Chapter 15

Randall Howard strode into the courtroom purposefully. He stopped beside the defendant's table, glanced at the bandage across Mayfield's face and the bruising around the kid's eyes. His face broke out into a wide smile. He didn't acknowledge anyone else in the courtroom before he took the stand to be sworn in.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Howard," Allyson said genially as she stood from the table. She introduced herself.

"Please state your full name, your age and your occupation for the record," she said.

"My name is Randall Lysander Howard," he said confidently. "I am 25 years old. I am a student at the University of Cincinnati and I am a sergeant in the United States Marine Corps Reserves, Ma'am."

Allyson nodded.

"Were you on active duty in the Marine Corps?" Allyson queried.

"Yes, Ma'am," Howard said. "I am an honorably discharged combat veteran with three tours in Afghanistan, Ma'am. I was discharged in June and joined the Reserves."

"Thank you for your service, Sgt. Howard," Allyson said politely. "Would you tell the court your Military Occupation Specialty or MOS?"

"Infantry, Ma'am," Howard said with a grin. "I was a ground-pounder."

"Did your times in a combat zone make you hyper-vigilant about your surroundings?" Allyson asked.

"Objection, Your Honor," Green said, rising to his feet. "While this is fascinating, it is immaterial to our purposes here."

The judge looked to Allyson for an explanation of the line of questioning.

"On the contrary, Your Honor," Allyson said. "Sgt. Howard's state of mind is entirely the question here. My questions are designed to elicit testimony about how events transpired as they did at the bar called Rendezvous on Saturday, October 21st."

"I'm going to allow the questioning," the judge decided. "But please get to the point quickly."

"Absolutely, Your Honor," Allyson replied. "Sgt. Howard, would you like for me to repeat the question?"

"No, thank you, Ma'am," Howard said. "My answer is yes. My time in a war zone has made me highly vigilant about my surroundings. I often notice things that others might miss and I find myself constantly looking behind me, either by turning my head or in a mirror if one is nearby. I'm thankful for my vigilance in this case, but I believe the outcome would have been the same whether I noticed the defendant trying to attack or not."

"Did you notice the gentleman in the second row on this side of the courtroom last Saturday?" Allyson asked.

"Absolutely," Howard replied. "He's a little hard to miss, given his size. But I also noticed he was doing his level best to remain hidden from view. I suspected he was either a liquor control agent or a member of some other police organization."

"So you knew he was a cop?" Allyson asked.

"I can't say that I knew it for certain," Howard admitted. "But I strongly suspect it. My other consideration was that he was a member of the Cincinnati Bengals football team who wished to remain unnoticed. But the Bengals were in St. Louis last Sunday so I discounted that assumption."

"Did he introduce himself to you?" Allyson asked, taking for granted that Howard knew she was still talking about Bryant.

"No, Ma'am," Howard replied. "I do not believe I have ever exchanged a single word with the gentleman."

"Did you see him speak to anyone else?" Allyson posed.

"I will admit that I discounted him as a potential threat almost immediately," Howard answered. "So I paid him little heed. But the few times I did glance in his direction, I didn't see him speak to anyone."

"Did he, perhaps, relay a message to you in another fashion?" Allyson asked.

"I don't follow, Ma'am," Howard admitted.

"Let me rephrase the question, Sgt. Howard," Allyson said with a smile. "Did the gentleman in the second row ask anyone else at the bar to speak to you or give you a written message on his behalf?"

"Oh," Howard said. "No. Well, if he did, I sure didn't get it. I can't speak to his actions but I can say categorically that I did not receive a message from him or from anyone else at the bar that night."

"What is your course of study at the University of Cincinnati," Allyson asked after she checked a box beside her list of questions.

The abrupt change caught Howard by surprise for a moment.

"Ma'am?" he asked before he caught the shift. "I'm studying engineering. I had enough of blowing things up while I was in Afghanistan. I want to learn to build new things instead of destroying old things."

"Very worthwhile, Sgt. Howard," Allyson said. "Do you take any criminal justice courses?"

"Uh, no, Ma'am," Howard said. "I'm only in my first semester. I served seven years in the Marines. Right now, I'm taking mostly general requirements. My liberal arts requirement this semester is sociology."

"So you are not now nor have you ever been affiliated with a police organization?" Allyson asked.

"No, Ma'am," Howard said. "Uh, may I be frank, Ma'am?"

"Sgt. Howard, I want you to be nothing but candid with this court," Allyson replied.

"I'm from Detroit, Ma'am," Howard said. "I was a screw-up my whole life. The reason I went into the Marine Corps when I was 18 was because I didn't have a choice. It was part of diversionary program set up by a juvenile court judge. I was arrested, I don't know the number, but let's just say I was arrested a bunch when I was a kid. My arrests ranged from stealing a car to truancy. I'm thankful I was never caught on a drug rap or the Marines wouldn't have taken me. My only interaction with any police department has been from the other side – as a perpetrator of a crime."

"Do you have an arrest record as an adult?" Allyson asked.

"I was charged with assault for the altercation at Rendezvous," Howard said. "Prior to that, my last arrest came at age 17."

"Has anyone from the police or the district attorney's office offered to drop the charges for your testimony here today?" Allyson asked.

"No, Ma'am," Howard stated. "And it wouldn't have mattered if they did. I'm here because it is the right thing to do. I'll beat the assault charge because I acted in self-defense. I have a dozen witnesses who will testify that the defendant in this case attacked me unprovoked. I have also learned this week that the entire altercation was caught by security cameras behind the bar."

"Now, Sgt. Howard, let's go back to last Saturday," Allyson said. "What time did you arrive at Rendezvous?"

"I'm not positive," Howard admitted. "I, uh, well; I can't afford cable at my apartment. I'm a big Michigan State fan and they were playing a college football game on cable at 7 p.m. I arrived before the game kicked off. The Alabama-Tennessee game was in the fourth quarter when I got there. That game started at 3:30. I would estimate it was between 6:15 and 6:30, Ma'am."

"Was the gentleman you've identified in the second row of this courtroom there when you arrived?" Allyson asked.

"No, Ma'am," Howard said. "I would have spotted him immediately."

"So you did see him when he entered?" Allyson asked.

"Well, no," Howard said. "You see, well, it was Michigan-Michigan State, Ma'am. I turned my attention to the television screen and my concentration didn't really leave the game until the crowd at the bar picked up. That's when I noticed the gentleman you've pointed out."

"So you didn't see the defendant enter, either?" Allyson asked.

"Well, I have to admit that I did, Ma'am," Howard said. "The defendant entered with a large group of people who were quite noisy. Their entrance drew my attention away from the game while I assessed their threat level. Once I determined they were just a group of stupid college kids, I returned my focus to the game. The first time I noticed the gentleman you've identified as a police officer was a few minutes later. Someone insisted upon drinking from a plastic cup. I found this to be odd, and it was during a commercial, so I glanced over to see why. That's when I saw the large man standing in a shadow beside the bar. The game came back on and I started to watch it again."

"Do you recall speaking to anyone during your time at the bar?" Allyson asked.

Howard frowned as he searched his memory.

"The bartender," Howard said. "I ordered two beers during my time there. Oh, and a woman from my apartment building was there and she sat next to me for a few minutes. She tried to strike up a conversation but, uh, well, like I said, it was Michigan-Michigan State. I sort of tuned her out. She eventually took the hint and left. I was probably very rude to her. I will have to apologize the next time I see her."

Allyson smiled at the earnest young man. She had a good idea of what the young woman had said to him. Howard was keeping to the truth, if just barely.

"Had you met the defendant prior to Saturday evening?" she asked.

"No, Ma'am," Howard said. "I'm still not sure you can say we've met. Well, my fist met his nose but that's about the extent of our relationship."

Bryant couldn't contain the snort that escaped his lips.

"Will you give the court your version of events that led up to the altercation with the defendant, Jonathan Mayfield?" Allyson suggested.

"I have no idea of what led up to his attack," Howard said. "As I said, to me, it was completely unprovoked. I thought for a while that it was because I had on a Michigan State sweatshirt. The Ohio State crowd gets a little riled up over their allegiances. But the defendant said something to the cops that leads me to believe it was a case of mistaken identity."

"What did the defendant say?" Allyson said.

"Objection, Your Honor," Green said, rising to his feet. "If the statement was made to the police, it is hearsay. Additionally, since my client was not read his Miranda rights, it is inadmissible."

"Spontaneous utterance, Your Honor," Allyson countered. "Additionally, this is a statement against penal interest."

"I'm going to table the objection until I hear the witness' answer," the judge ruled. "After he answers, I'll decide whether it's allowable. You may answer, Mr. Howard."

Unlike Allyson, who used the military title out of respect despite the fact that Howard was no longer on active duty, the judge did not want to appear to be playing favorites.

"He said I told some girl that he was a homosexual," Howard said.

"Were those his exact words?" the judge asked, interjecting because there was an objection to be decided.

"Uh, well, no, Sir," Howard said sheepishly. "He said, 'He told that girl I was a fag.' I don't like that word, Your Honor. I know it's politically sensitive, but I served with homosexuals in the military. Sexual preference, skin color or nation of birth does not determine the worth of soldier, in my opinion. I do not use any word that denigrates an entire section of people because of something that can't be changed. I might have called him a curse word. I'm not saying I don't think he's a jerk or even worse. But I would not use the word he attributed to me. That's why I think he had me confused with someone else or he was just looking for a fight. If it was the second, well, he got more of a fight than he bargained for."

The judge nodded.

"I'm going to allow the answer into the record," he declared. "And, also for the record, I appreciate your sentiments."

Green sat down, his frustration mounting. Mayfield was growing angrier and angrier as the hearing progressed.

"Now, Sgt. Howard," Allyson continued. "Can you tell me about the fight?"

"The game had ended and I was finishing my second beer," Howard said. "I had taken my focus off the television and I was more aware of the people around me. I spotted the defendant coming into the bar area. He appeared to be muttering to himself and staring at my back. That caught my attention immediately. As he neared, I watched his approach in the mirror behind the bar, wary of any aggressive movements. When he raised his fist to strike me, I took evasive action."

"What action did you take?" Allyson said.

"Well, I analyzed the situation," Howard admitted. "I was a platoon sergeant in the Marines, Ma'am. Part of my job was to make split-second assessments of potential hostiles and then engage my unit. I quickly determined that the man I now know is Jonathan Mayfield planned to strike me with his fist while my back was turned. To eliminate the effectiveness of his punch, I stepped back toward him. That caused his fist to miss me. Instead he struck the side of my head with his inner arm. I grasped Mr. Mayfield's arm, flipped him over my shoulder and then disabled him using non-lethal force."

"Exactly how did you disable your attacker?" Allyson said. She probably knew the question wouldn't get through. It didn't.

"Objection," Green shouted. "Assumes facts not in evidence. My client has not been convicted of attacking Mr. Howard or anyone else."

The judge sustained the objection.

"Rephrase your question without editorializing, Ms. Granger," the judge commanded.

"Yes, Your Honor," Allyson said, feigning contriteness. "Sgt. Howard, how did you disable the defendant?"

"I punched him – lightly – three times in the face," Howard said. "I made sure to pull the punches. That is, I didn't strike him full force. I only wanted to insure that he didn't arise to continue his attack. I didn't want to harm him."

"In the course of defending yourself, did you draw blood from Mr. Mayfield?" Allyson asked.

"I did," Howard said with a nod. He somehow managed to refrain from smiling. "The defendant in this case was bleeding from both nostrils."

"Did you get some of Mr. Mayfield's blood on your person?" Allyson wondered.

"Yes, Ma'am," Howard said. "I had blood on my right hand. I wiped it on my shirt, which I then removed and sat on the bar."

"You sat your shirt on the bar?" Allyson posed.

"I did," Howard said. "Although most pathogens die when exposed to air – HIV, for example – others can remain active long enough to be transferred through skin to skin contact. I wasn't certain that I had not been injured and I didn't want to risk a disease. I took off my sweatshirt and sat it on the bar to avoid contamination."

"What happened to your sweatshirt?" Allyson asked.

Green stood again to object.

"This witness could have no direct knowledge of where his sweatshirt went after it was seized by the police," he said.

"Sustained," the judge said with a nod.

"Allow me to rephrase," Allyson put forth. "Sgt. Howard, did you see who retrieved your sweatshirt?"

"A member of the Cincinnati Police Department placed it in an evidence bag," Howard said. "As Mr., uh, I don't know his name. As the defense attorney said, I don't know what happened to it after that. And it's a shame. That was my lucky shirt."

"Nothing further at this time," Allyson said, returning to her seat. Van Libber gave her a companionable pat on the shoulder.

Green stood and looked at Randall Howard for a moment.

"You claim the Cincinnati Police Department took possession of your sweatshirt?" he asked.

It had been his impression that the DNA sample claimed by the state of South Carolina had come from the sweatshirt.

"That's what happened," Howard said with a shrug.

"The man identified as Chief Bryant Hawkins, did you see him collect blood from the scene?" Green asked.