"What have you gotten yourself into here, Tommy? Hahahaha, you're really gonna do it, aren't you? It's no use. We found a key in his apartment. A key to the Smith household. A couple of questionable journal entries. We just came here to share some facts with you." Vesuvio hadn't even glanced at me yet.
"So, you're not even gonna talk to me now?" Vesuvio said nothing. He was still pretty upset.
"Listen here now, Tommy, this case is pretty open and shut. We have a motive. We have items that connect him to the murders. It won't be long till we find that murder weapon, hahaha, that bastard can really pick a hiding spot." Lockheart was quite notorious for having an inappropriate sense of humor. Sometimes no one even really realized what the joke was.
"Are you really going to go forward with this? He can't even pay you. Why are you even doing this, Tommy? Especially with everything that happened after your licenses got revoked." His statement made Vesuvio uncomfortable.
"You know that was bullshit, Aaron. I had...We had nothing to do with it, and you know that now, so spare me your humorless bullshit, and I suggest, if you have nothing else, then we're done."
"Okay, okay, jeez, the mouth on this guy, hahaha. Can't we go out and have some dinner or something? The RR, perhaps?" He was trying to show me something.
"I'm good. Just here would be fine." I said, annoyed.
"Suit yourself, boy. Guess we'll see you around."
They dropped me off near my house. I didn't mind the walk home. I did, however, mind the pathetic attempt at trying to derail my hopes and confidence. I expected that kind of thing from Lockheart, but I still couldn't imagine Vesuvio being a part of something like that.
The next day, I went to the RR at 8 am. Ellis was supposed to meet me later, but I wanted to stop by earlier to talk to Debby. She was Jake's boss; she must have known something. If she didn’t, she could at least provide an alibi for him. Getting an early lead on eye-witnesses was crucial for my case.
When I got there, Debby wasn't around yet, but she already had a new waitress. Her name tag read ‘Alexa’. I called her over and made some light conversation.
“Debby around?”
“Nah, she had to leave for home. I’m her little sister, Alexa.” She pointed at her nametag with long nails. I realized she was wearing black nail paint on her left hand and blue on her right hand.
“Why? Is she okay?” I sounded concerned, but I knew why she had left.
"Well, I'm not really supposed to tell anyone, top-secret stuff, you know..." She leaned in close to my ear, anyway.
"...but apparently the old guy who used to work here murdered some people, so Debby asked me to take over the shop while she cleared her head. She was pretty shaken up. Poor Debs. She kinda liked that boy, too. What a horrible thing." She leaned back as she told me what she assumed was top secret stuff.
"Man, I knew that kid. Who would've thought? You just can never know who to trust these days, can you?" To be honest, the RR was almost not the same without Jake and Debby there.
I knew Debby would have to come back at some point as a witness. I didn't think she realized how suspicious it seemed. Your co-worker is placed under arrest for the murder of three people, and you just run off? If I was her lawyer, I wouldn't have recommended it. Hell, I would’ve strongly advised against it even if I wasn’t a lawyer. It seemed very out of character, too. Debby was a pretty stand- up woman. But you can never tell how a person reacts to a situation like this. More often than not you’re in for a surprise.
“Do you wanna order anything?” I forgot Alexa was still there.
"Uh, pancakes and a coffee, please."
"You got it, handsome." She was cute. The way her hips moved as she walked away from me was quite a nice distraction.
"HEY, is that you, Lynch?!" Screamed Porter, a local around these parts. He used to tend gardens in this area. The Smiths were clients of his.
"I heard you're gonna defend that prick who killed the Smith family? Is that a'right, or do I hear rumors here?" He was way too loud. All 3 people in there could hear him and immediately aimed their eyes towards me, including Alexa, who felt a little betrayed.
"Well, you know what they say. Innocent until proven guilty. Plus, no one really has any confirmation whether…" While I was trying to say something generic enough that would get him off my back, he had already taken a seat in front of me.
“You know the rumors, don’t ya?” He was missing a lot of teeth.
“Enlighten me.”
"He was a queer. Darren rejected his ass, and that's why he killed ‘em. And then the bastard killed poor Johnny and Karen; god bless their souls. It's a disgrace, I tell you. That queer bastard should be hanged in public; why, I'd do it myself, some old-school justice is what we need." He was spitting on me as he rambled on.
"Hey, Porter, you know how much I love talking to you, right? I have a meeting; we'll continue this some other time." And right on time was Ellis. Thank god.
"Inspector Ellis, I see you have arrived, as well." Porter shook his hand; he gripped it tightly. I could hear it. Porter was a pretty skinny guy compared to Ellis. Ellis was tall, almost six foot four, military cut hair, and ever since his retirement, he'd really given into the Harley lifestyle. He probably showered in that leather jacket of his, and I was 90% sure he'd told his bike that he loved her more than once.
“Morning.”
“These people already want his head on a stake. Can you believe this guy?” I was quite upset. “Do you have good news?”
“Well.” He had a slight grin on his face.
“Shoot.”
"So, I tracked him back to his school and anything in the local papers. There wasn't much to go on there. P.D's weren't really in the mood to share confidential information. This isn't easy stuff, you know." He was leading me on. Ellis usually was the kind to give you the bad stuff first and then move onto the good news. I was quietly looking at him as he pulled out a file and slid it over towards me.
"Can I get you anything?" Alexa had arrived with my breakfast; she wasn't as jolly to see me this time around. But I was okay with that.
"Just coffee, sweetie, thank you."
I grabbed the file and flipped through. It had most of the things I'd expected. I kept flipping through as nothing really sparked my attention. But then I got to the last three pages. I looked at Ellis, and he was already looking at me, waiting for me to look up and say something.
Local police authorities detain a 7-year-old child after a scissor attack.
A FIVE-year-old boy is fighting for his life after what a hospital doctor described as the "worst case of suspected child beating" he'd ever seen.
The boy is reported to be on a life-support machine with brain damage after allegedly being cut with scissors. The culprit, 7-year-old Jake Truck, threatened to attack his teachers who tried to intervene to stop the brutal onslaught.
Pediatric Neurosurgeon at The Children’s Hospital at Westmead, Adam Fowler, later told reporters:
"I have never quite seen anything like this in my entire professional career. The boy, Percy, is fighting for his life because of all the blood he’s lost. I have no words.”
He revealed the boy now had an "army of medical professionals" on his side as he fights for his life in hospital.
"Apparently, this isn't an isolated incident, either. Happened again a couple of years later after this kid was sent to 4 different counselors and psychiatrists. He was in a mental hospital when he was twelve, too. There's a whole bunch of these articles. Jake Scissorhands they called him." Ellis finally got his coffee, smiled at Alexa, who smiled back just as she had smiled at me.
“And, get this. I tried talking to the mother. Olivia Truck. The interior designer, right? Bullshit story. His mother died when he was 4. His dad remarried pretty soon after. Olivia Truck is his stepmother. She’s a housewife, still lives in Australia with the father. Mr. Truck. So, apparently, there’s a lot your boy hasn’t told you yet.”
I took my Prozac ou
t of my pocket and took 2 pills, and gulped them down with my coffee. I had lost my appetite.
“So Darren lied too? Why would he lie about what Jake’s mom did?” And then it hit me. Maybe Darren was trying to get Jake away from there, make him start fresh. Something along those lines. As I pondered, I was beginning to doubt everything Jake had told me so far. Was his whole medical school story even real?
"On the bright side, apart from those couple of incidents, Jake was pretty straight edge after that. He did end up going to medical school in Sydney. I don't think he finished. I'm still working on that. But there doesn't seem to be any more scissor attacks." Ellis was a little concerned, looking at me. I was flustered. I felt like the sun had suddenly gotten a bit too close to our planet, and it was soon going to be lights out.
“Champ? You all right? You need water or something?
"I'm all right. Plus, I think the waitress hates me now. I just don't understand why he'd lie to me. I don't think he did it. Trust me, Ellis, I know what you're going to say. These sociopath types are programmed to make you sympathize with them; they play with your emotions and whatnot. This wasn't it. This guy is for real." I put my index and middle finger on my temple.
“I need to think. I have to be in court with this guy in a couple of hours and this shit now. Fuck me.” I was getting stressed. This wasn’t going well.
"Is he paying you?" Ellis thought I was a pretty smart guy until I told him he wasn't. He wanted to laugh in my face, but he was too nice for that.
"Why did you take the case? You know you could've been the one putting him behind bars. Well, that is if he did do it. But I don't know, Tommy. If the DA gets a hold of this, they're gonna have a field day. Trust me, I'm never one to undermine myself, but if I could get a hold of this stuff, those guys can too." He wasn't wrong. How would I sell it to the jury?
“Thanks, Ellis. I have to go see Bob.” I remarked with an anxious sadness Ellis picked up on.
“Best of luck, champ. I’ll call you tomorrow if I find anything else.”
I got up and left the RR. My head was spinning, and I felt like the world was flat for a second. I thought about Aaron and his smug laughter. I thought about Vesuvio and his silence. Maybe he was worried about me.
He knew I had gotten myself into the same shit again, and he wasn't going down with me this time. But after all that had happened, my gut still told me that he didn't do it.
I made it to court on time. The lineup had Jake’s number at twenty-seven. The first-appearance court was usually a large room with boardroom-size tables.
It was designed for several lawyers to be seated at once and prepare their cases. I had to meet Jake before we were set up. I knew we wouldn’t have a lot of time. There was a lot that was going through my mind.
It was awkward for me when I saw him, but I had to keep a straight face and get over this. I'd have more time to prepare later.
"Hey, you ready?" Jake nodded. He looked like he was ready. There were many questions I had, but I wasn't going to waste my time with all that now.
“When was the last time you saw Darren?”
“I don’t remember. I think we met a couple of days before that day.” He looked unsure.
“Listen, Jake. I told you before we started this. You have to be honest with me. Don’t lie to me. I’ll be honest with you. Your case is pretty bleak.
“The jury won’t buy your story, and the DA will find your past and do everything in their power to use it against you. I can help mold your truth into something the jury will accept. You have to help me help you, Jake.”
He didn't say anything; he just nodded. I hoped he understood.
It was going to be our turn soon.
As we left, the judge's words were nothing I hadn't expected: Jake was charged with murder in the first degree. A bit farfetched, but I had already expected this from Bob. He needed this.
That poem Marie had left me came to mind again. It was the only thing I could think about during the hearing.
I looked at Vesuvio and Lockheart, constantly whispering, making notes. It was the first time I was seated alone. I would have to get used to that. It wasn't really a problem; it just felt a little lonely. I had Jake, I thought. Jake Scissor- hands.
***
Bob's office was well lit. The curtains were parted to let in just enough sunlight to illuminate the whole room. I sat right in front of him, bearing witness to a partially disappointed stare—Marie's poem.
"So you're going ahead with this? I have to ask why? Especially after that Brown Hound fiasco a couple of years ago, it seems like you've let yourself run along those lines again.
“I thought you were the smart one, between the two of you, no offense Vesuvio, but I had high hopes for you. That's not to say you won't have your chance again.
“I don't know whether this was another act of defiance, or maybe you actually believe this man is innocent. But we have finger-prints all over Darren's sweatshirt. They're his. What do you think is happening here? Do you really believe what he's telling you?"
Some of what Bob said was a genuine concern; some of it was him actually wondering why I did what I did.
“Listen, Tommy. I love you. You’re like a son to me. Both of you are. And I hate to see any of you make any mistakes. Not again. Do you really want another brown hound on your hands? You’ll be scouring the courts to represent dead-end cases for years before you get something good enough to make it worth your while.
“Do you really want that life? I know your father wouldn’t have wanted this for you.” I clenched my fist at the memory of my father.
"Well. We'll just have to find out in court, won't we?" I looked him straight in the eye. He was disappointed.
“Is that all?”
"Tommy, just take a day to reconsider. It's still not too late to get this guy some legal representation." It was his last course of action—a last plea of sorts. To get me back on his side, but I had already made up my mind.
“See ya.”
I checked PACER on my way home. PACER stood for Public Access to Court Electronic Records database. It beat physically finding old case files. This also lets prosecutors find any potential conflicts of interest that could arise later on. It was a great resource.
I needed to start looking into other potential suspects, motives, and people. There must have been something going on there. I got a call from Ellis. Just the voice I needed to hear.
“Hey, where are you?”
“Just got out of a meeting with our mutual friend. Have anything for me?” I was hopeful. Ellis rarely disappoints.
"Darren and Jake spent a lot of time together from what I found out. They were pretty close. A lot of Smith's relatives and neighbors can testify to the fact that they were really great friends. But I think there was something more happening between them." I had understood his implication. I had already considered that possibility.
“He denied it when I asked him. Pretty straightforward with that. But I don’t know why he would lie -- if he was lying.”
“I think you need to sit down with your client and have a heart to heart.”
"Can you do me a favor? Look into the Smith family. John and Karen. They were pretty sweet folks, but there must be something fishy there. I'll meet you in a couple of days."
“See you then, champ.”
***
I was about twenty miles away from Tracy. I needed some help, and she was the only person I could go to now.
“Drop me off at Stetson.”
Chapter 4
Back to where it all began. I loved those old Mediterranean, revival-style buildings. It was right up my alley. I fell in love the first day I came here.
I knew the whole campus like the back of my hand—all twenty-one acres of it. Stetson was Florida's first law college. It also graduated the first female attorney back in 1908. Soon, it would graduate another extremely talented attorney, Tracy.
We met during my senior year at a party. We were by th
e pool, high out of our minds talking about Leopold and Loeb. A popular topic of discussion for juniors. A subject fascinating for many reasons and messed up for just as many reasons. Anytime you talk to a regular person about Leopold and Leob, you're bound to come across Neitzche's philosophy being the sharp wind that pushed those boys into a delusion so deep that they murdered a 14-year-old boy.
You could also be introduced to a masterpiece known as 'Rope' directed by Alfred Hitchcock. But the fascinating thing about the whole story was Clarence Darrow. He was their defense attorney and, at the time, was probably the most popular criminal defense attorney in the country.
Having his clients plead guilty worked well with the jury and the judge. His closing argument lasted twelve hours. Twelve bloody hours, this man went on and on about war and public opinions and Persian poets.
I wished I was there in that court. I would've stayed those twelve hours just to know what that must have been like. In the end, he succeeded in convincing the judge and jury to drop the death penalty. Both boys were sentenced to life.
***
“Tracy?”
"Tommy, oh my god!!" Tracy came in for a big hug, how I loved her warm embrace. I had forgotten the last time someone hugged me.
“How are you? When are you getting out of this place?”
"Soon enough, what brings you around this part of Tampa? Practical law, nothing like the mock trials you used to ace?" She was mocking me. It was funny to me.
“Something like that. I’ve gotten myself in a bit of a pickle. I need your help.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s a long story. You got an hour or two?”
“Sure. Let me buy you a coffee.”
Tracy always dressed the part. Like she could be called into court at any point. She was wearing a blue skirt and a white shirt over it. She was wearing her hair up; she liked it like that. I always told her she should embrace her bald patches and shave it off.
The Brown Hound Page 3