April 13, 10:09 AM
District Court
Courtroom No. 4
EVIDENCE A small badge in the shape of a sunflower cast in a lustrous metal. Bears the scales of justice printed in the middle. [https://imgur.com/Fd1HrLb.png]
Attorney’s Badge
I worked hard for this thing! I always wear it pinned on my lapel. Smaller than I thought it would be.
A manila dossier with a document poking out of it. [https://imgur.com/49pYbOT.png]
Autopsy Report
Victim’s name: Dr. Nix Kaput
Time of death: Some time during April 12th
Manner of Death: Blunt force trauma to the right side of the head.
PROFILES A young man with green hair and clear blue eyes. Wears a linen shirt with two opened buttons on top, through which one can see a pendant. [https://imgur.com/is283rh.png]
Drake Closer (Age 26)
That’s me! I’m a Defense Attorney. I’ve never lost a case before. (Never won one, either… but let’s not focus on that.)
A headshot of a young woman. She has a mess of curly red hair that is dyed green around her face. Wears crescent-shaped glasses with a rim along the bottom and a lab coat. [https://imgur.com/LL9Nhmr.png]
Georgina Mole (Age 21)
My client. She was a laboratory assistant in a hoity-toity research lab. Now, she’s on trial for murder.
A middle-aged looking man with brown hair and blue eyes wearing a lab coat. He has a thick beard the same color as his hair [https://imgur.com/GSxkC4P.png]
Dr. Nix Kaput (Age 59)
The victim. Once a very distinguished scientific researcher. Now a very distinguished corpse.
A large man wearing a celeste suit and a red-and-white checkered napkin. He has a straw hat on his head, with black sideburns poking down. He's eating a sandwich. [https://imgur.com/TuakEoM.png]
Mash Lumper (Age 53)
The prosecutor on this case. Despite his carefree demeanor, he's a very competent prosecutor with a good case history to his name.
"The prosecution is ready, yer honer." Mr. Lumper barely takes the time to swallow as he talks. He gingerly pushes the butt of the sandwich down his gullet and before any expectation of normal procedure can settle, he pulls out another one and starts to chomp down. That's three so far from a briefcase that looks like it could hold one and a half. It's so impressive it could well be magic.
"Ehm, HEM!" The throat clearing brings my attention to the judge. She's looking down at me from the top of her fuchsia horn-rimmed glasses like she's expecting an answer.
"Oh, right. The defense is, um, confused, your honor."
"Ha HA!" Mash Lumper laughs heartily across the room. "That's a new one."
"Well, Mr. Closer," the judge twirls the gavel between two fingers with experienced ease, "what exactly is it that's got your tighty-whities in a twist?"
Chuckles from the audience. The judge allows them for one moment, and then two. Then she bangs the gavel and shushes the crowd.
I do my best to keep the red from my cheeks. "Well, you see, I appear to be missing some information in my record, here," I produce the autopsy report.
"There appears to be no, um, recorded time of death here. It will be a challenge to prove reasonable doubt for my client when the court documents say he could have dropped dead any time on the 12th."
The judge leafs through her own dossier. "Prosecutor?"
Mash Lumper coughs with a bite halfway down his throat. He punches himself in the chest to help it down, then clears his voice. "Yes'm. Ya see, yer honer, that is because the time of death was impossible to acquire with an autopsy."
Now the crowd launches into full swing.
"Silence! I will have silence in this room!" The judge is banging her gavel hard enough I can feel the room vibrate under my feet, "what does that mean, prosecutor Lumper?"
He looks side to side conspiratorially, then squares his sandwich, banging it on the table a couple times. "The time o' death, ya see… 'tis not relevant to this case. It'll become clear as a belgian blue heifer in a field o' shetland cows, it will." He had a self-satisfied smile through that whole tirade. An ace up his sleeve.
"Very well. Shall we begin proceedings?"
"The prosecution's still ready as a bun with a berry, yer honer!"
Well, I'll have to do this no matter what, and it's not like I'll get any ready-er.
"The defense is, um, ready, your honor."
The gavel bangs.
"Very well. Let's hear an opening statement from Mr. Lumper."
"Yes'm." Mash Lumper —horror of horrors— puts away his sandwich and somehow produces a pristine dossier from the same briefcase.
"It is my distinct pleasure today, ladies n' gentlemen, ta bring to ya irrefutable proof that Georgina Mole," he points her out, downcast in her seat, "premeditatively an' with evil intent, put an end ta the life of one Mr. Nix Kaput, Ph.D."
The judge hms along as she scribbles on a pad. She stops and raises an eyebrow my way. "Defense?"
"Oh, um." I stand up and do my best to appear confident and calm. Breezy. "The defense will prove today, ladies and gentlemen, that not only is it reasonably unlikely Miss Mole committed this crime, it is impossible. We will plead not guilty on the murder charge."
“Bold,” The judge smirks, finishing her pre-session notes. “Very well. Prosecution, you have the floor.”
“Ah, thank ye kindly.” The dimensionally imposing man ambles through the courtroom, leaving a little breadcrumb trail à la Hansel and Gretel. “Then without pomp ner circumstance, alow me ta call ta the pulpit nonno’er ‘an the accused: Miss Mole.”
Taking my client to the stand right away? This… This could be bad. It could set the tone for the entire hearing. He is within his right to call her to testify, but… Looking at the state she’s in, I can’t imagine her making the very best of impressions up there.
Georgina Mole is brought to the chair on the pulpit, where she slumps down. So still, it seems she might not be breathing. Her human statue act is only betrayed by her hand, still flying up every other breath to keep her glasses from falling.
“Very well, Miss Mole,” Lumper reaches over his opened briefcase and retrieves a sandwich wrapped in some old paper. He munches on it as he continues, “Care ta enlighten us as ta yer role in this, uh, research laboratory?”
“Yes, um,” she picks at a random lock of dyed green hair that falls over her face. “I am —was,— a laboratory assistant at Dr. Nix Kaput’s laboratory.”
“And, as an assistant, how was yer relationship with the deceased?”
~~~Witness Testimony: My Relationship With The Victim~~~
“Oh… With Doctor Kaput?” She twirls with her pencil, still looking down. She’s not met anyone’s eye since walking into court. “I had a great relationship with him. Yeah, man. A great one.”
“He’s… Or was my mentor, man. Everything I learned in science, I learned from him. Wouldn’t be the woman I am today without him, man.”
This contrite little girl is a far cry from the cold woman I saw right before she entered the room. Her cold eyes, her demeanor… Was it all a ruse, or…?
“Yeah.” Her red curls sway back and forth as she shakes her head, “This is why I was so shocked to find his body, man. He didn’t deserve this.”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Wait. What? “Hold it right there for a second, please. You were the one to find the body?”
“Ain’t this yer client, Mr. Closer? Ha HA!” Mash seems to get a kick out of the situation. “How is it yer not e’en familiar with’er side of the case?”
“No, uh, I am, but…” but what? I’ve been on this case for all of three hours and am not in a state to defend a basketball hoop against a four-year-old, let alone a person against the judicial might of this court? That’s not going to fly.
“Defendant,” the judge bails me out with a sigh, “Can you please elaborate on how you found this body?”
“Oh, um, sure, man.” Her pencil regains its spot as a would-be mustache, rolling to and fro while she recollects.
~~~Witness Testimony: Finding The Body~~~
“It must’ve been right around 8:00 PM. I was finishing up some experiments on cell signal infil— complicated stuff. Don’t worry about it, man.” She seems smug to know we have no clue what she’s talking about. Her other hand —also impeccably gloved up— comes up and begins to stretch the nylon on her right hand’s glove, letting it snap back every now and then. “Suffice it to say, it was for Dr. Kaput.”
“I had gone into the cold storage area —this is where we keep samples frozen— to get some ice to use for this experiment.”
“You needed… ice?” The judge lowers her glasses, locking her down from above.
“Yeah, man,” She rolls her eyes. “Science is delicate stuff! We have to keep certain reagents at freezing temperature.”
“Anyway, I walked in, and… There he was, man. Dead. Zilch. Pushin’ daisies.” She goes back to looking down, as if remorseful, “Who… Who would have done something like this?”
Hm. This account of events… It all seems above board to me. Then again, it’s not like I know enough about this case to tell if she’s lying. Anyway, the prosecution should let her go now—
“Ha HA!” Lumper wipes the crumbs from his lips with a predatory smile, “Now that’s a good story there, missy. However… That’s more‘n a lil’ funny ta me. Ain’t it the truth, belle, that yer relationship with the deceased were in fact… contentious?”
Uh-oh.
“Now, where did I… aha!” He finishes rummaging through his station, landing on the half-eaten potato salad sub in his greasy left. He raises it up high, and slams it down on the table. “I would like ta enter this ‘ere inta evidence!”
“Your, um, lunch, Mr. Lumper?” The judge’s eyebrows reach for the ceiling, and her glasses fall off her nose, suspended across her chest by a beaded cord.
“No, dangit! This 'ere,” He peels away the oil-stained paper holding the potato monstrosity together, “is an e-mail exchange we dun’ extracted from the victim’s personal computer.”
I immediately spot Georgina turning a shade of green similar to her bangs. “Why don’t we you and I have erselves a bit a’ actin’, huh?” He presses a button on a remote and a scanned copy of the document —grease stains and all— appears on the screens on either side of the courtroom.
“Why don’tcha be ‘Mole,’ huh? Think yer gonna be a natural at that one” He slides the paper to the defendant, who is looking as though she’s only still standing because she’s too frozen to even collapse. “I’ll be ‘Kaput.’” He flashes a hospitable southern smile, “since he can’t rightly represent ‘imself at the moment.”
I want to raise an objection but… To what? He’s not doing anything objectionable. My client flashes me a desperate glance, but Mr. Lumper steps in between the two of us, breaking our line of sight and pointing down at the paper with an equally greasy finger. “Go on, then. Dont’cha worry fer lil’ ol’ me. I have it memorized.”
The girl on the stand takes a shaky breath and begins to read.
“Y-You know I have no other support.” Georgina fights to keep tears out of her voice. “You’re just tossing me out on the street?”
“How many times do we need to go over this? It’s just not in the budget.” Mash’s kind southern drawl replies. He paces, drinking in the attention from the audience, the judge, and —I must admit— myself.
“This is my future you’re talking about! My life! You’re going to tear it all apart.” The paper is shaking in her hands. Is that some actual anger coming through? I look to the judge —Her pen is flying across paper, scribbling it all down. I’m not imagining things.
Mash finishes his tour of the room right in front of Georgina. They’re not looking at the paper anymore. Their gazes are locked. He’s looking for guilt. She’s looking at someone else entirely. “I’m sorry,” he prompts.
Georgina swallows.
“You will be.”
~~~Greasy Transcript added to Court Record~~~
A grease-stained printout with an illegible transcript on it [https://imgur.com/FPaA15t.png]
Greasy Transcript
Bears the record of an e-mail conversation where Georgina Mole threatens Dr. Kaput.
A legible version of the transcript. In it, Georgina Mole asks for something, which Dr. Nix Kaput denies on grounds of lack of funding. Georgina then threatens he'll be sorry he said that. [https://imgur.com/IbWThoS.png]
EVIDENCE A small badge in the shape of a sunflower cast in a lustrous metal. Bears the scales of justice printed in the middle. [https://imgur.com/Fd1HrLb.png]
Attorney’s Badge
I worked hard for this thing! I always wear it pinned on my lapel. Smaller than I thought it would be.
A manila dossier with a document poking out of it. [https://imgur.com/49pYbOT.png]
Autopsy Report
Victim’s name: Dr. Nix Kaput
Time of death: Some time during April 12th
Manner of Death: Blunt force trauma to the right side of the head.
A grease-stained printout with an illegible transcript on it [https://imgur.com/FPaA15t.png]
Greasy Transcript
Bears the record of an e-mail conversation where Georgina Mole threatens Dr. Kaput.
A legible version of the transcript. In it, Georgina Mole asks for something, which Dr. Nix Kaput denies on grounds of lack of funding. Georgina then threatens he'll be sorry he said that. [https://imgur.com/IbWThoS.png]
PROFILES A young man with green hair and clear blue eyes. Wears a linen shirt with two opened buttons on top, through which one can see a pendant. [https://imgur.com/is283rh.png]
Drake Closer (Age 26)
That’s me! I’m a Defense Attorney. I’ve never lost a case before. (Never won one, either… but let’s not focus on that.)
A headshot of a young woman. She has a mess of curly red hair that is dyed green around her face. Wears crescent-shaped glasses with a rim along the bottom and a lab coat. [https://imgur.com/LL9Nhmr.png]
Georgina Mole (Age 21)
My client. She was a laboratory assistant in a hoity-toity research lab. Now, she’s on trial for murder.
A middle-aged looking man with brown hair and blue eyes wearing a lab coat. He has a thick beard the same color as his hair [https://imgur.com/GSxkC4P.png]
Dr. Nix Kaput (Age 59)
The victim. Once a very distinguished scientific researcher. Now a very distinguished corpse.
A large man wearing a celeste suit and a red-and-white checkered napkin. He has a straw hat on his head, with black sideburns poking down. He's eating a sandwich. [https://imgur.com/TuakEoM.png]
Mash Lumper (Age 53)
The prosecutor on this case. Despite his carefree demeanor, he's a very competent prosecutor with a good case history to his name.
The audience gasps and begins to talk among themselves. The judge looks to Georgina, her head tilted. Why’d you have to go and do that, her eyes say. My client, on her end, is just quietly sobbing with her head down.
“O-Objection! Objection, dammit!” I try to make myself heard over the crowd. Their volume is on a steady rise, and there are many looks and fingers pointed at Miss Mole. They’re making up their minds already. I look to the judge with a flail of my hands. That snaps her out of it. She shakes her head looking for her gavel, then bangs it a good few times until the audience acquiesce to her threats of contempt.
“As I was saying,” I catch my breath, “objection. Mr. Lumper. This is, at best, a vague threat. Of what? We don’t know. It could even be a murder threat, yes,” I get ahead of the audience, gesturing with my palms to calm them down before they can get started again. “But even still, all this shows is intent. We don’t try people for wanting to murder someone. We try them for actually doing it.”
I scan to find allies in this room. The judge sees my point, but she’s still on the fence. The audience has bought a ticket to the Mash Lumper storytime jamboree, and he’s more than happy to punch them in. Even my client, Georgina —she’s composed herself some, but her eyes have not left the paper since the recreation finished and every now and then she chokes back a sob.
Mash is back at his spot, legs on the table as he peels open a new sandwich. Hope that one’s not wrapped in more of the same defense-destroying material. “What’re ya gettin’ at, kid?”
“According to the autopsy report,” I fish that out and find the relevant line, “Dr. Nix Kaput died at some point during April 12th. All you have shown is that my client may have had a motive.”
I really have to sell this, now. Breezy. I sit back down on my chair and recline on it, trying to give off an air like I’m not concerned the girl across the room’s on the precipice of twenty to life. “You have established that, if barely. Now, you’ve also got the victim around plenty of people who had access to him during the day, as well as the opportunity to commit the deed.” I buff my nails on my shirt and flash the most confident smile I can put together. “Any one of the people that were in that building could have done it. You can’t put her away for a vague threat made in a heated moment.”
“Ya know,” Mash looks actually relaxed, which bodes awfully. He takes a bite and savors it before continuing. “Believe it or not, kid. After twenty-six years in this ‘ere business, I thought the same thing. Which is why, time permittin’,” he looks to the judge, “I would like to now call my second witness, who caught yer belle in the act.”