He paused, staring down at the paper in his hand for a moment before unfolding it and reading down through the document.
Kind representative of Mayer, Summers and Soul;
It has come to my attention recently that a person/ persons at your firm has come into contact with my case file after my information was sent to you via the District Attorney.
Lavish as it is for me to have a fan, I feel it necessary to inform you that I have plead guilty to the majority of the crimes to which I am accused.
Likewise I am sure you are aware that I am expected to spend the remainder of my short life in a maximum security upstate while awaiting execution.
You above anyone understand how unacceptable this is. I have grown to regard Coral Beach and this place with fondness and do not wish to leave any more than I wish for my life to end.
Ordinarily I would be appalled at admitting this, but I find myself overcome with fear at the idea of my death. I do not want to die, sir or madame. I wish to live and to learn of the world around me, albeit through the bars of a gilded cage. I wish to fight the death penalty sentence as well as my conviction. As such, I will require the services of a lawyer.
Understand that despite all accounts, I do have the means with which to compensate you handsomely.
Sincerely, Adam Genblade.
He stared at it for a moment, his eyebrows getting lower and lower as something in the back of his mind ached at him. His lower lip quivering, he lay the letter flat against Natasha’s desk and grabbed a blank sheet of paper, laying it over the top so that it covered all but the first letter of every paragraph and then read it again.
“KILL YOU.
Sincerely, Adam Genblade.”
Balking, he stepped back from the desk and grabbed the box by both sides, getting his head back over it just in time before he started to vomit again.
Megan Greene sat in her office, head buried in her hands. She’d been a lawyer for a long time and had come up against some of the hardest killers in this country. She had taken pride in the fact that she had put them all behind bars, without remorse or a second thought.
Now she sat at her desk wringing her hair between her fingers, questioning the innocence and guilt of them all. Questioning a promise she had made nearly a decade ago.
There’s a school of thought you learn in law school. It’s an emotional void that each lawyer must find to defend a client that you may not believe is completely innocent, or maybe even just flat-out guilty. Or in Megan’s case, accusing someone she’d believed innocent. She’d made a promise to her best friend ten years ago that she would never let the ‘emotional void’ consume her. She kept reliving the conversation she’d had with her friend, one of their last. He’d told her to live life with ‘no regrets’. To never look back, and to always approach the future with a positive spin on the past. Come to think of it, that was the last time she’d seen him before he died. She’d wondered more than once since why no one had ever tried to put cancer to death.
But this young man, this Xander Drew, had lost everything to the madman known only as Genblade... and yet he forgave. Defended, even. As she struggled to wrap her mind around that, she also started to see things differently. Something twitched in the back of her mind and wouldn’t let go. She saw a way that Genblade might not be guilty.
“Hello?” came a familiar voice from the doorway. She looked up at the door, even though she didn’t need to to know that it was Tony. “How you holding up?”
“I’ve been better,” Megan revealed, frowning.
“Don’t stay in too early tonight, okay?”
“You mean too late.”
“No, too early. It’s past midnight.”
Megan stared down at her watch in shock, then re-buried her face in her hands and pretended to scream. She raised her head again to see Tony about to leave. “Tony?” Megan asked, her voice following him.
“Yes?” he turned, opening the door again.
She paused, turning from him and then looking over the files and folders and documents she spent weeks preparing for Genblade’s prosecution. “I can’t do this anymore.”
He frowned. “Megan, you’ve had a rough day. Every lawyer wants to quit after what you’ve just gone through. It’s perfectly normal. You’ll be fine in the morning.”
“I don’t want to quit being a lawyer,” Megan blurted, saying the words before she realized what she was saying.
A puzzled look came over Tony. “What do you mean then?”
“I want off the case. Genblade’s innocent.”
Mike held Cathy close to him, rocking her back and forth. It had taken hours, but he had finally gotten her to go to sleep.
Her parents had called to tell him that she was at her grandparent’s home, hoping that maybe he’d be able to sooth her. She lay with her head on his lap, still sobbing in her sleep. His jeans were soaked with two little puddles from where she had cried herself to sleep again, but since then she’d tapered off.
As he watched, he wondered what she was dreaming of. He saw her expressions change rapidly, guessing that they weren’t happy dreams. So, his sleepless mind thought, it’s official. Genblade has infested every aspect of our lives, right down to our nightmares.
He forced his mind to stray from Genblade, wondering if Xander had been able to keep the Black Womb at bay for another night. He guessed that they would find out in a few short hours. At that moment, the sleeping form of Cathy Kennessy outstretched her arms and wrapped them around Mike, squeezing him tightly. He smiled, brushed her hair back behind her ear, and kissed her.
“I’m coming!” Xander growled angrily as the knocking at his front door continued, groggily walking down the stairs. His eyes were bloodshot and baggy, his hair poofing off on either side so much so that it almost stood on end. He was wearing an old, loose T-shirt over pajamas that he’d had since he was in grade six, with ruts in the knees and that only came down to his shins.
The knocking continued even after he shouted, a steady rap of knuckles against wood.
“I swear by all that’s fucking holy, Mike, this had better be good after the shit I’ve - -” he opened the door fast, and as soon as he did his scowl loosened.
Megan Greene raised an eyebrow at him, a small smile twitching along the side of her mouth.
Xander squinted at her, leaning his head out the door to see if there was anyone else there.
“May I come in?” she asked finally, clutching her briefcase close to her chest. She looked him up and down, smiling again at his appearance.
Xander frowned, then stepped out of the way. He waited for her to enter and then closed the door behind her, turning on the hall light. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Wanted you to know I quit the prosecution after today,” she said, taking a quick scan of the home before turning to meet Xander’s gaze head-on, smiling her very best smile.
Xander tilted his head, unsure what to make of the information. “The case against Genblade is being put on hold?”
“No, the D.A.’s taking over. I quit the office after that mess at the courtroom today.”
“Can’t say I blame you. I’d quit if I could.”
“Why?” she asked quizzically, unable to hide her grin.
“Today was just ridiculous. That was probably the worst day I’ve had in a long time. Maybe ever,” he said, almost smiling himself. “I mean, besides the fight, just sitting next to him is like some kind of slow, nagging torture. Well, you must know. You’re quitting.”
“Not quitting,” she said, handing him the briefcase. “Switching sides.”
Xander stood dumbfounded for a moment, looking from her to the briefcase and then back again several times before reaching out and taking it. “You wanna run that one by me again?”
“I think you’re right. I think he’s innocent.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You think he’s innocent.”
“Yes.”
“Based on today.”
“Ye
s.”
He looked at her for a moment, then started to laugh. He laid the briefcase down on the floor and walked over to the stairs and sat, burying his head in his palms to try and hide the sound.
“Something funny?” she asked, taking a step closer to him.
“Life,” he said, stroking his rough-hewn face for a moment before taking his hands away. “Life is funny. And, apparently, insanity is contagious. You’ve obviously got it.”
“You’re one to talk, he’s done the most to you and you’ve been defending him from the get-go,” she reminded him, pointing one of her brightly-coloured nails at him.
“Defending him and believing in him are two different things,” he said, looking down at the floor. His side still ached from the battle with Genblade earlier, the skin over the wound barely formed and threatening to break at any time.
“Why do it, then?”
Xander paused, looking up at her for a moment and then straight at the wall in front of him. “Honestly, I can’t even remember anymore. I think I thought that if I helped him, if I proved myself that much better than him, then I could get past this. That life would become something different than... this,” he paused, then turned to her. “What’s got you so convinced he’s innocent?”
“Gut, mostly,” she admitted, but opened up the briefcase anyway and handed him the folder. “But there was some stuff that bugged me while I was researching the case. I got all I could so I’d be prepared if the defense brought it up...”
“But now we are the defense,” he finished.
She looked at him, smiling warmly and honestly. “Yes, we are.”
He grinned at her, sighing as he felt himself get into the conversation. He took a picture from the briefcase that had been blown up from a coroner report so that a stab wound took over the entire picture. “What am I looking at?”
“Knife work,” she said simply. “It’s not exact, but it can be like a fingerprint for a killer if you know what to look for. Just like you can tell a lot about a person from how their handwriting looks... you can tell a lot about a person from how they use a blade, too.”
“You’re a sick lady,” he stated playfully.
“The victims from a month ago and the ones from this week have the same pattern of wound,” she continued, as if he hadn’t spoken. “They’re angry, quick and rapid, repeating over and over again... eager. Intense.”
“And?”
“Today in the courtroom when Genblade was coming at you with that piece of wood, it was different. No matter how angry he got, his slices were all planned and perfect. The strokes were calm and effortless... happy even.”
“Yeah,” Xander said, touching his leg where Genblade had stabbed him. “I’m sure that’s the word I’d use to describe it.”
“At no point did he lose control of his attack. Ever. It was like the weapon was an extension of his body, even if it was just a hunk of wood.”
Xander frowned, looking at the pictures and then thinking about today. “So the killer from now is the same killer from a few weeks ago?”
“Definitely.”
He frowned, looking down at the floor again.
“Something wrong?” Megan asked, her face concerned when she saw the look on his.
“No, it’s... it’s nothing. Nothing at all. Let’s get to work.”
“We start in a few hours,” she reminded him as she started sifting down through the rest of her papers. “We’ve haven’t got much time to prepare. Believe me, we’re up against the best.”
“All rise,” the bailiff said, loud and clear, his voice echoing throughout the courtroom.
The judge entered from the side as the bailiff continued, then stated to the court: “You may sit.” She eyed the room, and found no trace of Adam Genblade. She breathed a small sigh of relief. She also noticed, raising a hairy eyebrow, that Megan Greene had switched sides and that the D.A., Tony Jones, was now the accuser. She turned to Megan. “Despite yesterday’s... events... the two of you have decided to continue with this... defense. I’m not even going to pretend that I understand why. We’ll hear witness statements now.”
Xander leaned forward into Megan’s ear. “Why aren’t we doing statements?”
Megan twitched him away, putting on a fake smile as she rose from her chair. “The defense calls Harry Ford to the stand.”
Both the judge and Tony raised an eyebrow at this.
Harry got up from the gallery and made his way up to the stand, sweating bullets even though it was relatively cool in the courtroom.
The bailiff walked over to him. “Raise your right hand and put your left on your heart, please.”
Harry did so, gulping hard.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you god?”
“I – I do,” Harry said nervously. He sat down quickly, almost falling off the chair and then righting himself, folding his arms on his lap.
Megan rose from her chair, took a sip of her water, and then approached Harry. She smiled warmly at him. “Mr. Ford,” she began, trying to sound as kind as possible, “where do you currently work?”
“I’m the chief coroner at the Coral Beach Morgue.”
“And your duties as such?”
“I perform or oversee every autopsy for the town.”
“Then you’ve had a busy month.”
“Yes.”
She smiled. “Do you know what the Holy Trinity is, Mr. Ford?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. I help out at my church every Sunday.”
“No, no,” she corrected, raising a hand. “I meant in criminal law. The Holy Trinity in criminal law.”
“Objection,” came Tony’s voice, before Harry could answer. “Relevance, Your Honour?”
“I’m getting to it, Your Honour,” Megan assured her, casting her gaze up towards the bench.
Frowning, the Judge nodded.
“No,” Harry said finally. “I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s basically the three things we use to see if there’s enough evidence to try someone for a crime. We need the weapon, the motivation and the opportunity. Now we knew Genblade had the opportunity to commit these murders, but did the Sheriff’s office ever have you check a weapon?”
“No.”
“Ever ask you about knife patterns?”
“No.”
Megan turned back toward her desk, scooping up the enlarged photos on the knife wounds. One was marked clearly; the other was not. “Can you tell me what these are, Dr. Ford?”
He studied them carefully, adjusting his glasses as he did. “They appear to be autopsy photographs.”
“Taken by you?”
“No, no. More than likely by my associate, Lance.”
“Can you tell me who these people are, based solely on the wounds?”
He picked up each, looking carefully from one to the other. “No, I’m afraid not. There’ve been too many, I couldn’t.”
“Do they appear consistent with one another?”
“Y... Yes,” he said, taking a moment to look at them again before answering.
Megan picked up both photos and showed them to the court, then laid them on the judge’s bench for her to see. “The photograph on the left is of a lethal blow sustained to Liz Taylor, the other a superficial wound photographed by a nurse when Cathy Kennessy was brought to the emergency room several nights ago.”
“Objection,” Tony piped. “Your Honour, she’s bringing in evidence that isn’t even for this case.”
“It will be,” Megan said, her voice low and self-assured.
“Overruled,” the Judge said, looking from one photo to the other.
Megan smiled again. “Now, for the third part... was there a motive behind the murders that took place last month, in your opinion Dr. Ford?”
Harry didn’t need to think about that, as it had been the subject of he and Lance’s conversations of the past few days. “No, there was none...”
&
nbsp; “Careful!” Megan interrupted, raising a finger to Harry. “Are you sure?”
“Well, you asked for my opinion.”
“Yes,” she admitted, “because it is an informed one. But just because we don’t know the motive, doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”
“Objection,” Tony said again, a slight bit of annoyance in his tone and he looked not at the proceedings, but at his nails, studying them carefully for grit.
“Sustained,” the Judge said, banging her gavel. “You can’t make the witness say something he won’t, Ms. Greene.”
“Thank you, Your Honour,” Megan said, nodding once to her before turning back to Harry. “No further questions, Dr. Ford.”
Harry smiled and nodded at her, watching her intently as she walked back to her desk.
The judge appeared to actually take this entire interaction in. “Cross?”
“What’s going on?” Xander whispered to Megan, even as he watched Tony get up and smooth out his suit out of the corner of his eye. “What’s happening?”
“Tony questions him now,” Megan whispered back. “Don’t you watch T.V.?”
Xander frowned, leaning back onto his chair.
Tony stepped up, walking casually toward Harry. He carried a folder in his hand. He held it up to Harry. “Dr. Ford, the defense asked you about the knife wounds on the victims... do you know what the relevance of that is?”
Harry squinted, looking from Tony to Megan and then back again. “I can’t imagine.”
“Do you believe those marks were made by the same killer?” Tony asked, turning to smile at Megan. A shiver ran down her spine as that smile turned to a grimace.
“Objection,” Megan said, standing back up. “The witness, while educated, is not trained in knife-wound analysis.”
“He’s your witness,” Tony smiled, shrugging.
Habeas Corpus: Black Womb (Black Womb Collection Book 1) Page 59