“So, you killed Chad for her?” Carol questioned.
Javier raised his eyes from the table. “I didn’t kill Chad and I don’t know who did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Hunter straightened up and rubbed his brow. “This changes everything. This changes everything about this case, this trial, and our approach.”
“I didn’t want to drag her into this,” Javier whispered. “I needed to protect her. I didn’t want to bring Maggie into this mess. There weren’t many people who knew about us. Just a couple of Maggie’s close friends and my cousin. I didn’t think dating the police chief’s daughter would lead me here. I didn’t think this would happen.”
Hunter sighed. Not only was he being lied to by the witnesses, not only was he being lied to in court, but he was being lied to by his own client.
“Javier,” Hunter said. “You’ve got a lot of people against you. Chief Richardson, the prosecutor, the mayor, the judge, and right now, it appears you’ve got twelve jurors against you as well. This whole city needs to see someone go down for the murder of Chad Townsend, and that person happens to be you. Guilty or not, they want you behind bars. I need every bit of help I can get here.”
“Just because they hate me, doesn’t mean I should go down for something I didn’t do,” Javier said. “You can’t let this corruption racket throw whoever they want in prison, whenever they want to do it. If you don’t fight it, then they’ll continue to do it forever. Chief Richardson will continue to do this.”
“You’re trying to change the subject.” Hunter stared at him, judging Javier’s expression. “And the reason you’re doing it is because you’re still not telling me everything. You’re still holding out on something. What is it?”
Javier looked away.
“What is it, Javier?” Hunter leaned forward. “What else do you know?”
“Nothing,” Javier whispered. “That’s all I know. I have nothing else to say.”
The guard knocked on the door. “Time to go back to prison, Mexican.”
“What is it, Javier?” Hunter pressed. “What else are you hiding? I need to know.”
“Nothing,” Javier whispered and then stood up. He called out to the guard. “I’m ready to go.”
Chapter 29
The following days of the trial moved past in a blur of activity. Tanner was careful with his questions, careful where he directed the testimonies, and careful about who he brought to the stand. With the make-up of the jury, he was well in front, but with every lie a witness told, his advantage slid backward. He brought forward the medical examiner, then a paramedic, followed by another crime scene specialist, people willing to talk the talk and share their expertise. It was established that Chad Townsend died as a result of exsanguination, the loss of blood causing death, after falling onto the concrete next to the bridge in Norwich Park. The medical examiner admitted the strike to the face could’ve happened up to an hour before the fall, however, he said, it was unlikely.
When Tanner called a blood analysis expert to talk about the blood stains found on the shirt and the sneaker, Judge Johnson had to explain to the jury the situation with the contaminated evidence.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Judge Johnson began. “You’re about to hear the testimony of blood analysis expert, Mr. Henry Elbert, concerning evidence he claims to have identified. In considering this evidence for the trial, you must bear in mind that the defense had no opportunity to examine the blood sample found on the sneaker. This includes a third blood stain that was not identified. As such, I’m instructing you on a matter of law. When this case is over, and you’re deliberating on the evidence, you’re to consider not only Mr. Anderson’s testimony about the blood samples found on the sneaker, but also the fact that the prosecution has failed to make the sneaker available to the defense team for further analysis. It’s acceptable to see this failure of evidence as raising reasonable doubt about Mr. Mitchell’s guilt.”
The blood expert came to the stand and provided a sound scientific overview of his report, never straying once into opinion. Hunter objected where he could, and called to question the expertise of the witness, but there was little he could do to cast doubt on the evidence.
Expert after expert followed, and Tanner played his new strategy well—build a mountain of small facts delivered by trusted specialists, in an attempt to convince the jury they must convict Javier. By the end of day five, the prosecution had recovered from their earlier failures and were back on equal footing. As Judge Johnson called an end to the first week, Hunter was exhausted. He sat in his office in Longford, staring out the window at nothing in particular, watching as the sun dipped into the horizon, as the time ticked past 7:05pm on Friday night.
Mayor Bob West was due to hit the stand after the weekend, and Hunter had to be ready for more lies. He had further motions for a mistrial drafted, ready to be presented if Tanner gave him the opportunity. He’d read West’s statement over and over, prepared for everything that was coming. It was the old adage—a lawyer should never ask a question that he doesn’t already know the answer to—but he knew the witnesses in Longford changed their answers on the stand, seemingly with little effect on the case. West claimed to have seen Javier walking towards Norwich Park that night, but there were holes in his statement, and Hunter intended to exploit them.
“No plans tonight?” Carol stepped into the office, her purse in her hand.
“I plan to find a way to win a case,” Hunter said, still staring out the window as the sky began to turn a light orange. “I’ve got to review everything that’s left before the case gets back into court on Monday. Javier is still holding something back, and I have to find out what it is, and why he isn’t telling me.”
“What do you think it is?”
“He’s protecting Maggie Richardson. He knows something about her, but he’s not willing to bring it out in court. He’d rather sacrifice himself for her.” Hunter looked up. “Both Maggie and Chad live on Elliston Avenue, and Chad had no plans to meet anyone after he got out of the truck with Darcy. I think Chad went to the Richardson household after Darcy dropped him off and tried to call out to Maggie.”
“Do you think Maggie asked him to meet her by the bridge and then hit him? The coroner’s report suggested his death was from the fall, so perhaps Chad tried to grab Maggie, and she wouldn’t have it, and she struck him. It’s self-defense then. She hit him, he fell, and then she left.”
“It’s an option, but we need to talk to Maggie.”
“Easier said than done. She’s avoiding me like nothing else. I’ve messaged her, emailed her, tried to talk to her on the street—she won’t even say hello to me now.” Carol sat down on the chair in front of Hunter’s desk. She waited a moment and then looked at him. “I think it’s the most likely scenario. Javier knows what happened, and he’s protecting Maggie. So now you know the truth, and you know that Javier is choosing to go to prison, you could walk away.”
Hunter turned to face her. “You’re saying we have no chance?”
“I’m saying even though I think Javier is innocent, he won’t tell us everything, and Maggie won’t talk. They’re our two best options, and I think the closer we get to the result, the angrier people will become. Without Javier, they’ll direct that anger at you.” Carol drew a breath. “Maybe it’s time you forget about this and leave it all behind. You could walk up to the judge and say your position has been compromised. They won’t fight to keep you in the city. They’ll assign the case to someone else.”
“I can’t do that now.” Hunter shook his head. “I have a chance to crumble the corrupt house these liars have built. I have the chance to take them down, and expose their dishonesty and fraud, and prevent further corruption from happening. This is my chance.”
“I’m thinking about your safety. I’ve grown quite fond of you over the last few months, Tex, and I don’t want to see you get hurt,” she said. “And it doesn’t end with this case. These men have been running Longford
for over a decade. Losing one case won’t stop them. Everyone in the city is against you, and you saw that this week. And even if you do well in court, the jury has already convicted him.”
“The jury. Not much of a jury.” Hunter scoffed. “The main witnesses in this case stood up there and lied, and there are no real repercussions for it. They’ve been fined a few hundred dollars and allowed to leave.”
“Judge Johnson is retiring at the end of the year. He doesn’t care if they review this case and find he acted improperly. There’re no repercussions for him either.”
“What about his reputation?”
“Out here? They’ll praise him for standing up against the system. Even if the case gets thrown out on appeal due to Judge Johnson’s actions, it doesn’t matter. It won’t be his fault. He’ll be seen as the local man trying to go after justice, and you’ll still be seen as the bad guy.”
“Javier is innocent.” Hunter turned back to look out the window at the view as the sun continued its slow descent into the horizon. A number of clouds had drifted across, catching the last rays of sun for the day, covering the area in an orange haze. “Elie Wiesel once said that ‘there may be times when we’re powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest.’ That’s my job, Carol. I have to protest against this injustice. This is my part in the system. The systemic fraud in this state has to end, and this is what I have to do. I cannot walk past and watch injustice occur.”
A silence hung over them until the office phone rang. Carol looked at the number on the small screen.
“It’s the prison.” She answered the call, placing the call on speakerphone. “Mr. Hunter’s office.”
“Carol, it’s Joe,” the man responded. “The Mexican kid has requested a meeting with that big-city lawyer.”
Carol looked at Hunter, and Hunter responded with a nod. She leaned closer to the speaker. “What does he need to meet with Mr. Hunter about?”
“I have no idea, but it sounds like he needs to talk about something. I don’t know why he didn’t do it in court, but he should’ve. He says he forgot to tell Mr. Hunter something. He says it’s important.”
Hunter wrote a time on a piece of paper.
“Mr. Hunter will be down there tomorrow at 1pm. Thank you, Joe. Have a good weekend,” Carol responded, and ended the call. She looked to Hunter and smiled. “That’s a good sign. Perhaps he’s come to his senses, and he’s ready to tell us everything he knows. No more lies.”
“I hope so.”
“This could be the end.” She stood. “But don’t push him too hard. The kid’s been through a lot. Go easy on him.”
Hunter nodded.
“And don’t drive yourself insane with work over the weekend. Javier still needs you on Monday morning.” She stepped towards the door. “If you need me, call me. Understand?”
“Thank you, Carol.”
She left Hunter in his office. It was another hour before Hunter stepped out of his office and stood at the edge of the parking lot, looking towards the buildings of Longford. Despite the sun disappearing behind the horizon, the air was still thick with humidity.
Life could’ve been so different.
He could’ve settled down and moved to a small city to defend small-time criminals. He could’ve married Esther, bought a vineyard, and left the city behind. He could’ve had a family of his own. He could’ve left it all behind.
But there was something inside him, a deep scar from his childhood, that made him determined to fight for justice. His criminal psychiatrist brother once explained that his obsession was a way to exercise control over his life, a way to express his own power, as any control and power he had was drastically taken away from him at age ten. Perhaps his brother was right, Hunter reasoned, but it still wouldn’t stop him. He needed the truth.
The closer he came to the end of the case, the more he could sense the threats. There were people involved who didn’t want to see Javier step out of prison, and people who would stop at nothing to see Javier stay behind bars. Hunter considered calling Esther, to download his worries, but he decided it was best not to stress her.
It was time to sleep, if he could.
Chapter 30
Javier Mitchell was left with few choices.
He tried his best to battle against the corruption. He tried to protect the person he loved. He tried his best to keep his secrets. But now, he had been left with two choices—life or death. He was always told that the American justice system was fair, he was told it would be an impartial trial, and he believed it. When he received his American passport as a fifteen-year-old, he was so excited. His father grew up in Chicago and had a brother living in Southern Illinois. Javier left Mexico as a twenty-one-year-old with high hopes of building a bright future full of joy, love, and happiness.
Even when faced with the threat of prison, he thought he could survive. He thought he could do his time, and then live out his days. He considered that he could keep to himself, he could study, and he would survive.
As he lined up to enter the prison yard in one of the dark, narrow hallways, one of the Aryan Brotherhood members moved next to him. He leaned forward and whispered. “You’re dead, Mexican.”
Javier didn’t respond.
“Did you hear me? I said you’re dead.”
Javier turned around. The man was short, covered in tattoos, and missing a few teeth. His breath smelled like he hadn’t brushed what few teeth he had in months. Javier turned back around to see Carlos and Al nearby. He looked at the man, and then nodded to his Mexican friends. Without them, he wouldn’t survive in this prison. He knew that now. His lawyer, the tall American from the city, had requested he be moved to a different prison, but the request had been denied numerous times.
Javier moved forward in the line. One of the guards avoided eye contact with him. That was a bad sign. He glanced over his shoulder. The man behind him was shuffling something under his shirt sleeve.
Carlos and Al were five places back in the line. Javier was vulnerable. He moved to the side slightly, keeping the man in his peripheral vision.
If he could get out, he would run. He would never come back to Longford, or Illinois. He would run as far as he could. Javier saw a sharpened piece of plastic drop down the man’s sleeve. Javier turned. The man smiled.
“Ryder Hall,” a guard called out. “Get out of the line and come over here.”
The man behind Javier stared at the guard, before he turned back to Javier. “You’re lucky that you’ve been saved this time, but I’m coming for you,” he whispered. “You won’t last the week.”
The guard nodded to Javier. His life had been saved. Hall dropped the sharpened plastic on the floor, and the man behind him stepped on it, concealing it from the guards. Hall moved towards the guard, who gave him orders to go back to his cell.
Javier realized how dangerous his life had become. Any day could be his last. He had few options left.
He knew more than he told the lawyer. He knew so much more.
As much as he didn’t want to, it was time to tell the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Chapter 31
The sun was blaring again by midday on Saturday, an August heat that was drowning the air in humidity. Even behind his sunglasses, Hunter had to squint when he caught sight of the sun. He drove into the Marline County Prison, driving into the dirt parking lot, a few streams of dust whipped up by the gusts of wind. Once parked, Hunter left the engine running for a few moments, turning up the air-conditioning, feeling the cool air on his face before he stepped out of the car.
After he loosened his collar one more button, he turned off the engine and opened the door. It was like stepping into a steam room. He could feel a summer storm coming. On the horizon, perhaps fifty miles in the distance, the clouds had become dark and ominous, threatening the land beneath it.
Hunter wiped his brow and continued walking towards the prison. Inside the entrance foyer, the air-conditioning
was blasting strong enough to provide a loud and constant hum in the room. The air inside the foyer was cold compared to the outdoors, but he had no doubt the rest of the prison was sweltering. The guard at the entrance smiled at Hunter. That was unusual. It wasn’t a welcoming smile, but more of a ‘you-don’t-know-what-you’re-stepping-into’ smile. Hunter was wary.
The guard checked his watch. “Just in time, Mr. Hunter.”
“In time for what?”
“Oh, nothing.” The guard laughed. “Here to see your client, Javier Mitchell?”
Hunter didn’t respond, staring at the man.
“I mean, you’re just in time for visiting hours.” The guard tried to explain but he laughed again. “We wouldn’t want you to miss an important meeting with your client.”
“It’s 1pm. Visiting hours don’t finish for another five hours.”
“Is that right?” The guard said. “Well, things can change quickly here. We make the rules, and we change them when we like. I’ll take a copy of your ID while you sign in.”
The guard pointed to the pen and paper on the desk. Hunter checked over his shoulder, before he handed the guard his identification and proceeded to sign in. The guard typed a few keys on the computer, smiled again, and then handed the identification back to Hunter.
“This way.” The guard led Hunter through the security checkpoint and down the hall. He was led deeper into the prison than he had been before, guided down a long hallway towards a meeting room.
“Just in here, Mr. Hunter.” The guard unlocked the door. It was a smaller room than usual. “We’ll bring your client to you.”
The room was tight and cramped, the light harsher than usual. It looked like a former cell. There was a wooden table in the middle, with two wooden chairs around the outside, but nothing else. The stench of body odor was still pungent inside the room.
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