I were rating signs, this would not be a good one.
Judge Harrison asks the foreman if his jury has reached a verdict, and I find myself hoping he’ll say no. He doesn’t, and Harrison directs the clerk to retrieve the verdict slip from him. The clerk does so and hands it to Harrison.
Harrison reads it, his face impassive, then hands it back to the clerk. He asks Kenny to stand, and Kenny, Kevin, and I stand as one. I have my hand on his left shoulder, and Kevin has his hand on his right. Kenny turns to Tanya and actually smiles, a gesture of immense strength and generosity.
I can almost feel the gallery behind me, inching forward, as if that will let them hear the verdict sooner.
The clerk starts to read. “In the matter of The State of New Jersey v. Kenneth Schilling, we the jury find the defendant, Kenneth Schilling, not guilty of murder in the first degree.”
Kenny whirls as if avoiding a tackle and reaches for Tanya. Their hug is so hard it looks like one of them is going to break. He outweighs her by over a hundred pounds, but I’m not sure which one I’d bet on.
After a short while Kenny spreads his arms to include Kevin and me in the embrace. As group hugs go, it’s a good one. Kenny and Tanya are crying, while Kevin and I are laughing. But we’re all making the same point in our own way… it doesn’t get much better than this.
Judge Harrison gets order in his courtroom and officially releases Kenny, who’s got to do some paperwork. Tanya waits for him while Kevin and I go outside to answer a few questions from the assembled media.
When we get to the area set up for the press briefing, we see something unusual going on. Rather than waiting for us to arrive, the press is gathered around a TV monitor, watching a cable news station. They are watching the news, when they’re supposed to be covering it.
“What’s going on?” I say, a little miffed that nobody is paying much attention to me. One of the reporters answers, “Bobby Pollard is threatening to kill his wife.”
I start walking toward the television monitor when a uniformed officer comes over to me and grabs my arm. “Mr. Carpenter, Lieutenant Stanton asks that you come with me immediately.”
He quickly starts leading me away, and when I look back, I see that Kevin is lost in the crowd. Within moments we’re in a police car, heading toward Fair Lawn, and I ask the officer to bring me up-to-date.
“Pollard’s wife called 911. He’s in their house with a gun, and she said he’s going crazy, threatening to kill everyone.”
“Why does Pete want me there?” I ask, but he shrugs and says he has no idea.
We arrive near the Pollard house in a few minutes, and the scene is a middle-class version of the standoff at Kenny Schilling’s house. This case has ironically come full circle, except this time there is no way I’m going in.
I see Pete, who is second-in-command to his captain. It turns out that I have no real function here; Pete tells me that they figured that since I know the players, they might have some questions I could answer. I’m told to stay in the police command van and wait, which I’m more than happy to do.
In the van one of the sergeants plays back a copy of the 911 call. Teri Pollard’s voice is the sound of pure panic. “This is Teri Pollard. My husband has a gun. I’m afraid he’s going to—it’s okay, honey, I’m just calling to get you some help, that’s all… just some help.” I can’t hear Bobby’s voice through the tape, but it’s obvious she’s talking to him.
She continues. “Please. He left the room. Send officers quickly… please!”
The dispatcher asks for her address and, after she gives it, asks if there is anyone else in the house. Teri says no, that their son is staying at her mother’s in Connecticut. The call is then cut off, suddenly and with no explanation.
“Has there been any contact with her or Bobby since?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “We’ve been calling in, but nobody answers the phone. But no gunshots either.”
Then, in literally a sudden blast of irony, a gunshot rings out, seemingly from inside the house. I hear a policeman from the forward lines near the house yell, “Move!” and I see a SWAT team head toward the house