The muted frenzy in the courtroom when Donald Trump was convicted of felonies in New York

Shortly before 4:15 pm on Thursday, Donald Trump’s voice could be heard, muffled, beyond the thick doors of the Manhattan Criminal Court Room 1530.

“I want to campaign,” Trump told TV cameras positioned in the hallway.

He and his entourage entered the courtroom and took their seats at the defense table and on two rows of benches in the gallery behind.

The prosecutors had already entered. A few minutes later, judge Juan Merchan arrived.

Merchan said he brought both sides into the room because he intended to dismiss the jury at 4:30 p.m., the usual closing time at Manhattan Criminal Court. He wanted everyone present to finish the process.

“We’ll give them a few more minutes and then we’ll dismiss them,” Merchan said.

Merchan then left for his locker room, saying he would be back soon.

When a jury hearing a trial in room 1530 is deliberating, the outside world is typically informed that the jurors have a question, a score, or a verdict, when an old-fashioned bell rings. shaken by the noise, like the bell of an apartment door accompanied by a metallic bell.

That noise resounded twice Wednesday afternoon, when jurors asked to reread the judge’s testimony and instructions.

Thursday began with the judge rereading his portion of the order. Two court reporters then performed the transcripts for the jury — one in a monotone and thick New York accent, the other excitedly reading his lines — playing the roles of David Pecker and Michael Cohen, among others. Then, the jury made up of seven men and five women returned to deliberate.

The rest of the day was filled with radio silence. No bells, no notes.

But they were working, deliberating, reaching consensus.

It appears that when the jury were told they would soon be discharged, they said they were not ready to go.

When 4:30 pm arrived and they returned to the courtroom, the lawyers in the pit and the defendant stirred with casual annoyance.

Where is the judge? And the jury?

The defendant had a tight schedule. He is not only a former president, but also the presumptive Republican nominee for president again. His communications director, Steven Cheung, and other aides were in the second row of the gallery. His son Eric was sitting in the front row, next to Alina Habba, a spokeswoman for Trump’s legal effort.

At 4:36 pm, the judge entered.

“I apologize for the delay,” Merchan said. “We received a note. It was signed by the jury foreman at 4:20 p.m. It is marked Court Exhibit Number 7.”

The note included an announcement, followed by a very polite request:

‘We, the jury, have a verdict. We would like another 30 minutes to complete the forms. Will this be possible?”

Imagine the sound of dozens of people quickly losing and catching their breath.

Court decorum demands silence. Then a silent frenzy ensued.

Prosecutors whispered, Trump’s team made noise and tapped phones. Dozens of reporters’ keyboards clattered. Some complained about the poor Wi-Fi in the room. Court officials warned the complainants.

Trump’s behavior has changed.

He appeared jovial, chatting with attorney Todd Blanche before news of the verdict broke. After the announcement, he remained seated as he had done for much of the trial, motionless, slumped slightly in his chair, looking straight ahead.

Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg, who attended the trial only intermittently, arrived to watch the outcome of perhaps the most scrutinized and historic case he has ever led.

Every seat in the courtroom was occupied, there was standing room only, and the only people standing were the court officials. They walked the hallway and perimeter, maintaining an uneasy silence and patrolling for cell phones, the biggest enemy of a silent courtroom.

The minutes pass slowly, silently, as one of the most powerful people in the world awaited his fate.

Shortly after 5 p.m., Merchan returned. He reread the jury note in the record.

“Are we ready to bring in the jury?” Merchan asked.

“Yes, judge,” said prosecutor Joshua Steinglass, who exactly two days earlier, at 5 p.m., was only halfway through a marathon closing argument that kept the courtroom open late into the night.

“Yes,” said Trump lawyer Todd Blanche.

“Bring the jury, please,” Merchan said.

5:04 p.m.: Through a side door, six alternate jurors entered and were given seats in the front row of the gallery. They attended the trial dutifully for weeks, taking such copious notes that Merchan praised them for how seriously they took their work, knowing they might not have a say in the final decision.

5:05 p.m.: “Everyone get up,” shouted a court official. Trump stood with his arms at his sides.

None of the jurors looked at Trump as they passed; many had their eyes turned to the ground. Throughout the trial, as the jurors came and went, he looked at them, but they rarely met his gaze. This time he focused forward.

Everyone sat down and Merchan counted the note once more.

In New York, the first juror seated is automatically the president. He had sat silently for weeks, but his moment was approaching. The eyes of the court and the attention of the world were about to turn to him.

“Mr. Foreperson,” said Merchan, his voice seeming to waver slightly, “without telling me the verdict, has the jury, in fact, reached a verdict?”

“Yes, they do,” he said.

Eric Trump can be seen shaking his head briefly.

“Take the verdict, please,” Merchan told the court clerk, who asked the president to stand.

He stood up, resting his left arm on the railing while his right hand held a microphone.

“How do you feel about the first count of the indictment, charging Donald J. Trump with the crime of falsifying business records in the first degree, guilty or not guilty?” the clerk asked.

“Guilty.”

“How do you say count two?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count three?”

Guilty.

Trump’s eyes appeared to close and his head shook slightly, his lips pursed and his eyes downcast.

Each count corresponds to a different check, invoice or voucher forged at Trump’s request to cover up a conspiracy to influence the 2016 election through illegal means. Therefore, after the third count, it was difficult to imagine that any of the remaining 31 were “innocent.” Still, he had to sit and listen.

“How do you say to count four?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count five?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count six?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count seven?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count eight?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count nine?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you tell them to count to 10?”

“Guilty.”

As the foreman read, several jurors kept their eyes downcast.

“How do you tell it to count to 11?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 12?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 13?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 14?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 15?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 16?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 17?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 18?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 19?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 20?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you tell it to count to 21?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 22?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 23?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 24?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 25?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 26?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 27?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 28?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 29?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 30?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 31?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 32?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 33?”

“Guilty.”

“How do you say to count 34?”

“Guilty.”

One of the key moments in the defense case revolved around questioning how much information witness Michael Cohen could have been transmitted in a minute and a half phone call. Could Cohen have told Trump’s bodyguard about a teenager who was prank calling him and then updated negotiations to buy an adult film star’s silence about an alleged sexual encounter?

The defense said, no way. One prosecutor went so far as to demonstrate during closing arguments a hypothetical phone call where this information is transmitted in less than a minute.

It’s 5:08 pm. The jurors entered, passed Trump, the judge, Bragg and others, walked across the courtroom and sat in their assigned seats. The foreman went to the judge and made a 34-count call and repeated it.

All in just three minutes.

They condemned Donald John Trump. The 45th President of the United States was now a criminal.

His body remained still, but the corners of his lips sank.

Blanche asked that the jurors be heard. Each confirmed that they agreed with the verdict.

Merchan thanked the jurors, saying the trial began with jury selection on April 15.

“It’s a long time. It was a long time that you were away from your job, your family, your other responsibilities. But not only that, you were involved in a very stressful and difficult task,” Merchan said.

“I want you to know that I really admire your dedication and your hard work. I watched you. Like I said before, I watched you during the trial and I could see how involved you were, how engaged you were, how you invested in this process and gave to this subject to the attention it deserved.

The lawyers on the prosecutors’ side nodded in agreement. Trump still appeared to be barely moving.

Everyone stood up again as the jurors were dismissed. Once again, no one looked at Trump, and Trump didn’t look at anyone.

Blanche immediately asked Merchan to overturn the verdict and pronounce a sentence of acquittal. The motion was denied.

The judge set a sentencing hearing for July 11. He then left.

Trump and his entourage stood up to leave, their lips forming a parabola meeting the sides of their chins. He took a few steps and gently held his son’s hand for a moment. He turned and walked slowly towards the back doors of the room.

As he left the courtroom, he walked heavily, with a deep frown on his flushed face.

The trial is over. The prosecutors were packing their briefcases and suitcases.

From inside the courtroom, the muffled but familiar voice of a perennial presidential candidate could be heard, back on the floor, condemning his treatment.