Michael Ponsor

First of (so far) three volumes in a courtroom procedural series. The protagonist, somewhat unusually, is the judge.

David Norcross is a federal judge in western Massachusetts. He's only held that seat for about two years, and still feels a bit unsure of himself.

Norcross is currently preparing for the case of Clarence "Moon" Hudson, charged with two counts of murder in a gang-related drive-by shooting. Norcross has never been involved in a capitol case before, and is feeling the pressure, show more wary of making any mistake that could disrupt the trial or leave room for any complaints of judicial error.

The case is one that would usually wind up in state court. But the current government in Washington leans to the right, and is determined to bring death penalty charges in federal court when state law doesn't allow the option of a death sentence. So the murder charges against Hudson have been bumped up to RICO charges, allowing the case to be moved to federal court.

I had mixed feelings about this one. The story is a good one, and I liked Ponsor's characters. While Norcross is the protagonist, the narrative shifts among multiple characters, and we get perspectives from all sides of the case.

But Ponsor has the odd habit of cutting away from scenes a beat too early. We're building up to an important ruling, the discovery of a new clue, a major moment in a personal relationship, and Ponsor cuts away just before that thing happens, leaving us to find out about it in the background narrative a few chapters later.

And the last quarter of the book is plagued by a series of over-the-top plot twists, any one of which Ponsor might have gotten away with in isolation, but the cumulative effect of which is a massive eye-rolling "Oh, come on, now!" A surprise witness is allowed to be called at the last possible moment, even though the judge and the lawyers on both sides have no idea what that witness's testimony will be; a minor supporting character suddenly becomes violent in a way that nothing has prepared us for; a major character is abruptly removed entirely from the action, which only exacerbates Ponsor's tendency to tell us about plot points after the fact instead of letting us see them as they happen. What had been a plausibly realistic story gets a little bit silly.

Had the ending been at the same level as the rest of the book, I'd have happily picked up the next volume in the series. But the increasingly absurd "duhn duhn DUHHHHHHHHNNN!" moments of the final chapters overwhelmed everything, and I was left with a sour taste in my mouth. show less

[book: The Hanging Judge] by [author: Michael Ponsor] is really two stories in one book. Ponsor dedicated his book to the memory of both Dominic Daly and James Halligan who were "hanged by mistake" June 5, 1806, at Northampton, Massachusetts. For me, a mistake is reaching for the salt instead of the pepper, or maybe confusing the diet soda for the sweetened beverage. But, hanging as an accident? Not so much. That seems like an act of such magnitude that no one could possibly do that when he show more really wanted to do something else instead. Mistakes can be corrected. Hanging is forever. However, that is how Daly and Halligan are remembered. On the basis of very little, if any, concrete evidence, two innocent men were hanged because of the perspective of justice rather than the hardcore evidence the crime which led to it.

Edgar "Peach" Delgado and Ginger Daley O'Connor did not know each other. All they did together was walk on the same street at the same time when both were murdered in a drive-by shooting. Edgar Delgado was the target; Ginger O'Connor was mistakenly at the wrong place at the wrong time. It didn't matter that Ginger, a pediatric nurse, just wanted to pet a dog she saw in the street. She was just as dead as Delgado who was the intended victim. An investigation was set in motion to bring the murderer to justice, and this is where matters got more interesting and revert back to the justice of 1806 when someone's hunch could be all it took to find an accused man guilty of whatever crime was handy. Back in 1806 all it might take to throw suspicion on someone was for him to be a stranger in town. In the present day, all that was needed was a few bad marks on a record, and guilt could be assumed.

Which is how Clarence "Moon" Hudson became the primary suspect in the murder of Delgado and O'Connor. He was the perfect fit for the profile of a killer, and he knew "Peach" Delgado well enough to have a motive assigned to him. Hudson said he was innocent, but with his background the only one who was convinced of his innocence was his wife, and her word was discounted simply because she was his wife.

This forms the basis of the case that is prosecuted in **The Hanging Judge**, and it's hard to believe that this is Ponsor's first novel. The story follows the judge in the case, David Norcross, as he has to deal with issues surrounding the case. Add to that the complication of a woman, Clare Lindemann, who Norcross meets under unusual circumstances and definitely wants to get to know better, and there are twists and turns in the story that give a more realistic picture of what a sitting judge goes through while on the bench than most courtroom novels explain. It is not simply a matter of ruling on objections, or instructing a jury. Even a judge's conversations outside the courtroom can pose problems for a case he is hearing should something he says or a reference he makes be taken out of context or simply used against him. I was impressed with the way Ponsor introduced issues central to the trial, and resolved how both sides of the story were examined.

What most impressed me about **The Hanging Judge** was Ponsor's characterization of David Norcross. How seriously Norcross takes his position as a Federal Judge, and how his assumption of that responsibility affects his life in both large and small ways brought a perspective to that job I had not considered before. Norcross became, for me, the image of what I want a judge to be,no matter how difficult his decisions are to make as opposed to a judge less concerned about interpreting the law as it was intended to be applied. For that reason, I hope Ponsor is planning more novels in this vein wherein David Norcross will be tested ethically thereby giving his story more than one level of consideration. I believe Ponsor has the writing talent to build upon a judge who has heart as well as some issues he needs to confront, hopefully with the help of Clare Lindemann. I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys courtroom drama and a mystery that kept me guessing until the end. show less

Judge David Norcross is young and a little new as a federal judge in Springfield. He has his work cut out for him when a gang shooting in Holyoke gets tried in his court, and the accused may face the death penalty if found guilty.

I don't read a lot of courtroom thrillers, but I'm the daughter of a lawyer and can say the courtroom scenes were some of the most believable I've read - and you'd hope they'd be authentic, because the author is a judge. The tension of the case is palpable, and the show more stakes are high. Readers know more than any character because the points of view shift between several characters. This meant I didn't really feel connected to any one, but it was an entertaining read and kept me wondering what would happen. The local setting meant I could picture a lot of the locations, and interspersed with the trial was an account of an historical trial in Northampton of two Irishmen accused of killing Marcus Lyon in the 1800s in Wilbraham, Massachusetts. show less

A hanging judge might be one who is prone to favor capital punishment or one whose is undecided (i.e., hanging) on the appropriateness of the death penalty. Ponsor—himself a judge who has presided over a death penalty case—does an excellent job of presenting the legal complexities of these proceedings and the nuances in how these decisions are made. His intent is to present the facts, but not to provide an opinion. “Here is how a death penalty trial actually works. Now we can show more talk.”

His protagonist is Judge David Norcross, an amiable guy who is driven to conduct a fair trial that would be unassailable from a legal perspective. His thoughts on the morality of capital punishment are never revealed, but his focus on the overriding importance of fairness in death penalty cases is obvious. Ponsor’s decision to write a legal thriller from the perspective of a judge certainly is unusual and gives him the opportunity to highlight subtle legal issues that often are not prominent in Grisham or Thurow, where action seems more important. The downside to this decision is a plot that seems formulaic and slow. In fact, the only action takes place in the first few pages when a drive-by shooting takes the life or a gang-banger and an innocent bystander. An off duty cop chases down the driver but does not manage to get the shooter.

The bulk of the novel consists of character development and legal maneuvering. Although interesting, it does not much of a thriller make. Ponsor tries to show that the players in his drama are real people who are fallible. This, along with the various legal machinations, is intellectually interesting, but falls short of the usual fare offered in thrillers.

The defendant, Clarence “Moon” Hudson, is a young African-American man with a criminal past. He represents an intimidating presence in the courtroom, set in Western Massachusetts, a place where young Black men are in the minority and a bit scary. Ponsor clearly attempts to emphasize the importance of community prejudice on death penalty decisions by introducing the true story of Dominick Daley and James Halligan, two innocent Irish immigrants who were executed in this same community in 1806 for a murder where the evidence consisted of little more than the testimony of a young boy, but a time and place where anti-Catholic bigotry was quite common.

Most of characters in the novel seem to be clichés of the genre. Bill Redpath is an empathetic but curmudgeonly defense attorney. The Hispanic female defense attorney is highly competent and driven to get a conviction. Clare Lindemann is a sexy divorcee who has an affair with the judge and introduces the issue of how easy it is for loose talk to prejudice a jury. We also have the usual types who inhabit these novels: helpful industrious law clerks, cops who are tempted to get a conviction, gang members and other criminal types who have their own agendas, dubious witnesses who either lie or misremember what they saw and even a crazy old lady who offers comic relief.

Ponsor’s strength clearly is his insider knowledge of the nuances that can underlie judicial rulings and the legal strategies that are employed by both parties. He depicts these exceedingly well: testimony the jury can and cannot hear; the need to have the stenographer present at sidebar conferences; attempts by the lawyers to telegraph information to the jury through subtle words and body language, the importance of jury selection. Through these subtleties, Ponsor conveys the idea that these proceedings are often more about procedure, politics and theatrics than innocence and guilt and a prime function of the judge is to mitigate these effects on the decision.

In an interview, Ponsor stated that “A legal regime permitting capital punishment comes with a fairly heavy price. I wanted people to know this.” The burden is tremendous because innocent people can and do die (consider the executions of Daly and Halligan) while guilty people may go free. The ending of the novel, although unsatisfying from a storytelling perspective, does raise well the issue of fallibility. show less