“So what are we looking at?” I asked. “Let's hear both approaches to the case.”
“Granted, some of this depends on how the prosecution would handle the case,” Collin said. “I’m guessing that with the President involved, they’ll want to prosecute this in federal court. There are several factors that might warrant that legally, but I’ll try and keep this simple.”
“Please do,” I said.
Collin nodded. “The best course for a full acquittal would be to argue that the action was committed under duress. You wouldn’t deny that you did the deed, but we would make the case that it was the king’s efforts that forced your hand and that the loss of life and other consequences of not doing what he demanded would have been worse. You have a pretty sound case in this respect.”
“That’s perfect!” Layla exclaimed. “That’s exactly what happened.”
Collin nodded. “It’s a case that could be made, but on the surface, it’s not a strong defense. There might be another way to tackle this.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“We’d present this similar to a hitman case. Sure, you weren’t hired to commit the murder, but you did have a vested interest, namely the recovery of your powers. The victim had stolen something from you and also attacked your girlfriend, so you’d have a motive. However, this Brightborn character also had a motive. Namely, to spare his daughter. In this case, we could argue there was a conspiracy to commit the murder. Just coming together with someone else with the intent of planning a murder is a crime in itself, a felony. By establishing the conspiracy, it would mean that the courts would have to consider two guilty parties, both you and Brightborn, for two felonies—the conspiracy to commit murder and the murder itself.”
“But if we did that, I wouldn’t be acquitted. Brightborn and I would both be charged.”
Collin nodded. “The issue is that in this case, it might be easier to prove a conspiracy than it is to prove duress, given the apparent motives involved. In either case, we have leverage that can be used.”
“Leverage?” I asked.
“You said that the President gave you a choice. I’m not even going to go into the legality of the quid pro quo you say he presented you. It would be hard to prove. But it’s not nothing. Consider the politics of the situation. The President has unilaterally tried to forge an alliance with an alien interest without the consent of Congress and has threatened an individual—you—who he believes could impact the success of this alliance with felony charges if you do not do as he asks.”
I nodded. “Could he be charged with something, too?”
Collin shrugged. “Charging a sitting President with a crime is a disputed topic, and it’s outside my expertise. But I imagine at the very least, his actions might be impeachable.”
“Let me get this straight,” Layla said. “You’re saying we use our leverage on the President to get him to back down?”
“Not necessarily,” Collin said. “Particularly given your irrational insistence that you receive some kind of adjudication on your case.”
“An acquittal,” I said.
“We’ll get to that,” Collin said. “Like I said, arguing duress, I’m reasonably sure if we could gather enough evidence, including the testimony of you three as witnesses, that we could get an acquittal. The problem is, to present this case, we’d have to plead not guilty. Just getting a plea hearing, much less taking it to court, would take more than the thirty days you are insisting on.”
“What if I turned myself in, contingent on an agreement that the case be brought to trial before my time is up?” I asked.
Collin shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. Legally speaking, if you turn yourself in for a felony, the judge is not bound by agreements made with any other party.”
“Not even the President?” I asked.
“Not even the President,” Collin said. “The judge might consider his recommendation, but no judge is bound to any order from the President. Division of powers.”
“So, what exactly are you suggesting?” I asked.
“The ‘hitman’ case has the advantage over the other one in that while it wouldn’t result in your acquittal, most likely it would require the conviction of Brightborn.”
“Even if he’s not a citizen?” I asked. “From what I understand, he has asylum.”
Collin nodded. “Since there isn’t a place where he could be extradited, it would likely be handled in the US legal system. Needless to say that any alliance forged between the President and Brightborn would be suspect and likely nullified by Congress. Furthermore, if there is a record of the President’s trip to St. Louis to meet with you after the crime was committed, and since you did meet with him in Washington beforehand, there’s enough smoke there to at least rouse suspicion that the President was involved.”
“So, how exactly do you suggest we proceed?” Aerin asked.
“Make your public spectacle if you’d like. More eyes on you means more potential eyes on the case if it gets processed. Your refusal to acquiesce to the President’s ultimatum is important, and if possible, it would be advisable to record the call.”
“Is that legal?” I asked. “Don’t both parties have to consent?”
Collin shook his head. “Under federal law, only one-party consent is required. With that, we’d have the quid pro quo in our back pocket. At the very least, a conversation where the President is trying to basically blackmail a person into supporting a decision of his administration would be a bombshell for his political opponents.”
“And then what?” I asked.
“Turn yourself in as a suspect. We’d probably approach the feds on this rather than local authorities. I’d walk you through this process. The important thing is not to answer any questions. If the bag is out on the President, if the notion of his involvement is already out there on paper, we’d lose our leverage.”
“Our leverage for what, exactly?” I asked.
“To convince the President to issue a pardon,” Collin said.
I raised my eyebrow. "A pardon? Is that as good as an acquittal?”
“Legally speaking, yes. It is a total exoneration from the crime.”
I bit my lip. Technically, if I was pardoned, I’d be alleviated of responsibility for the murder by the government. That was what the Furies agreed to accept. “Are you sure that the President would agree to it? Wouldn’t it look bad for him to pardon a murderer?”
Collin smiled. “This is why I like your idea about all these spectacles, these healings. Presuming you can do it, and it gets plenty of public interest, we should be able to pin your indictment after you turn yourself in on an overzealous prosecutor or something. This would give the President the opportunity to swoop in and appear to be the hero for a hero. While I don’t know the President personally, he’s a politician. I’m not sure that he could resist the temptation to earn that much public favor.”
Chapter Fifteen
I think Aerin paid Collin enough money that he could probably afford to buy a small country. The key to it all, he made clear as we left his office, was to exercise my right to remain silent. When it came to the case, he’d handle all the talking. I’d just have to say what he told me to say when he told me to say it.
I wasn't a hundred percent certain I liked the idea. Sure, the President was basically blackmailing me. We were going to attempt to blackmail the blackmailer. I still didn’t like it.
When you’re slithering with snakes, I suppose you have to get in the mud. That doesn’t mean you have to enjoy it.
The plan was to hit several hospitals in a row right along Interstate 64. I knew my way around most of them. A lot of people don’t realize how much time ministers actually spend in hospitals. Hardly a week went by when I didn’t have someone to visit. Sometimes it was a joyous occasion. When a mother gave birth to a child, for instance. Usually, though, my visits to the hospital were to sit and pray with people who were sick, having surgery, or dying. Through the years, I’ve
spent more than a few nights with families in waiting rooms. Not every minister does that. Some only make hospital calls when the situations are dire. Some never go at all.
My years of visits to the hospitals were going to pay off. I knew where the ICUs were. I had credentials at some of the hospitals, and at those where credentials weren’t required, I knew each one’s protocol for signing in, signing out, and the like.
I texted a list of the hospitals and where the ICUs were to Layla as we sat in my Eclipse. Layla and I changed into black clergy shirts with clerical collars. You don’t see a lot of women wearing them because, well, Catholics don’t have female priests. But there were high church denominations that wore collars and also ordained women, so it wasn’t a complete oddity. If anyone asked, I told Layla to tell them she was an Episcopalian.
The idea was to get in and out. Find the direst cases, people on their last breath, then save their lives and bail before the nurses and doctors figured out what I was doing. We’d have the video up to show what happened, ideally, before anyone had a clue what had happened.
People would start putting two-and-two together. I had to move fast because the fairies could portal to wherever we were if they sensed me using magic.
From what Ensley had told me, though, the fairies didn’t know exactly where magic was used right away. They’d sense that magic was used somewhere in the general area, but they would only be able to track it once the magic that was used settled into the aether. He’d also told me that the fairies needed a good visual of the location to create portals there. That meant we’d probably have enough time to at least get one or two “miracles” done at each ICU before moving to the next.
The plan was to start with three hospitals on Kingshighway, just north of the Interstate. One major hospital and two children’s hospitals were situated right next to each other. Aerin and I were going to choose a few random people to heal in the ICU at the first hospital while Layla located some especially worthy cases in the children’s hospitals. She’d text us the names and room numbers and leave, heading down the road to the next hospital, which was just off Clayton Avenue, a few miles up the road. After that, there’d be more of a drive to the next hospital, which was several miles away. By then, if all went according to plan, Layla would have enough of a head start to make it before we did. While I could fly, and that meant I could avoid St. Louis traffic, I wouldn't be able to fly as fast as she could drive. Especially not with Aerin on my back.
What if people saw us flying? I suppose it would just add to the superhero mystique of the narrative we were hoping to put forward. My healing service had made the news before. This would for sure.
As Aerin and I walked through the halls of the first hospital, several people smiled and nodded at me when they spotted my collar. I smiled back. So far, so good.
I knew where I was going. We took the elevator to the third floor and followed the signs to the cardiac ICU.
From my recollection, there were about fifteen rooms in the unit. Any of them would do. I wanted to heal everyone. I could. But we had to move fast. Perhaps, someday, when all this was over, I could make this a regular thing. The possibilities…just to think how many lives I could save.
The key was to walk with a purpose. We had to look like we knew where we were going. The nurses were always ready to help, but they’d certainly ask if they could help me find whatever room I was looking for if I looked at all lost or aloof.
We stepped into the closest room. A sleeping woman, probably in her sixties, was reclined on the hospital bed. She wasn’t on a ventilator or anything, but she had a number of wires attached to her to measure her heart rate, breathing, and whatever else it was they tracked.
“You ready to record this?” I asked.
Aerin nodded as she raised her phone. “We’re live-streaming now.”
I looked at the phone camera. “My name is Caspar Cruciger,” I said. “Some of you have seen me on this channel during the elemental trials. I’ve never met this woman, but she is in the intensive care unit at a local hospital. I’m going to heal her.”
Aerin nodded at me. I put my hands on the woman's chest and inhaled, gathering the power of aether, or spirit, at the forefront of my consciousness. I visualized what this woman might look like healthy, on her feet, full of life. When I'd healed people before, that was what I did. I focused on the ends, not the means. I trusted that the magic would do what it needed to do to make it happen.
I released my magic. A golden glow enveloped the woman’s chest.
The woman gasped.
Then she opened her eyes, looked at me, and cocked her head. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the hospital,” I said. “And you’re going to be fine.”
The woman furrowed her brow. She was still disoriented, and she was confused.
I smiled at Aerin, and she stopped recording.
We left the room and quickly made our way back out of the hospital.
We repeated our efforts at the children’s hospitals nearby.
I had a little badge that I clipped on my shirt, but we couldn’t get as far as the children’s ICU without raising suspicion due to security, especially since Aerin didn’t have any credentials. Layla texted that there were several young people in physical therapy on the first floor. Most of them were there on an outpatient basis, and several of them had injuries and conditions that would be more visibly obvious when I healed them.
I wanted to do more. I wanted to visit the cancer ward. But this would have to do. Not to mention, healing any of the children in the hospital would have a profound impact on their lives.
There was a waiting room where a mother was sitting with three children. Two of them were healthy, playing with the various toys that the office kept in the waiting room. But the third was in a wheelchair.
“Hello,” I said, greeting the mother.
She smiled at me politely. “Hello, Father.”
When someone addressed me like that, it didn’t necessarily mean they were Catholic or religious. But it did usually indicate that they had a certain respect for the clergy.
“Mind if I ask what your son’s condition is?” I asked.
“Cerebral palsy,” the mother said.
“Does the therapy help?” I asked.
The mother sighed. “A little. Progress is slow, but it’s very hard for David to do much. He can barely hold a toy, much less a spoon. But we’re trying to remain optimistic.”
“Would you mind if I prayed for him?” I asked.
“I’d appreciate that,” the mother said.
I nodded at Aerin. She took the cue and opened her phone. It wasn’t obvious she was recording, one of the perks of having cameras on phones. No one would think much of her having her phone out. She just had to be inconspicuous about how she was holding it. We didn’t want it to be obvious that we were taking video.
“Hi, David,” I said. “My name’s Caspar.”
David looked at me and smiled. He had one of those endearing smiles that touched your soul. A child suffering so much who was smiling really made me think. If he could be happy despite what he was facing, what were my troubles really worth?
“I’m going to pray with you, David,” I said.
He continued smiling and raised one hand.
I took his hand in mine.
I inhaled again, bringing the power of aether to mind. I visualized this child’s hand, firmly gripping mine. I imagined him standing from his chair, playing with his siblings on the other side of the room.
The magic I released filled his body. David grabbed my hand tightly. He started kicking his legs.
“Momma?” David asked.
The boy’s mother stepped over to her son. She looked at me, her eyes wide with wonder. “What did you do?”
“He’ll still need therapy to regain his strength,” I said. “But he is healed, ma’am.”
“Did you say…”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve healed your son,” I s
aid.
Aerin pocketed her phone again, and I turned to leave.
The woman grabbed my arm. “You said your name is Caspar, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “God Bless you.”
The woman stood there speechless. I wasn’t sure she believed me. It took a lot to imagine a child suffering as David was to be suddenly and miraculously healed. But she’d see that it was true.
Aerin and I exchanged smiles.
“This is incredible,” Aerin said. “I wish we could do this all day, every day.”
I smiled. “Me, too. One day, perhaps, we’ll be able to.”
Chapter Sixteen
All in all, we healed eight different people at various hospitals around St. Louis. Aerin rode on my back as we flew from place to place. Of course, that meant she had to touch me. She didn’t say anything. Not exactly. But I could see the desire in her eyes. All that physical contact, plus the thrill of what we were doing.
Nothing I’d ever done felt more rewarding. I couldn’t get past the look on David’s face when he squeezed my hand. He knew he was better. He knew he’d been healed. I could see it in his eyes. The gratitude, the hope for what his future now held, and the utter sense of wonder and surprise.
And of course, he had that smile. It didn’t change.
Aerin and I met up with Layla when we were done at the last hospital. Layla was already driving, so I sat shotgun, and Aerin slid into the back of the Eclipse.
“How’d it go?” Layla asked.
“He was amazing!” Aerin exclaimed before I could answer. “You should have seen him. So much grace. The expressions on people’s faces when they realized they were healed was incredible to see.”
“Are the videos getting any views?” Layla asked.
“Let me check,” Aerin said. “We’ve been so busy going from place to place and recording more I haven’t even looked at the numbers.”
Junkyard Dogma (The Elven Prophecy Book 4) Page 9