never would’ve been in front of me in this capacity. Commissioner Gordon’s baby girl wouldn’t be in a wheelchair. You would still come home to your family every night. Hell, that can be said of countless families across this city of ours, cause The Joker would’ve been locked away for a long, long time. But it hasn’t. Furthermore, I wish I could pat you on the back for a job well done. I wish I can tell you that-a-boy. I wish I could tell you your wife and children could rest easy now that that piece of shit is off the streets. But again, because of my station I can’t officially. Mr. Castle, the jury has given you your life back. Congratulations. Case dismissed,” he said, banging his gavel.

****

It had been a fight out the court room, as more than a few reporters had managed to find a seat during his case. He had to fight even harder on the courtroom steps, as there were reporters from every newspaper and news station trying to get a quote for this story.

Showing he still had allies in the police station, Commissioner Gordon and few other officers had formed a makeshift human barrier around Castle as they pushed their way though the throngs of journalists.

As they make their way to the parking deck, a well-built clean-shaven, red-haired man in a navy-blue suit is waiting for them. He’s standing by the rear door of limousine. Upon closer inspection, it can be seen that the gentleman actually is dressed in a military officer’s uniform.

The man then makes his own way toward Frank Castle and his escorts.

“I can take him from here, boys.” Said the man.

“Mind telling us who you are.” Said Gordon.

“Captain Rick Flag, United States military. No need to be so defensive,” said Frank, defusing the tension between the police officer’s and the man. “I served with him in the marines. He stayed with military, I decided to go into law enforcement.”

“If you say so Frank. Listen, if you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me.” Said Gordon, extending his hand to Frank.

“Thanks, Commissioner,” replied Castle shaking hands with Gordon.

The officers and Gordon leave Flag and Castle alone to catch up. “By the way, its Colonel these days, Frank,” said Colonel Rick Flag, extending a hand to greet his old comrade.

Castle scoffs at the Colonel, “Look at you. So, what do want, Rick?”

“I’ve got someone who wants to talk to you. I know with, recent developments you’ve found yourself with a lot of time on your hands, old friend. She’s in the limo, follow me.”

Flag leads Frank to the limo. Upon reaching it, he opens the door, beckoning him to enter.

Frank passes the threshold, fixing himself into a plush leather seat as Flag closes the door.

Sitting across from him is a heavy seat African American woman.

She’s sloshing ice around in quarter filled glass, with an amber liquid inside, alcohol presumably. She’s dressed in a blue suit jacket and pencil skirt. Her hair is incredibly short, styled in a mini afro. Her dark-brown eyes bare a seriousness mirrored in the expression on her face.

“Mr. Castle,” she said, “what do you know about Task Force X?”

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