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easy one for you to make.”
Campbell is impressed. Although he’s certain that Armand wrote most of this and simply had Wilson memorize and practice it over and over again in the last two days, Wilson is doing an excellent job of delivery. He doubts Armand could have done any better.
Wilson appears ready to wrap it up. “In a few minutes, you’re going to be alone in that room,” pointing at the door to the jury deliberation area, “with a very important decision to make. Did the defendant, Tyree Johnson, sleep with Beth Ann Brooks knowing he was HIV-Positive? Did the defendant infect Beth Ann Brooks with his HIV, causing her to get AIDS? Did he in fact murder Beth Ann Brooks in a way that was more cruel, more drawn out, more painful than if he had taken a gun and shot her in the head?”
“Objection.” Campbell can’t let that one go. “Your Honor…”
The judge interrupts. “Mr. Wilson, tone it down.”
Wilson takes a second to regroup and then delivers his last plea. “Ladies and gentlemen, you have to do the right thing, not only to bring justice for Beth Ann Brooks and her family, but to send a message to all the other HIV-Positives out there around this country who think they can get away with having sex with whomever they want and let the chips fall where they may. I’m asking you to hold Tyree Johnson accountable for what he did to Beth Ann Brooks and tell the world that this must stop, here and now. I have every confidence, when you examine all the facts and rightfully assume the responsibility that has been placed on your shoulders, that you will find the defendant guilty of first-degree murder.”
Wilson looks at each juror one by one, pleased with his performance and fairly certain he had won their hearts and minds. When he has made eye