“We are outside the courtroom just
minutes before the trial of Ezra Stratton will begin.” Clisty stood in front of
the camera in the hall with large, closed wooden courtroom doors behind her.
“The judge has ruled against television cameras inside the courtroom. However,
he does allow reporters. I’ll take notes and sketch the scene as I see it. They
may look like stick figures to another artist, but I’ll do my best to bring the
story as accurately as possible.”
Inside the courtroom, the bailiff pounded the gavel
on the strike plate. “All rise,” he announced.
“I need to take my seat,” Clisty signed off, opened
the door, hurried midway up the isle and sat down beside Roma and Ralph just as
all those present took their seats. She opened her e-tablet and poised her
hands to list the charges.
The bailiff read the charges pertaining to Ezra
Stratton. Clisty quickly brought up the meaning of each charge on her touch
screen. She always did her research completely and well in advance of a hearing.
That research came up immediately on Clisty’s tablet and she followed the words
as the bailiff spoke.
“Kidnapping and/or Criminal Confinement:”
Indiana Code – Section 35-42-3-3 Criminal Confinement:
a. A
person who knowingly or intentionally:
(1)
confines another person without the person’s
consent; or
(2)
removes another person by fraud, enticement,
force, or threat of force, from one (1) place to another;
commits criminal
confinement. Except as provided in subsection (b), the offense of criminal
confinement is a Class D felony.
(a)
The offense of criminal confinement defined in
subsection (a) is:
(1) A Class C felony if:
(A) The person confined
or removed is less than fourteen (14) years of age and is not the confining or
removing person’s child;
(B) It is committed by using a vehicle;
“Got ya!” she screamed inside, her hand pumping a
fist in triumph. Clisty brought up her notes for the next charge.
“Accessory to Robbery.”
“Those who aid in the commission of a crime before or after
the actual act are called accessories to the crime. Any person, who willingly
and intentionally helps a person before a crime is committed, is considered an
accessory before e fact. For example, the person who provides the principle
with maps of the bank, security information, and other details may be
considered an accessory before the fact.
“That fits,” she entered a large number
(2) beside Accessory to
Robbery. “One more to go,” she
mumbled and looked around to see if anyone heard her. Next the bailiff read:
“Accomplice in a Crime.”
“Accomplice in a Crime” Clisty clicked on that tab.
“One who intentionally and voluntarily participate with another in a crime by
encouraging or assisting in the commission of the crime or by failing to
prevent it though under a duty to
do so.”
Clisty knew it would be the courts in Illinois
that would charge Stratton with fraud, embezzlement of funds, child abuse and
whatever else lay incriminating at the bottom of the satchel.
The Allen County Prosecutor,
Albert Fisher’s opening statements included a reference to Clisty. Her hands
froze on the keyboard. “Ezra Stratton committed kidnapping and criminal
confinement of Faith Sterling, and the attempted kidnapping of Clisty Sinclair.
These children were only nine years old when this man snatched Faith Sterling
out of the Sinclair home, and held Faith from the time she was a nine-years-old
child until she was twenty-seven years old. That’s eighteen years out of her
life! Her parents sit here in the courtroom, praying for justice for their daughter.
We are here to see to it their prayers are answered!”
The defense
attorney fed the jury lie after lie that Stratton had told them. Ezra Stratton
was a master manipulator and he had fed his lawyers a believable story that was
shot full of holes. It would be the witnesses that would influence the jury
though, not the lawyers’ rhetoric.
“I’d like to call Melvin
Dean Fargo to the stand,” Fisher announced.
Fargo came in wearing slacks, a sport shirt and sport
coat. He was clean shaven and his hair trimmed. It didn’t matter how much the
Prosecutor’s office made him appear to be a respectable citizen, to Clisty, he
was still one of the monsters that haunted her nights. She had not seen him the
day Stratton nabbed Faith; he was supposed to be waiting in the truck. But,
Clisty remembered that she had heard a man’s voice at the front door, “Hurry
up! I wanna get out of here.”
“Mr. Fargo, let the jury know that you have already
pleaded guilty to the robbery of Fort Wayne Bank. Is that right?” Fisher
questioned.
“Yes,” was Fargo’s single response.
“Did the Prosecutor’s office offer anything to you in
exchange for your testimony?”
“Yes.”
Stratton sat at the defendant’s table, his profile within
Clisty’s gaze. She kept her iPad in her lap where she entered data as attorneys
began their opening statements. She also began to draw in the sketch pad she
had brought. What appeared on the paper was the side view of the man who, as
far as Clisty was concerned, personified evil. As she listened to the testimony
and mechanically penciled in details of the man—Ezra—she was suddenly aware of
all the multitude of frowning, angry lines that filled his face. She decided to
finish his sketch later. Flipped the page over, she began to sketch Fargo.
“In your own words,” Mr. Fargo, “please tell the jury
the terms of the deal you made.”
Fargo turned slighted to look at each jury member,
and then looked away. “I agreed to testify against Ezra Stratton in exchange
for a reduced sentence for bank robbery.”
Stratton grabbed the side of the table, growling as
he lunged across the surface, “You what?” he roared.
“Mr. Lubansky, please control your defendant,” the
judge ordered.
“Sorry, Your Honor,”Lubansky said as he whispered to
Stratton.
“What do you know about the kidnapping of Faith
Sterling?” Fisher asked Fargo.
“Ezra and I were having coffee at Mary’s Coffee Place
on the west side of Chicago, when he started crying. I asked him what was
wrong. He said his little girl had just died.”
Lubansky stood up, “I object. Your Honor, what does
the death of a child have to do with a kidnapping or bank robbery?”
“Mr. Fisher?” Judge Sheldon raised his eyebrows.
“Mr. Fargo was just about to tell us how all of this
connects.” Fisher answered then turned back to his witness. “Mr. Stratton was
upset over the death of his daughter?”
“Yeah ... yes. He said, his wife—“
“Objection,” Lubansky said again, “hearsay.”
“Withdraw,” Fisher responded. “Mr. Fargo, just tell
us how the death of Mr. Stratton’s daughter affected you.”
“Ezra said his wife was so upset—”
“Your Honor!” Lubansky objected again.
“I’m going to let the witness finish. Then I’ll rule
if it’s admissible. Continue Mr. Fargo.”
“Ezra asked me to go with him to Indiana to find
another daughter for his wife. He said, his grandparents lived in Fort Wayne
and he knew his way around.”
“Go on,” Fisher directed.
“When we got to Fort Wayne, we drove around for a
while and finally spotted two girls out exploring alone. We followed them to a
house and Stratton waited for a little while to see if he could tell if any
adults were at home. He told me to get out and go around and look in the
windows while he went to the front door. If I didn’t see anyone by the time I
got back around to the front, I was to go to the truck and be ready when he
came out. I saw him burst through the front door and come out a few minutes
later with a girl tucked up under his arm. He threw her in the truck cab between
us and we got out of there,” Fargo didn’t look at Stratton but kept his focus
on Fisher.
“Now, can you tell us Stratton’s connection to the
bank robbery?” Fisher asked.
“When I needed money I’d go over to Naperville, to
Ezra’s place and get another payment for keeping my mouth shut about the
kidnapping.”
“Did you know that
Faith Sterling was still held captive in one of the upstairs rooms?”
“I didn’t want to
know.”
“How did Mr.
Stratton pay you?” Fished asked.
“Cash,” Fargo said
and smiled. “I would only take cash so I didn’t have to endorse a check.”
“Do you know how
much he gave you over the years?” Fisher asked and looked at the jury.
“Ezra knows every
penny. He would take a book out of his big safe and write down every dime. I
asked him where all that money came from and he said, ‘I’ve got a really good
scam going. The Freedom Temple is as good as Fort Knox.’ He said everyone just
hands over their money to him.”
“Hearsay,” Lubansky
shouted.
“Don’t you worry,
Mr. Lubansky,” Judge Sheldon spit back in a well-rehearsed tone. “We’ll check
all his statements against the facts.”
“Do you know of any
proof of your statements?” Fisher asked.
“Sure, Stratton
loved to count his money over and over. He had it all written down in those
books he kept.”
“So, each time you
went to him, Stratton gave you cash for your silence?” Fisher paced back and
forth in front of the witness stand like he was pondering the depth of Stratton
crimes.
“No, not every
time. A few times, he said he was getting tired of handing over his money to a
taxi driver.”
“A taxi driver?”
Fisher snapped back.
Fargo stole a glance
at Stratton and quickly looked away. “Yeah, because all I did was drive the
car. He said he’d planned out some robberies for me to pull to save him his
cash.”
“Hearsay,” Lubansky
objected with his hands spread in surrender.
“It’s not just my
word,” Fargo protested. “I saved Ezra’s diagrams and instructions.”
Fisher took a
manila envelope from the defense table and withdrew three pieces of paper. “I
would like to enter these into the record as Exhibits A, B, and C.” He held up
Exhibit A for Fargo to see. “Do you recognize this document?”
“Yes, Sir. That’s
the first robbery Ezra planned for me.”
“Let the jury be
aware that experts have analyzed the handwriting and are ready to testify that
the handwriting matches Ezra Stratton’s,” Fisher said and handed the paper to
Fargo.
“This paper shows
the directions to a hardware store owned by Ezra’s uncle, Wade Dunlevy. Ezra
said he had spent a summer in Fort Wayne with his grandparents and worked at
the Hardware store. The writing says:
1. Payroll in store
by Friday noon.
2. Most employees
go to lunch between 1 pm and 2 pm. Store traffic down.
3. Money available
to cash customer’s payroll checks.
4. That cash is in
a vault in Dunlevy’s office.
5. This last set of
numbers is the combination to the vault.
Fargo testified, “I
was able to get in the store, ask Dunlevy to find a part I thought would be
back in the store room, slip into the office while he was gone, open the safe
and was out of there in minutes. I got five-thousand dollars with that job.”
Fisher looked at
the jury. “So that paper is a complete instruction for the robbery at Dunlevy’s
Hardware Store,” he repeated. “Again, let the jury be aware that all
handwriting on the paper belongs to Ezra Stratton. The fingerprints are those
of Stratton and Melvin Dean Fargo.” He placed the sheet of paper into
evidence on the bar of the court.
“What about the robbery at Fort Wayne Bank?” He
pulled out another exhibit and showed it to Fargo.
“Yes, those are Ezra’s directions to the bank, when
to hit it and which teller to approach,” Fargo said with growing confidence.
“Why did Stratton identify a specific teller?” Fisher
questioned.
“Because, she’s his cousin,” Fargo pointed accusingly
at Stratton. “She had already been through a robbery at the bank before and Stratton
said she was rattled. She had told the family if she was ever held up again,
she wouldn’t be able to get the money to the robber fast enough and get him out
of the bank,” Fargo sat back and finally relaxed a little.
Fisher faced the jury and waved the evidence in the
air. “Let it be known that the facts of previous robberies and the name of the
teller in both cases is indeed the second cousin of Ezra Stratton. All
handwriting and fingerprints have been checked and corroborated.” Next, Fisher
presented Exhibit C. “Tell us about this small piece, Mr. Fargo.”
Fargo took the three by five card in his hand and
flipped it with his fingernail. “This one’s old, but I remember it.” He
squirmed a little in the witness chair and cleared his throat. “See there, at
the top, there’s a date. The date we drove from Illinois into Fort Wayne,
Indiana to snatch Joslyn Stratton.”
“Let the court be aware that Joslyn’s name at the
time of her abduction was Faith Sterling.” Then he turned back to the witness.
“Go ahead, Mr. Fargo. Tell the court what the rest of the card says.”
“It’s a list,” Fargo explained. “It
says:
1.
Leave - 9
a.m. sharp
2.
Take your gun
3.
Gas up the truck – it’s a long way to Fort Wayne
That’s it. Ezra liked to make lists and keep notes.
It makes him seem more in control than others,” Fargo added.
“Thank you. I’m
finished with this witness,” Fisher said.
“You may step down, Mr. Fargo,” Judge Sheldon
announced.
“I would like to call Faith Stratton,” Fisher
announced.
Faith was sworn in, sat down, turned and caught
Clisty’s eye.” She smiled faintly and refused to look at Stratton.
“Mrs. Stratton, tell us what happened to you when you
were nine years old,” Fisher’s tone was calm and soothing.
“I was playing at my friend’s house, Clisty
Sinclair’s, when the front door burst open and The Guardian broke in.”
“The Guardian?” Fisher questioned. “Is The Guardian
here in this courtroom?”
Faith kept her eyes on Fisher, and then turned to the
defendant. “That’s The Guardian, Ezra Stratton.”
“Will you tell the jury why you refer to Stratton as
The Guardian?” Fisher asked.
“He kidnapped me and took me to his home in
Naperville, Illinois. I never knew his name. I could call him, The Guardian and
his wife, Lady. They forced me to live in one of the bedrooms upstairs. I never
went outside. No one knew I was there except for Melvin Dean Fargo, but I
didn’t know his name at the time either. I had a pillowcase over my head most
of the way to Illinois and only got a glimpse of Fargo.”
Faith was on the witness stand for a long time. Then,
she was cross examined by Lubansky.
“Mrs. Stratton, Ezra Stratton is your father-in-law
isn’t he?” Lubansky asked with hostility in his voice.
“Yes, I guess he is.”
“You guess? Are you that confused?”
Fisher jumped up. “Your Honor, I object to the tone
Mr. Lubansky is using. Faith has been through enough.”
“I’m sorry,” Lubansky apologized, and then turned
back to her. “If you’re going to accuse a man of something he has a right to
face you.” His voice rose and grew louder. “Take another look at the defendant.
Can’t you face him?”
“Yes!” Faith hissed as she turned. “I can look at him,
even though I was his child-slave, a phantom in his presence. He rarely talked
to me except to yell and berate me. He never touched me except to beat me or slap
me across the room, just as he did my daughter, his loving granddaughter,
recently. I was a prisoner in his home. I never went to school or to the church
he was the so-called Spiritual Leader in.” Her eyes flared and her cheeks grew
red with anger. She stuck out her finger the full length of her arm. “There’s
the man, my kidnapper, the man who illegally confined me for eighteen years and
... the guardian of ... nothing,” she yelled and stared Stratton down.
The people in the courtroom whispered between themselves.
“He’s evil,” one of them said. “I’d like to get my hands on him,” a man muttered.
The judge gaveled the room to silence.
“I have no more questions of this witness,” the
defense attorney surrendered.
Faith stood up and waited for a few seconds while the
anger, that had set her body shaking, settled down. She said nothing but held
her head high and stared at Stratton as she walked passed him, touched Clisty
on the shoulder as she passed and walked out of the courtroom.
“Would Mrs. Emily Stratton come to the stand?”
“What?” Lubansky jumped to his feet. “Side bar,
please.”
Fisher and Lubansky came to the well of the court. “A
woman cannot be forced to testify against her husband,” Lubansky protested.
“She isn’t being forced, Your Honor. And her words
are not to accuse Ezra Stratton as much as they are to validate Faith
Stratton’s testimony. Since Ezra would not allow anyone else in the house and
Faith wasn’t permitted to go anywhere, Mrs. Emily Stratton, Faith’s little
daughter Pooky, and Faith’s husband, who is now deceased, are the only people who
could testify to her existence for the last eighteen years.”
Judge Sheldon ground his teeth and shot a side glance
to Ezra. “If it is Mrs. Stratton’s desire to speak, I am certainly not going to
stop her. Let the record stated that she is not required however.”
Emily Stratton came to the witness stand for swearing
in. Her long hair, swept back from its peasant style, was fashioned into a soft
cluster of curls gathered into a loose bun. As she sat down, the judge
addressed her. “Mrs. Stratton, I need to ask you again if you have been forced
or coerced into testifying against your husband, Ezra Stratton.”
“I was not coerced at all,” she said with her chin
held high and defiance in her whisper-soft voice. She locked eyes with Ezra and
did not release him from her gaze.
Stratton’s face grew hard and dark. His brows
furrowed with deep menacing lines. Emily expression was defiant in the face of
his silent intimidation.
“Tell me why you volunteered to testify today, Mrs.
Stratton,” Fisher asked. He stood back from the witness stand. Both the jury and Ezra Stratton himself were within her gaze.
“I must testify to
the presence of a wonderful child and beautiful daughter in my home. No one
ever saw her ...” she started to sob and then swallowed hard regaining her
voice. “But, I have to let everyone know she was there, hidden away, in our
upstairs.” She looked at Ezra and snapped, “That hateful man, Ezra Stratton,
brought Faith into our home, saying that he had adopted her in Indiana. He
named her Joselyn and she never heard the name Faith again. In fact, Ezra never
told her what her new last name was, Stratton. But, I’ll have to admit, once
Joselyn came out of the shock of ripping her from her home and parents ... she
told me something.” She looked back at Roma and Ralph. They were crying.
“Joselyn did tell me that she had a mom and dad and that her name was Faith. I
thought, or I wanted to think, that Jocelyn was just wishful-thinking, that she
hadn’t gotten over the grief from the death of both of her parents. That’s what
Ezra had told me.” Emily blew her nose and wiped tears from her eyes.
She continued. “Joselyn
was a good girl, an inquisitive and smart girl. But, if she spoke up about
anything ... that she didn’t like cauliflower for supper, Ezra would hit her,
or even beat her. She was a prisoner in our home. Ezra called her his slave-child.
A few times he told her that her parents didn’t die, that they had sold her to
him. I cried myself to sleep many nights.”
“Why didn’t you
protect her or get her out of there?” Fisher asked.
“I tried a couple
of times. I was beaten and he told me that if I ever tried to run away with
Joselyn, he would throw me out and keep Joselyn ... if I tried anything. Our own
son Steven, who became Faith’s husband and Pooky’s father, could not stand up
to him. If Steven said anything to anyone, his schooling would stop and he
wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. I had to get Ezra’s permission to leave the
house every time, or even go out in the yard. I had no car. I didn’t know how
to drive.” She cleared her throat and whispered. “Really, I guess we were all
held captive by Ezra Stratton.”
Emily sipped from a
glass of water, the prosecutor provided, and then handed it back. “Ezra wouldn’t
let me call the doctor when Steven had a heart attack ... he was so young. Ezra
said no one was coming in the house. He said, all we had to do was pray and if
Steven died, it was our fault because we didn’t pray hard enough.”
“Were you at fault,
Mrs. Stratton?” Fisher asked. “Did Steven die because you and Faith didn’t pray
hard enough?”
“Of course not,”
Emily stated with a small measure of confidence. “God has plans beyond anything
we can understand. It was only because Steven died, and Ezra and I were at the
funeral, that Joselyn and Pooky were alone in the house for a few hours. God used Steven’s death to free Faith and my
dear granddaughter. They were able to escape even though I couldn’t set them
free.” She straightened her back and glared at Ezra Stratton.
The court buzzed
again with whispers and tears. The judge did nothing to silence the room.
Lubansky sat at the defense table and flipped his pen back and forth in his
fingertips.
“I have no
questions for this witness,” Lubansky said boldly. Stratton seethed, with his
shoulders raised, like a mad dog, ready to attack. Lubansky didn’t even look at
him.
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