by Mark Tiro
At last she could look at it now, at home, where no one else was around to see her.
She looked, and at last, she started to weep.
Mondays could be good too. Pilates, coffee and the paper, afternoon drinks, or maybe not getting out of bed at all.
Not really. Monday was a work day. And Maya was a worker. She liked to work. She had worked hard her whole life. But this morning, she let herself dream of yoga pants and walking the dog, and all the things people in her neighborhood seemed to do. As she was thinking about how she never really seemed to do any of that, her phone started playing music. This was her alarm. She hit snooze, but then thought better of it, and decided to get out of bed.
And she almost made it too. But sitting there in bed, she gave herself a little space, a moment of quiet. As she pulled the covers up, Maya drifted inwards, into her mind. It was a place she’d never really wanted to be. And still, she found herself going there more and more now, carving out these moments. Maya felt her body twitch, tense and then release. As if she were remembering and then releasing ancient blows of a forgotten blade that had been long buried in her psyche, her body shuddered and then drifted off to sleep again.
Asleep, Maya found herself standing on a barren plane. Devastation was strewn all around her. The dead reached up for her. The moans of the dying called out her name.
And she knew she was dreaming, but that didn’t stop the nightmare. She felt a tear roll down her cheek. So she tried to do the one sensible thing she could think to do. She tried to leave the battleground. Of course, now that she realized she was dreaming, Maya made a decision.
If I’m dreaming, I can damn well fly! Maya thought. It’s my dream. I can fly if I want to. She was, by then, fully aware that she was in the middle of a battlefield, and that the battlefield was itself just a dream.
Only when she tried, she discovered she couldn’t fly. Not even in her dream. Maya knew it was a dream, and even knowing that, she still couldn’t fly. The best she could manage was to scrape along the blood-stained battleground, never really able to lift off.
After she woke up the second time, she decided it was time to get up and go to work.
This was Maya’s dark night of the soul.
She didn’t know that, however. And of course, she couldn’t see that. What she could see however, was herself—slipping, fighting, overwhelmed, and at last, falling into the sea of dead and dying, as they pulled her down with them, into the blood-stained dirt.
These wars raged in her intensely now. But she couldn’t see a way out. As long as she was here, working as a Public Defender, she had to keep fighting for her clients. After all, Maya thought, I’d be an asshole not to.
Which is how, as she was waited for the elevator later that morning, the thought occurred to her for the first time that maybe she should quit. Stop being a Public Defender. Leave. Go home. Find another job. Maybe kitten rescue. No, she thought at last. Puppy grooming.
That thought made her happy. For the first time that morning, Maya smiled.
17
Before going down to court that morning, Maya took a look on Google for the first time at everything that came up about David. She’d want to at least look at whatever was floating around out there. Maybe some of it was good (rarely, in her experience, but there’s always hope right?), and probably a lot of it was bad (usually, in her experience, but it would be good to know how the DA might ambush her in trial, if it came to that…).
Some news articles she’d already seen, but after a few clicks, she was looking at David’s wife’s Facebook page. Completely public, no privacy restrictions. Old people, Maya thought. They just don’t get it. But there it all was—pictures of David and his now dead daughter. Some with the soon-to-be ex-wife too. They all looked happy enough.
Maya downloaded the pages. She printed them out and put them in the file. At the very least, she decided, it might be helpful to show that David loved his daughter. Probably help undercut the DA’s theory on the first degree murder charge at least, that David was suicidal, and trying to kill himself, and take his daughter down with him. She reflected on this, adding silently to her inner legal analysis, that’s some bullshit there.
Maya’s mind lit up with the flash of competitive zeal. It became clear to her that the prosecution’s whole case for first degree murder—for putting David away for life—was just an over-charged flight of imagination of some feckless DA.
Of course, she thought, that’s why Lil’ Dick has such a hard on to get David shrunk by one of his own DA psychs.
She wondered why she hadn’t seen it earlier. Gevorkian’s taking a wild pot shot. As if he thinks the PD’s office had assigned someone with no fucking experience. He’s so beyond the pale. Asshole’s just fucking around. He’s playing for a fumble.
Regardless of whatever was going on in the rest of her life, Maya Lee did not fumble. She was just too good of a lawyer for that. Under the right circumstances, the closest she would ever come to a fumble would be to stab the ball, deflate it and shove it down her opponent’s throat.
Jackass, she thought. She had the DA, Paul Gevorkian, firmly in mind.
Thinking that, Maya smiled.
Still smiling, Maya got off the elevator and walked into her regular courtroom. She was just in time to hear a defendant who was representing himself shouting at the judge. Maya saw the bailiff walk up from behind, and, despite the fact that the defendant was already handcuffed to the chair, grab him so hard he let out a loud stream of obscenities ending in “fuck you judge.”
Just a normal day, Maya thought, as she walked over to check in with the clerk when she saw the judge stand up, look straight at the defendant, and say (very) loudly, “‘Fuck you…’”
The low background cacophony that goes on day in and day out in criminal court came to dead stop. Even Maya, jaded as she was by the day-to-day theatrics of the place, found herself looking up with her jaw wide open. Like everyone else in the courtroom, she was stunned into momentary silence. Thoughts started to race through her mind (Judge can’t say that! Will he be removed from the bench? Wow, holy shit!). Just then, the judge continued with the second part of his sentence:
“…is not an appropriate thing to say in Court.”
It took another couple seconds for Maya to put the two parts of the sentence back together. Her momentary shock wore off, and almost simultaneously, Maya and a couple other lawyers burst out laughing.
The court reporter’s transcript for this is going to be a thing of art, Maya thought, smiling to herself.
A couple routine progress reports later, Maya found herself back in her office, doing her most judicial impression, and telling Donald (and anyone else who walked by), “‘Fuck you… is not an appropriate thing to say…’” She sat back on her office couch and burst out laughing.
When Maya checked her email, she was more than a little shocked to see there was one from Paul Gevorkian. The DA was offering David a plea to a second degree murder charge, instead of to a first. If David accepted it, he’d go away for 25 years to life. The ‘life’ part was a lot more likely than the ‘25’ part.
There was a PS to the email also. How quaint of him to include a PS, Maya thought. It read, “PS—if your client doesn’t accept the offer at the next court date, it’s off the table and any future offers will only be higher.”
Maya read the PS and burst out laughing. Still, she got mad underneath, her contempt for the DA unabated. But just as the familiar rush of anger was flaring up, sending her into attack mode, she recognized she was angry. She recognized that where she should have laughed, she’d raged instead. Maya became suddenly quiet, and then sad. But only briefly. An instant later, her old competitiveness rushed in, and she launched into planning her counterattack. With a vengeance.
Worse than 25 to life? He has got to be joking, she roared, silently. At some point, her spell broke and Maya smiled again.
Maybe this is what David was talking about after all—stand aside and jus
t watch your thoughts without judging them. ‘Without judging yourself.’ That was what he said.
And remembering what David had said, Maya tried to apply it. She tried to forgive Gevorkian.
It didn’t take. Despite the sincere try, Maya just wasn’t ready. The second she had the thought to forgive, her mind flew out of control. Again. Her nascent thought of forgiveness was obliterated, first by a rage as she felt like she had been coerced by David into forgiving when all she really wanted to do was attack. Then she launched into analysis and strategy, coldly planning her counter attack. This came easy to Maya. She was very good at it.
Kind of a nothing offer, she thought, filling her mind with mind-numbing legal analysis. David’s in his late forties. For him, that’s basically a life offer. Gevorkian hasn’t even turned over the murder book yet. I want to find out what he’s hiding first.
“Whoa! Glad to see you Maya!” Grace blurted out. Maya had stomped out of her office and rounded the corner without looking. She had been so preoccupied with her legal analysis that she ran headlong into Grace, who had barely managed to not go crashing to the ground from the force of it.
“Hey. Happy I ran into you,” Maya said, after they untangled themselves.
“Literally, huh?” Grace smiled.
“Well, don’t ever say I don’t like to get up close and personal. Hey, do you have a minute to talk about a case?”
“Of course. One of yours, I guess?” Grace asked her.
“My murder. I was hoping to run something by you.”
“Maya!” Grace said, loudly, and with a big smile now. “This is the Maya I love! You’re up to something, aren’t you? What are you scheming Maya? You know I love it when you let me in on your schemes.”
“Grace!” Maya shot back just as loudly. “I do not scheme!” Maya gave her a serious look, in mock consternation, before answering her. “It’s just sound legal... strategizing!” The old friends both laughed.
“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d think that you’re imitating me,” Grace said.
“You know I love you. I wanted to pick your brain on this case,” Maya told her, starting to get a look of seriousness now.
“So what do you think the DA has?” Maya turned serious now, as she began filling Grace in on the DA’s offer.
“Well, is the DA making up the part about your client being suicidal?” Grace asked after Maya had brought her up to speed.
“I’m pretty sure they are. I tried to have the wife interviewed, but she shut us down as soon as Roger showed her his card. So we won’t know what she’s got to say, I’m guessing, until they ambush us with it at trial.”
“Oh,” Grace said, her face lighting up. “You got Roger assigned to the case? How’d you pull that off?”
“I’ll never tell,” Maya said with a coy smile before breaking into a big grin.
“You know, I think he’s the best investigator we’ve got. Since Roberto retired, at least.”
“Grace?” Maya retorted, pausing a moment for effect, “You do know, since Roberto retired, he’s the only investigator we’ve got.” They both laughed again before falling silent.
“Well maybe they are hiding something,” Grace said at last, breaking the silence. “Who’s the DA by the way?”
“Gevorkian. Paul Gevorkian. You ever have to deal with him?”
“Lil’ Dick? Of course I have. You know he’s hiding something because he was an OC prosecutor before he transferred up to LA,” Grace said, matter-of-factly. “It’s not his fault. That’s probably how they raised him down in that office. Maybe someday, they’ll just build a bypass county. You know, so we can get down to San Diego for a weekend away every once and a while without having to pass through. Anyway, what do you think it is exactly? That he’s hiding?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I mean I’m pretty sure David wasn’t trying to crash his car. There was no murder/suicide thing. He gave a full statement to police. I have that, and the DA does too. He told the police he was driving down the road and he also told them about that revelation thing. You know, the thing I was telling you about when we were at the ramen place.”
“Do you think Gevorkian might just be bluffing and not really have anything?” Grace asked.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Maya answered. “Either that, or he’s setting up to ambush us. Maybe he’ll spring jail calls on us at the last minute? They probably have my guy recorded talking to his wife. Actually on second thought, I’m pretty sure he’s not talking to his wife. The DA’s going to try to pull something out of their collective ass. I can feel it. I’m just not sure what.”
“That’s not exactly what I was thinking,” Grace answered. “At least, that’s not how I would phrase it.”
“You are so damn polite Grace. It’s maddening. But, you know…” Maya told her with a wink, “…I know your secret.”
“Oh, do you?” Grace almost laughed out loud. “I have a secret now?”
“Sure do. I snuck in and watched you… when you were in trial once. You know, when you weren’t looking.”
“Maya?” Grace asked, trying to keep a straight face. “You do know—it is a public courtroom right?”
“I watched you eviscerate a DA witness on the stand. The judge even tried to mess with you. He cut you off and stopped your cross for five minutes…just because the witness ran out of kleenex!”
“Twice,” Grace added, with just a hint of pride in her voice.
“Twice. Yes!” Maya told her. “You lull them with that sweet charm of yours, and then when they lie—boom! You are tough as nails.” Coming from Maya, it was the highest compliment, and Grace appreciated as much. “But I want to know, seriously—what do you think Grace?”
“It’s a vehicular manslaughter, or maybe an invol,” Grace told her. “If he wasn’t drinking, and wasn’t trying to kill himself, and wasn’t driving crazy—that’s not a murder. Definitely not a first. They’ll probably try to turn this revelation business into malice. You know, reckless indifference or some such thing. It kind of makes sense if you turn off half your brain.” Grace stopped.
“You’re brilliant!” Maya exclaimed. “That’s exactly it. I think he might just have turned off half his brain.”
“Wait, what?” Grace asked.
“Long story, let me think about it a little. Thanks for the idea though. You are brilliant Grace!”
“Well in that case, who knows? You might just be able to pull a misdemeanor out of this. If anyone can pull it off, you can Maya.” Grace stopped and then went quiet. “You know Maya, I don’t think I ever told you this, but you’re arguably the best lawyer I’ve ever met.” Grace was being serious now. It made Maya uncomfortable.
“Arguably?” Maya answered loudly, as if that would drown out her fleeting discomfort. “Who’s gonna argue about it?”
“Well, I would!” Grace said, grinning back at her.
“Fucking lawyers,” Maya answered, relaxing finally. As she did, they both burst out laughing.
18
“Well, there’s an offer, for what it’s worth,” Maya said to David later that week when she visited him. “The offer is for you to plead to a second degree murder charge for 25 to life. I suppose you’d be eligible for parole at some point, which is better than never getting out again. But still, it’s kind of a bullshit offer. I don’t want you to think just because I’m telling you what it is, that it means I’m telling you it’s a good offer. It’s not, and I’m not. I just have to. It’s my duty as your attorney to tell you about any offers that come in.”
“Ms. Lee—”
Her eyes narrowed as she gave him that look. Hmmmpphhh—let me finish first! she thought, as she interrupted him.
“It’s Maya—” she started to reprimand him, but he cut her off in turn.
“Of course, Maya. Thank you. But are you angry? Is something wrong?”
“Well, yes I am! They’re hiding something. The prosecutor is hiding something. I never did get the m
urder book, and now the DA is laying on the hard pressure sell for you to plead. Oh and I forgot to tell you this one. He’s threatening that if you don’t take the deal at the next court date, he’ll pull it off the table and it will only get worse. Don’t believe that for a minute. Well, I mean, you could believe that if you want to. Technically, he could do that. But I see this bullshit posturing every day. It’s so childish, and no one takes it seriously, I’m not sure why they still bother with the charade.”
“You don’t have to, I mean—”
“I don’t think they even have a case against you,” she cut him off again. “Maybe a reckless driving, that sort of thing. An involuntary or vehicular manslaughter. The DA’s trying to intimidate you into pleading. As long as I’m your lawyer, that’s not gonna happen!”
“Maya—”
“What!”
“You don’t have to be angry. It’s okay.”
“I am not angry!” she yelled back, not realizing she was yelling. “And it is not okay!”
“But it is okay Maya. You don’t have to...” He hesitated a moment, giving her a chance to calm herself a little. “What I mean is, you don’t have to be angry anymore.”
“What the hell!” she finally exploded. “What the hell David? I told you I am not angry! I’m focused on figuring out how we can attack the prosecution’s case. That’s it. And anyway, I’m doing this all for you!”
“Maya?”
“What!”
“I know how frustrating it can be. Listen, did I ever tell you the first thing that went through my head when I woke up in the hospital, chained to the bed? The first time I was in the hospital that is. You know—after the accident, when they first told me Ella was dead?”
“Were you angry David?” she asked, just slightly more gently now. “Because, if you were angry, I’d understand. I’d be angry.”