April 12, 4:24 PM
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A hairy hand clutches a thick golden chain, shaking from the exertion. The white office table below is peppered with droplets. Sweat. The well-built Hispanic man behind it is gritting his teeth.
"How… How dare he! I have too much riding on this." In front of him is the only light in the room —a blinking monitor displaying an e-mail. “If he finds out… It could be the end of me. What can I do? What is there to do?” Slowly, the shaking in his eyes stills until they rest, perfectly unmoving black pebbles in bloodshot eyes. “There’s no other way. I must get rid of him… Today.” He grins behind his perfectly kept beard and runs his stout digits through the styled, greasy hair sitting on his head like a glob of raw syrup.
"But… how? How can I…?" He's stopped in his tracks; realization. The grin on his face becomes wider, and he fetches a white handkerchief from the chest pocket of his loose blouse. He dabs away his sweat as his eyes glint with murderous intent.
"Right… I can pin it on her!"
April 13, 9:47 AM
District Court
Defendant Lobby No.4
Okay, no big deal. Yeah, no biggie. My first case ever, and I'm drawing a total blank…
I quickly leaf through my dossier. There are so many papers. I've only had them since last night... There's no way I can make heads or tails of them with just a morning of looking at them! Trying to focus on this stuff just gives me a headache. This is not good.
Ah, well. Here's the autopsy report, at least. Should be nice and simple…
A manila dossier with a document poking out of it. [https://i.imgur.com/49pYbOT.png]
Autopsy Report
Victim’s name: Dr. Nix Kaput.
Time of death: Sometime during April 12th.
Manner of Death: Blunt force trauma to the right side of the head.
~~~Autopsy Report added to Court Record~~~
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://i.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://i.imgur.com/49pYbOT.png]
Autopsy Report
Victim’s name: Dr. Nix Kaput.
Time of death: Sometime 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://i.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://i.imgur.com/LL9Nhmr.png]
Georgina Mole (Age 21)
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
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://i.imgur.com/GSxkC4P.png]
Dr. Nix Kaput (Age 59)
The victim. Once a very distinguished scientific researcher. Now a very distinguished corpse.
Let's see… Whoa. Isn't there a lot missing from this?! How did I not realize this before now? Is there a supplement somewhere I didn't catch?
"Hey, man. Everything hangin' ok, man?"
"Gah! Didn't see you there," I look up at the mousy-looking woman —girl, really— in front of me. She's my client… I think. Wow, yeah. I'm really in the dark here.
"Hey, um…" I start. What's her name again? I peruse the court documents. Aha! "Miss Mole. How are we feeling?"
"Please, call me Georgina, man," the young adult reaches a slim gloved hand out of the too-big lab coat she wears and pushes her thick half-moon glasses up. No matter how hard she tries, she can't get them to stay up, though. They slide down her nose a moment after being adjusted. If she'd stop looking down, maybe those glasses would stay up. She'd also look less guilty of murder.
"I-I think we've got this, man. I-I mean, you're the only attorney who would take my case for what I can afford to pay, so I don't have much hope, but…. It will be okay, right? It has to be okay, man."
"Y-yeah.. of course." Ouch.
Really exuding confidence there, man. It's not like I took the case out of the goodness of my heart. I mean, a murder case for a debut? That's some crazy stupid talk. No, I took it as a special favor to my mentor. She called me late last night. Didn't elaborate much, just said I should take it if I know what's good for me.
I look at the whimpering young woman again. What about you has the boss in such a tiff? Can't imagine she holds any favors over her head… Must be a well-connected kid.
"So, about this murder," I begin, hoping she'll sprinkle some details that might get me started on the right track.
"Oh, Dr. Kaput. Yeah." Her demeanor changes immediately. She looks dismissively to the side now. Her left hand produces a pencil and holds it with her top lip against her nose, like a mustache. She's thinking, I realize.
"I definitely didn't do it, but… the good doctor? He had it coming, man."
That sounds like water cooler gossip at best and motive at worst. This is not good for my headache. I gotta learn more about this before the prosecution can use it against me. As I'm opening my mouth to speak, the guard standing vigil at the door of the courtroom raises his head and scans around until he finds my eyes. The doors crack open shortly after. I can hear the whispering of the audience on the other side. The bailiff begins to usher my client away, who's back to her mopey routine, playing keep-up with her glasses as they slip down.
"Wait a second," I reach for Georgina's sleeve before she can get too far. "What do you mean, he had it coming?"
She dons the pencil-stache again and pulls at a non-existent beard, "I mean, man, if whoever did it hadn't done it…" Her countenance becomes suddenly serious and her eyes unfocused, as if looking at the void. Through crescent lips, she chuckles, "I might've."
As the double doors fully open and I get a look at my first solo courtroom, I feel my headache turn into a migraine.
April 13, 10:02 AM
District Court
Courtroom No.4
A pall falls over the room as the judge takes her place on the presiding chair. I've been to a courtroom before, of course —just always with my mentor. On my own, the grand oaken room with chunky decor feels… oppressive. I swallow thickly and make my way over to my stand.
High above, behind wooden railings, the audience whispers back and forth. I notice more than a few glances thrown my way. I'm suddenly the most self-conscious I've ever been. Is my outfit okay? It's unconventional, maybe, and definitely not form-fitting, but it's the best apprenticeship money can buy. I tug at the billowy linen shirt. Maybe the extra open button was a bit much after all. But that's the point. I'm supposed to be breezy. The lawyer you pay and the friend you trust. Gotta project an air of confidence.
Air? Hang on. Have I been breathing? Actually, I may have forgotten how to breathe. Well, guess that's it. Here ends the tale of… what even is my name? Why am I here? I think I'm about to pass ou—
"Mr. Drake Closer," the judge's voice booms. From the sound of it, she might've been calling me for a while. "Is the defense ready?"
"Oh? Umm —are we starting already?" I look across the hall to the prosecution's spot where —like he's always been there— I see a portly man smiling at me under a fraying straw hat. He's eating a sandwich, a checkered handkerchief around his neck. He's got a wisp of a mustache on either side of his thick lips, groomed and pointed upward as best they can. He brings a catfish to mind.
"Ha HA!. Come on, kid!" He laughs heartily. "I know it's yer first one, but yer lookin' a little too green 'round the gills!" He takes a hearty bite of his sandwich before pulling out his black leather briefcase, rummaging around in it, and producing another, identical sandwich. "Here, want one? Potato salad, homemade!"
"No, uh, thanks," I mumble. Is his briefcase full of those?
"Eh, suit'cherself. More fer me, I s'pose." He takes another bite. "Name's Mash. Lumper. At'cher service."
Despite myself, I find my traitor mouth salivating. "Drake. Um, Closer."
"Very well," the judge arranges her robes and bangs the gavel a couple of times. "As long as introductions are done and over with, let this court be in session against Georgina Mole for the murder of Dr. Nix Kaput."