=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
CASE ONE: TURNABOUT PAWNS
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The grandfather clock stood stolidly in the hallway.
“Grr...!”
An older man with scruffy brown hair, dressed in powder blue and orange, stood in front of it.
“Aveit...!”
He punched the grandfather clock, causing the glass to shatter and spray open, revealing the clock’s unmoving gears – with a few obviously crucial holes in their midst.
“You’ve sold me faulty goods again...!”
A fanatical glimmer of hate ignited in the man’s baggy eyes.
“...For the last time!”
* * *
April 23, 9:47 AM
District Court
Defendant Lobby No. 2
Dinah Verity nervously paced up and down the defendant lobby, anxiously fiddling with her crystal earrings.
(I can do this...I can do this.)
“Ah-HHHHEM!”
Dinah jumped. “AAAAAAAAH!”
Mr. Marvin Grossberg, colossal defense attorney extraordinaire, blinked solemnly at Dinah over petite bifocals and a moustache that was almost as big as his stomach. “A bit nervous, m’dear?”
“Nervous? Me? No! No! Not at all! Nervous? No! Of course not!”
Mr. Grossberg sighed. “You lawyers get younger and greener every year. Calm yourself, Dinah. You’ll never be able to defend your client as a nervous wreck!”
“I’m calm! I’m okay, Mr. Grossberg! I’m calm! Calm, I promise!”
Mr. Grossberg looked at Dinah sternly. “I know it’s your first trial, m’dear. And it is a murder trial, after all...A lot of stress to be under. But you’re a representative of Grossberg Criminal Defense Firm here. I know how well you did in law school; now it’s time to show what you’re really made of!”
“I can! I will! I can do this, Mr. Grossberg! I can do this – I can do this...”
Dinah cracked and flung herself on Mr. Grossberg. “I can’t do this! Mr. Grossberg, I can’t do thiiiiiiis!”
“Oof! Dinah! Don’t agitate my hemorrhoids!”
Awkwardly patting Dinah on the back, Mr. Grossberg’s tender heart melted his attempt at sternness. “Don’t you worry, m’dear. I, Marvin Grossberg, am at your service. I’ll be right there beside you this whole trial. It’ll be all right.”
Dinah sniffled. “Are you sure, Mr. Grossberg...?”
“M’dear, you are a very talented lawyer. I’m sure you will do just fine.” Mr. Grossberg tried to edge away, but Dinah continued to cling to his brand-new, bright-orange suit jacket. “You were very fired up about this case earlier, weren’t you?”
“Yes...” Dinah collected herself and mercifully let go of Mr. Grossberg. “The defendant...she’s so young, I just...I have to do my best to get her acquitted!”
“Harumph!” Mr. Grossberg twitched his moustache. “It sounds like you have a lot of faith in your client! That’s good, Dinah. That’s what it takes to win a trial.”
Dinah inhaled and wrapped her fingers around the shield-shaped crystal pendant encircling her slim throat. (Okay, Dinah. Calm. Composed. Serene. Tranquil...)
“Speaking of your client, m’dear...isn’t that her right over there?”
Dinah whirled.
Over in the corner stood a young girl, her delicate face dominated by enormous, piercing caramel eyes. Her pale brown curls were caught up to either side of her head in loops held by bright yellow ribbons the same color as the galoshes on her feet, which were decorated with drawings of kittens. Despite her tender age, she looked ready to bite somebody, which might have been why the rest of the people in the defendant lobby were giving her a wide berth.
(I’M NOT READY FOR THIS!)
Dinah fought down the urge to vomit. (No, Dinah! You’ve been waiting for this for years. Now you’re finally here! Don’t let this opportunity slip out of your fingers!)
It took effort to force her low-heeled boots across the room to the girl, but she managed it.
“G-G-Good morning!”
The girl stared at Dinah.
“M-My name is Dinah. Dinah Verity. I’m your defense attorney.”
There was a long pause. Dinah could feel sweat break out on her skin as the girl’s gaze cut through her. (Dinah...If you can’t handle a little girl glaring at you like this, how are you going to survive in court?!)
“You!” the girl suddenly yelled, pointing accusingly at Dinah. “He deserved it! And if you say otherwise, I’ll curse you!”
It was Dinah’s turn to stare.
(...Um...)
* * *
(My name is Dinah. Dinah Verity. Of course, you probably got that already. I’m a defense attorney employed at Grossberg Criminal Defense Firm, under Mr. Marvin Grossberg. And this is my first case.)
(It’s an unusual one...mostly because of the defendant. She’s fourteen years old. Her name is Circe Chant.)
(Taking on a murder trial as your first case isn’t easy, but nobody else in the Grossberg Firm wanted to take her case. Mostly because she insists that she did it...)
(However, she insists that she “cursed” the victim to death, which can’t possibly be true!)
(I’m certain she was set up.)
(The victim is – was – named Gacher Aveit. He owned a pawnshop called Sauter le Pas, which is where he was supposedly killed by my client.)
(I have to...It’s up to me to prove her innocence!)
* * *
April 23, 10:00 AM
District Court
Courtroom No. 2
The courtroom was open and airy, filled with showers of golden light and dancing dust motes. Murmurs filled the room from the court audience as Dinah and Mr. Grossberg faced their opponent for this trial: Prosecutor Winston Payne.
A slam from the judge’s gavel quieted the room instantly.
“Court is now in session for the trial of Circe Chant,” the judge intoned ceremonially.
“The defense is ready, Your Honor!” Dinah said loudly, gathering strength from the dozens of multicolored folders filled with notes, printouts, and law-book Xeroxes she had stacked neatly upon her desk.
“The prosecution is ready, Your Honor!” Prosecutor Payne said.
His eyes were fixed on Dinah as unnervingly and unswervingly as Circe Chant’s had been. It was very disturbing. (Why is everybody glaring at me today? Did somebody post, “I’m a n00b” on my forehead or something?)
“Prosecutor Payne,” the judge said, sounding surprised. “Participating in a case with another new attorney? This is the fourth one so far this year!”
Payne – an elderly, wrinkled, sour-looking man with a suspicious resemblance to a camel – pushed his large rectangular glasses farther up on his nose with a threatening air. “Yes, Your Honor. So it is.”
His attention returned to Dinah. “Rookie!”
Dinah snapped to attention. “Y-Yes!”
“You should know...your client is guilty. And I plan to expose that!”
Dinah dropped a stack of folders, spraying papers across her desk. (W-What?! Why is he so angry?! You’d think I hit his dog on my way to the courthouse or something!)
“Well, Mr. Payne,” the judge said, sounding a bit surprised at Prosecutor Payne’s vehemence, “I suppose that would be your opening statement, then...?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” You had to say this for Mr. Payne; he certainly seemed driven. “Now, allow me to proceed with a summary of this case.”
“This behavior is highly irregular from you, Mr. Payne,” the judge muttered. “Very well. Continue with your summary.”
Mr. Payne gave a horsey, high-pitched cough and began.
“The incident occurred in the victim’s very own pawnshop, Sauter le Pas. The victim – Gacher Aveit – was in his shop on the day of the murder, and received the murderer herself as a customer. That was when...it happened.”
There was a pause.
“Well?” the judge finally burst out. “What was it that happened?”
Prosecutor Payne smirked across the courtroom at Dinah. “I think I’ll let our wonderful new defense attorney tell you that, Your Honor. Well, go on, rookie. What was it that happened to the victim?”
Dinah opened her mouth and closed it again wordlessly. (Oh no. Oh no. He’s putting me on the spot. I can’t think. Was it poison? A knife? A trained attack duck? I can’t remember. I can’t do this. I can’t do this...)
“Calm down, m’dear!” Mr. Grossberg whispered urgently from his position beside Dinah. “Don’t panic – just look at the Court Record!”
(Court Record? Court Record? ...The Court Record!! Of course!!)
Mr. Grossberg sighed. “Why do rookies always forget about the Court Record? It’s our most important tool as lawyers! All the evidence about the case is gathered in the Court Record. In order to win our trials, the Court Record is our shield and sword! Be sure you always keep an eye on it, Dinah!”
He may as well have not been speaking. Dinah was feverishly flipping through the pages of the Record.
“Very well, Mr. Payne,” the judge conceded. “Will the attorney for the defense please answer this question: What caused the death of the victim?”
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
EVIDENCE
Attorney’s Badge Aveit’s Autopsy Report
Type: Other Type: Reports
One of my possessions. Received from Marvin Grossberg.
The symbol of my career, Time of death: 4/16, 2:30 PM
and the culmination of Cause of death: Heart failure,
all my hopes and hard work. apparently caused by chest trauma.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
PROFILES
Marvin Grossberg Circe Chant
Age: 68 Age: 14
Gender: Male Gender: Female
Chief of Grossberg Defense. The defendant in this case.
A veteran defense attorney, Unfortunately for me, she insists
he is my boss and mentor. that she committed the crime.
Gacher Aveit Winston Payne
Age: 65 Age: 56
Gender: Male Gender: Male
The victim in this case. The prosecutor for this case.
Owned a pawnshop, and had Lacks presence. Generally bad
a weak heart. at getting his point across.
Mal Peccable
Age: 40
Gender: Male
A witness who claims to have
Seen Circe Chant murder Gacher
Aveit.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
“Heart failure killed the victim, Your Honor!” Dinah declared, hoping her voice wasn’t trembling too much. “It was definitely not a trained attack duck!”
“Is that so!” the judge said, surprised. “I see. Very good, attorney.”
Dinah exhaled shakily. Mr. Grossberg seemed to be in shock from the duck comment. The judge did not seem to have noticed.
“Let’s see...your name is...Dinah Verity, is that right?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Very good, Ms. Verity.” The judge nodded regally, and then spoiled the moment by looking confused. “But if the victim died of heart failure, why is Ms. Circe Chant on trial for killing him?”
“Perhaps, Your Honor,” Prosecutor Payne said, glaring daggers at Dinah, “this photo of the crime scene would help answer that question.”
As the bailiff dispensed copies of the photo, Dinah studied the one presented to her intently. It showed the insides of a small, dusty, rundown pawnshop, the shelves crammed with porcelain vases, stuffed walruses, florid music boxes, old tape cassettes, and a huge peacock feather fan. Perched on the counter was a tired-looking cash register and a surprising smart and modern-looking telephone. Behind the counter there were fallen cardboard boxes everywhere, their tops burst open and their contents strewn across the floor. They seemed to have come from the empty bookcase at the back of the pawnshop, and they were resting most intriguingly all across the body of a large man with wispy grey hair and an expression of pain on his face – the victim, Gacher Aveit.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
EVIDENCE
Crime Scene Photo
Type: Photographs
Submitted as evidence by
Prosecutor Winston Payne.
A photograph of the inside
of Sauter la Pas after the
murder. Boxes are everywhere.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
“I don’t understand, Mr. Payne!” exclaimed the judge. “Judging from this picture, falling boxes killed the victim!”
“That is correct, Your Most Sagacious Honor,” smarmed Mr. Payne. “Falling boxes did indeed kill the victim. Mr. Gacher Aveit had a history of heart disease in his family, and his own heart was quite weak. The force of the boxes hitting his chest was enough to stop it and cause his death.”
“But if the victim was killed by boxes, wouldn’t that still make this death an accident, not a murder trial?” inquired the judge.
“It would...” Prosecutor Payne agreed, “...except for one thing. The victim was pushed.”
A mutter ran through the courtroom.
“Pushed!” exclaimed the judge.
“Yes,” proclaimed Prosecutor Payne. “Pushed...by the defendant, Circe Chant! Which brings us to the final point: motive.”
“Yes!” the judge agreed. “There certainly seems to be little reason for a girl of Ms. Chant’s age to go around killing people.”
Dinah remembered Circe Chant’s expostulation before the beginning of court, and blanched. (“He deserved it”...Uh-oh, Dinah...)
“I believe you will find ample motive in the testimony of the defendant in question,” Prosecutor Payne said smugly, sending a caustic glance Dinah’s way. “If it pleases the court, the prosecution would like to call Ms. Circe Chant herself to the stand!”
More mutters broke out around the courtroom.
“He’s calling the defendant!” Dinah gasped. “Mr. Grossberg!! What should I do?!”
“For the last time, calm down, Dinah! You’re making my hemorrhoids shake like jelly!” The image made Dinah nauseous. “Mr. Payne is just going to ask Ms. Chant for her testimony about the murder. You’ll get your chance to retaliate afterward, so listen carefully now and be prepared to strike later!”
“Listen now, strike later,” Dinah repeated. “Listen now. I can do that.”
“Oh, my buttocks...” Mr. Grossberg sighed.
The judge’s gavel cut off any further discussion.
“The court calls Ms. Circe Chant to the witness stand!”
* * *
Circe Chant took the stand with an unruffled anger that she leveled at the courtroom through an impartially accusatory glare.
“Defendant,” said Prosecutor Payne, “please state your name and occupation.”
Circe focused on Winston Payne. “I’m Circe Chant. And I’m a sorceress.”
Payne was silent.
The judge was silent.
The entire courtroom was silent.
“...At any rate, defendant,” Payne said finally, “please tell the court about why you visited Mr. Aveit’s pawnshop on the day of-”
“I KILLED HIM!” Circe roared.
Dinah almost passed out from shock.
“I killed him!” Circe repeated, in case someone in the courtroom had missed it the first time. “I killed him-” and here her hair suddenly swirled up as though in a high wind, and her eyes seemed almost to glow with an eerie light, “-with a CURSE.”
Prosecutor Payne swelled up with toady glee. The judge was blinking rather as though he had just been hit in the head.
“Well, this might very well be one of the shortest cases of my career,” the judge said finally.
“Dinah!” Mr. Grossberg hissed. “Quickly! Strike that bit of testimony from the record!”
“B-But Mr. Grossberg – h-h-how...?”
“With an OBJECTION! Yell it out quickly now! If you sound convincing enough, you can stop your client from incriminating herself!”
This was it. The moment of truth. Dinah steeled herself – lifted her hands – and-
“OBJECTION!”
Her voice rang true and clear throughout the courtroom. It was a massive rush of adrenaline. And before Dinah knew it, she was pointing accusingly at Winston Payne.
“Mr. Payne had already requested a specific testimony, one which this statement has nothing to do with! I demand that my client’s statement be stricken from the records!”
It was amazingly exhilarating. For just a moment, as Mr. Payne quailed back, Dinah felt neither fear nor nervousness. And when the judge banged his gavel and declared, “Objection sustained,” well - Dinah could have kissed him.
Winston Payne recovered quickly, however.
“Very well. The prosecution will continue with its original line of questioning.”
The judge nodded. “Young lady, please testify as to why you visited the victim’s pawnshop.”
Circe glared. “Hmpf!”
* * *
WITNESS TESTIMONY
Why I Was There
“My grandma had given me some old jewelry that she wanted me to sell at that pawnshop.
“She promised we could use some of the money to go and get cookies afterward...
“So I went.
“I walked in and tried to sell him the brooch and the ring...
“He tried to gyp me!! He only gave me half of what they were worth!!
“We argued and argued, and finally I had had it! So I cursed him.”
* * *
Dinah was sweating bullets again, although she supposed she really shouldn’t have been. (You already knew she said she did it, Dinah. So why are you so surprised that she says she did it...?)
The judge pondered. “Hmm...So he tried to buy your grandmother’s jewelry at too low of a price? I suppose that’s a motive for murder.”
Dinah slammed her hands down on her desk, causing all of her many folders to jump into the air. “OBJECTION! No sane person would contemplate murder because of a haggling salesman!”
“OBJECTION!” Prosecutor Payne yelled back, causing Dinah to jump. “On top of being young and impulsive, the defendant is also clearly unstable!”
Circe looked surprised for a second, and then angrier than ever. “Me? UNSTABLE?”
The judge banged his gavel. “Enough! We shall establish the likelihood of this motive the old-fashioned way: through cross-examination. Ms. Verity, you may proceed.”
Mr. Grossberg scanned Dinah’s face worriedly. “Alright, Dinah. Do you remember what to do?”
Dinah inhaled. “Yes, Mr. Grossberg. I expose the lies in the witness’ testimony! Or in this case – my own client’s.”
“Precisely!” Mr. Grossberg exclaimed. “Don’t forget the process: PRESS the witness for more information, and then PRESENT evidence from the Court Record to show contradictions! Contradictions are the key to winning a trial!”
(This is it, Dinah. Your client is claiming she did it...so you have to prove her wrong! I can do this...I can do this!)
* * *
CROSS EXAMINATION
Why I Was There
“My grandma had given me some old jewelry that she wanted me to sell at that pawnshop.”
“HOLD IT!”
There was something preying on Dinah’s mind. “Why were you selling jewels anyway?”
Circe shrugged. “Grandma said they had gotten cursed and she wanted to get rid of them. So she asked me to take them, because I’m good with curses.”
Dinah decided on diplomacy. “The court has seen ample evidence of that.”
Circe actually smiled – a proud, lopsided kind of grin. “Grandma hates curses, so she was glad I was around to take them. She promised me something...”
*
“She promised we could use some of the money to go and get cookies afterward...”
“HOLD IT!”
Dinah stared impressively around the courtroom, suddenly feeling that her question was anticlimactic. “What kind of jewelry were you selling?”
Prosecutor Payne looked disgusted. Circe, however, took the question seriously.
“There were two things. There was a brooch my grandma got from Italy, and a ring her first husband gave her for Valentine’s Day a long time ago.”
“Your Honor, this line of questioning is useless,” Prosecutor Payne said impatiently. “What kind of jewelry the defendant was selling has nothing to do with the case!”
“Please continue with your testimony, Ms. Chant,” the judge said.
*
“So I went.”
“HOLD IT!”
(Maybe this will turn up a contradiction!) “What time did you arrive at the pawnshop?”
Circe pondered. “Just about 2:30?”
Dinah checked the Court Record.
(Maybe not...)
*
“I walked in and tried to sell him the brooch and the ring...”
“HOLD IT!”
Dinah inhaled. This question might prove crucial. “Was there anything strange or different about the inside of the pawnshop?”
Circe looked blank. “Not really.”
“Think carefully, Circe!” Dinah pleaded. “Was there even one thing out of the ordinary?”
Circe thought hard. “Well, there was one thing that was different...”
Dinah caught her breath.
“...Mr. Aveit had a new phone on the counter.”
Dinah’s hopes crashed like a blind bird against a glass window.
“A new phone, you say.”
“Yeah, that was about it,” Circe mused. “It was all shiny and new, too. Mr. Aveit never had stuff like that in his store.”
The judge looked over at Dinah. “Well, Ms. Verity? Is this telephone important to the case?”
(How can it be? It’s a telephone! ...But it is the only oddity I have to go on...)
Dinah slammed her hands on her desk for added emphasis. “Yes, it is indeed, Your Honor!”
The judge shrugged. “Very well, Ms. Verity. The court accepts the telephone into evidence.”
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
EVIDENCE
Telephone
Type: Evidence
Observed by Circe Chant.
A different telephone than
the one Circe has seen in
Sauter la Pas before.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
“Now, Ms. Chant, what was it that happened next?”
“What happened next?” Circe’s eyes began to glow. “Oh, I’ll tell you what happened next...”
*
“He tried to gyp me!! He only gave me half of what they were worth!!”
“HOLD IT!”
This might be a bad question to ask, but Dinah was going to try it anyway. “Only half of what they were worth?”
“YES!” Circe yelled, obviously enraged at the mere memory of it. “Not even half! A quarter! A sixteenth!”
“But how did you know how much the jewels were worth?” Dinah ventured.
“They were my grandma’s!! They had to be worth at least a thousand dollars – no, at least ten thousand!! Offering me only twenty dollars was a disgrace!! Nobody disrespects Cybele Chant on my watch and gets away with it! NOBODY!!”
It might have just been Dinah’s imagination, but she could have sworn that a tremor ran through the very ground of the courtroom at Circe’s ever-building fury.
“The defense abandons this line of questioning!” Dinah said quickly.
*
“We argued and argued, and finally I had had it! So I cursed him.”
“HOLD IT!”
There was really only one thing Dinah could think to ask. “You cursed him?”
“Yes,” Circe replied.
Dinah stared at Circe.
Circe stared at Dinah.
Dinah stared at Circe.
Circe stared at Dinah.
Dinah started to sweat.
Prosecutor Payne sighed loudly. “If we’re quite through with this discussion of curses...”
Circe whirled on Prosecutor Payne. “Are you disrespecting my powers?!”
Even though she was only fourteen years old, Payne might have been just the slightest bit unsettled by her. “The prosecution does not deny that the defendant certainly BELIEVES that she has some kind of power, but-”
“ARE. YOU.” Circe thundered, her hair acquiring mysterious life again. “DISRESPECTING. THE. CHANT. FAMILY!!!!”
Although Dinah couldn’t deny that she was enjoying the confrontation, she was also a little bit worried about what might happen if the prosecutor dropped dead just like the victim. Of course Circe’s curses couldn’t actually be real, but still...
“The defense requests that the prosecution stop upsetting–” Dinah paused. That was not legal diction. She quickly checked a sky-blue folder. “That is, badgering – my client!”
“Sustained!” the judge agreed hurriedly.
* * *
The bang of the gavel echoed throughout the courtroom.
“It seems that we have established the defendant’s motive,” the judge declared. “Ms. Verity, do you have any further questions to ask?”
“Um...” Dinah racked her brains and flipped through her folders, but could see no way of contradicting Circe’s testimony. She had a motive, unusual though it was, and there was nothing Dinah could do about it. “N-No, Your Honor.”
The judge nodded. “Very well. Mr. Payne?”
“Mmph,” Mr. Grossberg muttered. “Well, this isn’t looking good.”
“Mr. Grossberg, sir...I couldn’t find any contradictions...”
“Well, Payne’s been able to establish a motive,” Mr. Grossberg sighed. Then, seeing the look on Dinah’s face, he quickly added, “Which isn’t good, but isn’t terrible either. After all, the court will never accept magic as a cause of murder. It’s the next testimony that will count. Stay on the ball, m’dear!”
Dinah pulled herself together. “The next testimony! Yes sir!”
“By the way, m’dear...are you closely examining all the evidence in the Court Record?”
Dinah looked blankly at Mr. Grossberg. “Examining the evidence?”
“Good thing I reminded you,” Mr. Grossberg muttered. “It’s not enough to just have the evidence in the Court Record, Dinah. You have to look carefully at everything we have, and see if you notice anything out of the ordinary! Sometimes the smallest detail can be a contradiction!”
Dinah flinched. “Smallest detail! Yes sir!”
“Your Honor, the prosecution would like to present this record of Mr. Aveit’s sales for the month,” Prosecutor Payne said, fanning his balding head knowingly. “This proves that the defendant was indeed there on the day and time she says.”
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
EVIDENCE
Sales Record
Type: Documents
Submitted as evidence by
Prosecutor Winston Payne.
A record of objects bought
and sold by Gacher Aveit
since April 1st.
4/01 – Grandfather clock sold/ Mal Peccable/ +$125
4/02 – Antique chess set sold/ Caers Woo/ +$90
4/07 – Indian statue bought/ Naun Descrip/ -$15
4/07 – Grandfather clock sold/ Mal Peccable/ +$100
4/09 – New telephone bought/ Mal Peccable/ -$40
4/13 – Hallway mirror sold/ Jane Doe/ +$50
4/16 – Brooch & ring bought/ Circe Chant/
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
“As you can see, the victim was murdered before he could complete the sale on April 16.”
The judge nodded. “So I see.”
“The prosecution now demands a new testimony from the defendant,” Payne said in his whiny voice, “detailing her actions at the time of the murder!”
“Does the defense object?” the judge inquired.
Dinah thought hard and quickly. (If I let Circe testify about that, she might incriminate herself for good...But then again, what can she say that she hasn’t already? She already claims she did it. Maybe if I let her testify...I can contradict her and prove her innocent!)
Dinah shook her head. “The defense has no objections, Your Honor.”
The gavel banged. “Very well. Defendant, please testify about what happened while you were at the pawnshop.”
Circe stomped one galoshed foot with passion. “Gladly!!”
* * *
WITNESS TESTIMONY
While I Was There
“I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. But Mr. Aveit wouldn’t stop haggling with me!
“He refused my very reasonable demand of two thousand dollars right off the bat.
“Finally, I pointed at him and screamed, ‘I curse the one who stops me from getting my cookies!’ Just like that!
“He laughed at me and picked up the phone.
“Suddenly, he froze. I could see my curse taking effect.
“He wasn’t moving at all. I pushed him, and he fell backwards into all those boxes. CRASH!”
* * *
The judge shook his head solemnly. “Oh, the impetuousness of youth. Killing just for cookies.”
(That’s not the impetuousness of youth!) Dinah fumed. (That’s just psychotic!)
“Dinah, m’dear,” Mr. Grossberg whispered, “do you see something unusual about that testimony?”
“Um,” Dinah hedged, “maybe? I think I do, anyway...”
“Then point it out to Ol’ Graybeard and prove your case!”
“Mr. Grossberg, I would appreciate it if at least one of the lawyers in your firm could learn not to call me ‘Ol’ Graybeard’,” the judge said huffily. “Ms. Verity, you may begin your cross-examination.”
* * *
CROSS EXAMINATION
While I Was There
“I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. But Mr. Aveit wouldn’t stop haggling with me!”
“HOLD IT!”
This very first statement might prove important. “Why were you in such a hurry to leave?”
Circe looked at Dinah as though she had lost her mind. “DUH! I wanted my cookies, remember?!”
Dinah could have kicked herself. “Oh, right. Of course.”
(Dinah, you are getting paranoid! Asking such a trivial thing when you already knew the answer...you’ve got to find something substantial!)
*
“He refused my very reasonable demand of two thousand dollars right off the bat.”
“HOLD IT!”
“Two...” Dinah couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “T-Two thousand dollars?!”
“I was too nice for my own good!” Circe flared. “I should have added seven more zeroes! Especially considering how much trouble he’s ended up putting me through! Dropping dead and sending me to court and all this!”
(No wonder Aveit wouldn’t buy the jewelry!)
*
“Finally, I pointed at him and screamed, ‘I curse the one who stops me from getting my cookies!’ Just like that!”
“HOLD IT!”
Somehow, this wasn’t quite what Dinah had imagined as a curse-casting incantation. “ ‘I curse the one who stops me from getting my cookies’? Isn’t that...a little...vague?”
“Curses are vague things,” Circe snapped. “You can’t decide who they’ll affect, and you can’t decide how they’ll do it. The forces of magic do as they will! A curse is really only a basic change in karma! You add your own opinion to the great balancing scales of destiny and-”
“So, what did Mr. Aveit do when you cursed him?” Dinah interrupted hurriedly.
*
“He laughed at me and picked up the phone.”
“HOLD IT!”
This was new. “So the phone rang while you were arguing with Mr. Aveit?”
“Yes,” Circe grumped. “Right in the middle of our argument, the phone went off!”
“Was this the new phone or the old one?” Dinah asked.
“The new one.”
“And who was on the other end?”
“I don’t know! He – that is, Mr. Aveit - never said anything!”
Dinah got a bad feeling. “What do you mean?”
“Well...”
*
“Suddenly, he froze. I could see my curse taking effect.”
“HOLD IT!”
This story was becoming more and more suspicious. “So you walked in...The phone rang, and while Mr. Aveit was on it, he just stopped moving?”
“NO!” Circe yelled. “You forgot the most important part! He tried to rip me off after I walked in, but before the phone rang!”
(So something weird happened to Gacher Aveit before Circe ever touched him!) Dinah realized. (That means...Either Circe really does have magic powers, or someone else was responsible!)
Circe obviously thought she had made her point. “Anyway...”
*
“He wasn’t moving at all. I pushed him, and he fell backwards into all those boxes. CRASH!”
“HOLD IT!”
Dinah wished she could just wipe this statement from the records instead of questioning it, but she had to be sure of everything. “So you DID push the victim, then.”
“Yes. But I’m sure he was already dead,” Circe said airily. “I just pushed him to make sure.”
Dinah opened her mouth to respond, but as she did, Circe’s statement suddenly sunk in. (“But I’m sure he was already dead”? What if he WAS already dead...? Maybe I can turn this entire trial around after all!)
* * *
It was time to look decisive! Dinah struck her desk with a resounding bang. “Your Honor! The defendant could not possibly have murdered the victim!”
The judge looked skeptical. “Really? How do you know this, Ms. Verity?”
Dinah pointed dramatically. As she did so, her crystal earrings caught the light, sending a shower of rainbows across the courtroom. “Because the victim, Mr. Gacher Aveit, was already dead before she pushed him!”
“WHAT?” Prosecutor Payne yelped, jumping as though Dinah had stabbed him.
“Really!” exclaimed the judge, now looking interested instead of skeptical. “How do you know this, Ms. Verity?”
“Yes!” Prosecutor Payne said, rallying back. “Where’s your evidence of this?! All I see is the testimony of the defendant, which is hardly enough!”
Dinah gasped. (Oh no! Evidence! Do I have any evidence?!)
“Evidence isn’t the only way to prove something, you know, m’dear,” Mr. Grossberg murmured. “The prosecution logged a witness for this trial today as well. You can request to question the witness now if you think that will help!”
“They did?!” Dinah gasped.
The judge banged his gavel. “Ms. Verity, please show the court evidence of your theory!”
There were two choices: guess with a piece of evidence, or gamble on this unknown witness’ testimony. Dinah flipped a mental coin and made her choice. “Your Honor, the defense will show its evidence through a different cross-examination. The prosecution today brought a witness for this trial: the defense requests that this witness be brought to the stand!”
“Hum!” said the judge. “Mr. Payne, do you have any complaints?”
Prosecutor Payne fanned his head knowingly. “None whatsoever, Your Honor. This witness is decisive, and is sure to prove once and for all the defendant’s guilt!”
Dinah gulped. (Is it too late to present something instead? I hope I made the right choice...)
* * *
INTERMISSION WITH THE COURT RECORD
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
EVIDENCE
Attorney’s Badge Aveit’s Autopsy Report
Type: Other Type: Reports
One of my possessions. Received from Marvin Grossberg.
The symbol of my career, Time of death: 4/16, 2:30 PM
and the culmination of Cause of death: Heart failure,
all my hopes and hard work. apparently caused by chest trauma.
Crime Scene Photo Telephone
Type: Photographs Type: Evidence
Submitted as evidence by Observed by Circe Chant
Prosecutor Winston Payne.
A photograph of the inside A different telephone than
of Sauter la Pas after the the one Circe has seen in
murder. Boxes are everywhere. Sauter la Pas before.
Sales Record
Type: Documents
Submitted as evidence by
Prosecutor Winston Payne.
A record of objects bought
and sold by Gacher Aveit
since April 1st.
4/01 – Grandfather clock sold/ Mal Peccable/ +$125
4/02 – Antique chess set sold/ Caers Woo/ +$90
4/07 – Indian statue bought/ Naun Descrip/ -$15
4/07 – Grandfather clock sold/ Mal Peccable/ +$100
4/09 – New telephone bought/ Mal Peccable/ -$40
4/13 – Hallway mirror sold/ Jane Doe/ +$50
4/16 – Brooch & ring bought/ Circe Chant/
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
PROFILES
Marvin Grossberg Circe Chant
Age: 68 Age: 14
Gender: Male Gender: Female
Chief of Grossberg Defense. The defendant in this case.
A veteran defense attorney, Unfortunately for me, she insists
he is my boss and mentor. that she committed the crime.
Gacher Aveit Winston Payne
Age: 65 Age: 56
Gender: Male Gender: Male
The victim in this case. The prosecutor for this case.
Owned a pawnshop, and had Lacks presence. Generally bad
a weak heart. at getting his point across.
Mal Peccable
Age: 40
Gender: Male
A witness who claims to have
seen Circe Chant murder Gacher
Aveit.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
* * *
April 23, 10:42 AM
District Court
Courtroom No. 2
The witness was named Mal Peccable, and although orange and blue may be complimentary colors, the shades he had picked certainly weren’t. He was forty years old and dressed almost as obnoxiously as he acted.
“Hello hello!” Peccable beamed, showing no fear, but distressingly bad teeth. “Glad to be here! Glad to be here! Hey, how you doing, pretty lady?”
This man set Dinah’s hackles on edge. (That blatantly obvious attempt to suck up to me could only be worse coming from a man dressed in orange and powder blue.)
(Oh wait.)
“Will the witness please state his name and occupation?” Prosecutor Payne’s smirk was wide enough to cross a ravine.
“Here!” the witness chortled, pulling an enormous poster out of nowhere with a flourish.
The poster unrolled with a snap, revealing a finish line delineated by a massive red ribbon that was snapping against the windshield of a sleek scarlet car. A technicolor blaze of color against the distant track was all that was visible of the car’s competitors. There were random explosions dotted around the poster for no understandable reason. Splashed across the top third of the poster were colossal letters spelling out: THE RED RACER.
“THE RED RACER!” Mal Peccable proclaimed. “My latest movie!”
“Oho!” the judge exclaimed. “So you’re a director!”
“Not exactly!” Peccable said, his smile just getting larger. “I’m a special-effects man! Those explosions are all my work! Mal Peccable’s my name!”
The judge looked disappointed.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
EVIDENCE
The Red Racer Poster
Type: Other
Received from Mal Peccable.
An explosive poster for the new
Red Racer movie. Mal Peccable is
the special effects man.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
“Mr. Peccable, if you would,” Prosecutor Payne interrupted, “please testify about what you saw on the day of the murder.”
“All of it?!” Mal Peccable exclaimed. “Well, I woke up only to find this cockroach on my-”
Dinah could not hold back a noise of intense disgust, and rather thought she heard the judge do the same.
“Just what you saw at the time of the murder will do, Mr. Peccable,” Prosecutor Payne said quickly.
“Oh, well, why didn’t you say so!” laughed Mal Peccable.
* * *
WITNESS TESTIMONY
The Murder
“I was sitting in the coffee shop across the street, yes I was.
“I looked out the window, and there, entering the pawn shop – a small girl! What was she doing out alone?
“I could see into the pawn shop through its own window, so I saw the girl go up to the counter.
“Suddenly she pushed the cashier!
“He careered backwards and hit the bookshelf, burying himself in boxes. You couldn’t have shot a better murder scene with a script.”
* * *
The judge nodded. “This seems to correspond with what we know so far. Ms. Verity, you may commence your cross-examination...however, be warned that unless you can find something concrete that proves your client’s innocence soon, I will have no choice but to give my verdict.”
“Understood, Your Honor,” Dinah said as calmly as she could.
(I will not lose to this man. I know there’s a contradiction in that testimony somewhere...and I am going to smash it in his gap-toothed face!)
* * *
CROSS EXAMINATION
The Murder
“I was sitting in the coffee shop across the street, yes I was.”
“HOLD IT!”
This answer was probably obvious, but it was best to ask. “What were you doing in the coffee shop?”
“Why, having coffee, of course!” Peccable laughed.
“Of course!” sniffed Prosecutor Payne.
“You weren’t with anybody, or waiting for anybody, or...or anything else along those lines?”
“No, of course not!” Peccable laughed.
“Of course not!” Payne sniffed.
Dinah felt ganged up on, for some reason.
“Now get to the important part, Mr. Peccable,” the judge said impatiently. “What did you actually see?”
*
“I looked out the window, and there, entering the pawn shop – a small girl! What was she doing out alone?”
“HOLD IT!”
(Question everything, Dinah. Question everything.) “Mr. Peccable, could you please describe the girl you saw?”
“Well...” and for the first time, Mal Peccable’s smile floundered, “...she was...small.”
“Besides that,” Dinah said patiently.
“Well...she was...she was...blonde!”
“Anything else?”
“Well, she...she...she...”
“OBJECTION!” Dinah declared. “Your Honor, this witness cannot even identify the defendant!”
“OBJECTION!” Payne protested. “Your Honor, the defendant has admitted that she was there at the victim’s death! Furthermore, the police detective who apprehended Ms. Chant was in the coffee shop when Mr. Peccable witnessed the murder! There can be no mistake that it was indeed the defendant in the shop!”
“Objection sustained,” decided the judge. “Witness, continue your testimony.”
*
“I could see into the pawn shop through its own window, so I saw the girl go up to the counter.”
“HOLD IT!”
At the very least, pressing him on this might frazzle him. “Could you see what went on once the girl reached the counter?”
Mal Peccable almost lost his smile again. “Um...w-why, no. Sadly, no, I didn’t.”
Dinah raised her eyebrows. (I wasn’t expecting to frazzle him THAT much! Why did he get so nervous?)
“B-But!” Mr. Peccable recovered quickly. “I saw what happened next!”
*
“Suddenly she pushed the cashier!”
“HOLD IT!”
The cashier? “The victim, Gacher Aveit, was actually the owner of the store.”
“Was he?” Peccable laughed this off. “Well, I’ve never been in that store before, so I wouldn’t know.”
A little red flag went off in Dinah’s mind. (Wait...he’s ‘never been in that store before’...?)
“Is something bothering you, Ms. Verity?” the judge inquired.
“The defense would like that statement added to the witness’ testimony,” Dinah said on a sudden hunch.
The judge shrugged. “Very well. Mr. Peccable, would you kindly add that last statement to your testimony?”
*
“I mean, the owner. I had never been in the store before, so I wouldn’t know.”
“HOLD IT!”
This was it. The break Dinah had been waiting for. “You’re certain that you had never been in Sauter la Pas, the victim’s pawnshop, before?”
“Never in my life!” Mal Peccable proclaimed.
“You see it, don’t you, m’dear?” Mr. Grossberg murmured.
“Yes, Mr. Grossberg. Yes I do.” Dinah leveled a steely gaze at Mal Peccable. “A contradiction!”
*
“He careered backwards and hit the bookshelf, burying himself in boxes. You couldn’t have shot a better murder scene with a script.”
“HOLD IT!”
O.K., so this wasn’t a legitimate objection. But Mal Peccable’s flippancy was getting on Dinah’s nerves. “This is not a movie! Someone really died here! Do you understand the gravity of this situation, Mr. Peccable?!”
“Oh, ‘course I do, my little turtledove!” Mal Peccable smarmed. “And of course I’m just broken up that someone’s dead.”
(You don’t look too broken up, Mr. Peccable,) Dinah fumed inwardly. (But I bet I can break you still!!)
* * *
“Mr. Peccable.”
“Yes, gorgeous lady?”
“You say that you had never met the victim, Gacher Aveit, before.”
“That’s right, my little ladybug.” Mr. Peccable attempted a rakish grin.
“I find that rather interesting...”
Dinah slammed the Sales Record down on the table.
“Considering that you are clearly named on the victim’s Sales Record!”
Peccable’s suit suddenly turned chartreuse and vermillion, and he let out a high-pitched squeak. “EEEEEEEK!”
“Let me see that!” The judge pulled up his own copy of the Sales Record and stared at it in amazement. “Good heavens! So he is!”
“Three times, in fact!” Dinah pointed out. “This witness has most definitely been in Sauter la Pas before!”
“OBJECTION!” yelled Prosecutor Payne, starting to look panicky. “The record does indeed state that Mal Peccable was in the store...but his last visit was a week before the murder! What does this have to do with the case?”
“Aside from being perjury in a court of law...” Dinah leveled an accusing stare at Prosecutor Payne, “I have evidence that may prove that Mr. Mal Peccable is not the innocent bystander he claims to be!”
Peccable’s suit flashed chartreuse and vermillion again in fear.
“Evidence, you say!” exclaimed the judge. “Well, let me see it! Which piece of evidence is so suspicious?”
*
“TAKE THAT!”
The judge raised his eyebrows. “Mr. Aveit’s new telephone?”
Dinah counted arguments off on her fingers. “First, Circe Chant mentioned this device, claiming that she had never seen it before the day of the murder. Second, Mr. Aveit picked up this phone and then mysteriously stopped moving, seconds before Circe ever touched him. Third, this phone was sold to the victim by none other than the witness: Mal Peccable! Hardly an easy string of ‘coincidences’ to explain away!”
Mal Peccable attempted to recover himself. “No! No!! You don’t understand! I certainly never did anything of the sort!”
“Hmm,” pondered the judge. “I do believe that everyone is innocent until proven guilty. Why don’t you testify again, Mr. Peccable? Tell us about this phone and when you sold it to Mr. Aveit. But this time...” and the judge’s face became more menacing than Dinah had yet seen it, “make sure you tell us the truth.”
“Of course, Your Honor!” Mal Peccable said, hoisting his smile back into place.
* * *
WITNESS TESTIMONY
The Telephone
“That telephone used to belong to me.
“I actually received it as a gift from a coworker who was in the phone business. It’s very high-tech.
“I took it to Aveit because I thought he might need it. And indeed he did.
“It’s a good phone: good loud tone, all sorts of customizable settings, nice and roomy on the inside.
“See? That’s all! Nothing suspicious!”
* * *
(Nothing suspicious, my eye! I don’t suppose dropping dead after answering it counts as suspicious?!)
“Dinah, m’dear, do you recall how I mentioned earlier that you may want to examine some of your evidence a little closer?” Mr. Grossberg said in an undertone.
“Yes, Mr. Grossberg! Yes, I do!”
“Now would be a good time! You have an excellent lead in that new-fangled phone! Take a close look at it and follow the lead to its end...and with any luck, the truth!”
Dinah pounced on the telephone like an eager kitten, lifting it and turning it this way and that in her hands. There had to be a clue somewhere here; perhaps on the power jack, or on one of the buttons, or-
The back panel came away in her hand.
Dinah’s first reaction was mind-numbing panic: (OH NO! I BROKE IT!!) However, a smell wafted forth from the phone to greet her, and it was not one Dinah had been expecting at all: the smell of gunpowder.
A small, burnt capsule fell out into Dinah’s waiting hand.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
EVIDENCE
Burnt Explosive
Type: Evidence
Found inside the Telephone.
Reeks of gunpowder. Found
secreted inside the mysterious
new Telephone at Aveit’s.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
* * * * * * * *
THIS. WAS. IT.
“The defense may cross-examine the witness,” said the judge, unaware of the monumental discovery Dinah had just made.
* * *
CROSS EXAMINATION
The Telephone
“That telephone used to belong to me.”
“HOLD IT!”
Dinah gave Mr. Peccable her best hard stare. “And just where did you get this phone from, Mr. Peccable?”
“Why...!” Mr. Peccable’s smile vanished for a moment, then returned hastily. “W-Why, as it turns out, there’s actually a perfectly good explanation for that!”
*
“I actually received it as a gift from a coworker who was in the phone business. It’s very high-tech.”
“HOLD IT!”
Some details about that phone might be in order. “Very high-tech, you say?”
“Oh yes!” Mr. Peccable said eagerly. “It’s actually the first foray into video-phone technology. It has a miniature camera inside that runs on electricity and can transmit your image to other phones while you’re talking! Very powerful phone. Not many people have one like it.”
(Oh yes, Mr. Peccable. Dig your grave deeper. A phone not many people could get their hands on? You’re finding my evidence for me!)
*
“I took it to Aveit because I thought he might need it. And indeed he did.”
“HOLD IT!”
Dinah folded her arms. “Did the victim own a phone already?”
“Well, yes...”
“Then why do you say he ‘needed’ a phone?”
“Well!” Mr. Peccable seemed unsettled more by Dinah’s vehemence than by the question itself. “Maybe ‘need’ is the wrong word...but, after all, he owns a pawnshop! He likes unusual things like that phone. And besides...”
*
“It’s a good phone: good loud tone, all sorts of customizable settings, nice and
roomy on the inside.”
“HOLD IT!”
Well, that wasn’t a suspicious way to put it. “What do you mean, ‘roomy on the inside’?”
Peccable’s voice acquired a distinctly panicked tone. “What do I mean?! I didn’t mean anything!!”
“You wouldn’t happen to be hiding something from this court, would you, Mr. Peccable?” Dinah asked sweetly.
“NO! Of course not!! Me?! Why would I have anything to hide?! I just...” Sadly, Peccable managed to collect himself. “I work with lots of technology and machinery, see? I like to take things apart! So I noticed that the phone was very sparse inside.”
*
“See? That’s all! Nothing suspicious!”
“HOLD IT!”
This whole evil-eye thing was working really well. Dinah laid it on thick. “Mr. Peccable, your behavior alone is seeming quite suspicious right now...”
“OBJECTION!” Winston Payne yelled, sounding almost as panicky as Mal Peccable. “The defense will refrain from conjecture!”
“I do apologize, Your Honor,” Dinah said, looking as innocent as she could as her mind schemed away.
(Conjecture, Mr. Payne? I don’t think so! Mr. Peccable IS acting suspicious, and I think I know why!)
* * *
Dinah thrust the Burnt Explosive at Prosecutor Payne, unable to resist a yell of “TAKE THAT!”
The judge looked flabbergasted. “Ms. Verity! What is that?!”
“A piece of explosive, Your Honor!” Dinah shouted. “A piece of recently-exploded explosive that was discovered in Mr. Aveit’s new phone! Which was sold to him...by Mal Peccable!”
Mr. Peccable screeched again, as his suit once more reverted to the horrendous chartreuse-and-vermillion combination.
The judge slammed his gavel. “Order! Order!! Ms. Verity!! What is the meaning of this?! I thought the victim was killed by the boxes!”
“Recall Circe Chant’s testimony, Your Honor!” Dinah flipped through a lemon folder, searching for the precise spot. “She specifically said that ‘he froze’ after he picked up the phone, but before she pushed him! She even waited ‘for a minute or two’ to make sure!” Dinah snapped her folder shut for emphasis, and threw out her finger dramatically. “That can only mean that the victim was actually killed by something that occurred BEFORE the boxes fell!”
The courtroom exploded with exclamations and mutterings. The judge pounded his gavel.
“Order! I will have order!!! Ms. Verity! If the victim was not killed by the boxes, then you are saying that this explosive caused the death instead?!”
“Yes, Your Honor! This explosive killed the victim...by way of...”
Here Dinah paused for a moment, thinking very hard.
(How DID this bomb kill the victim? It’s not a very big one, and it’s in the base of the phone instead of the receiver. Bombs usually kill by concussive force...but this bomb wasn’t next to his head. They could also cause burns...but again, it was too far away from him. That can only mean one thing...)
Dinah slammed her desk as the revelation hit her. “Electrocution.”
“What now?!” exclaimed the judge.
“What on earth?!” squealed Prosecutor Payne.
“HOW...?!?!” howled Mal Peccable.
“It is very simple, Your Honor!” Dinah pinned Mal Peccable with her gaze. “Mr. Peccable planted this explosive in this phone, and then brought it to the victim as a present. While the victim was arguing with the defendant, someone called the phone!” Dinah had a sudden flash of inspiration. “Possibly the witness himself! When the victim picked up the phone, the explosive went off...and short-circuited the phone, thus electrocuting the victim!”
“OBJECTION!” screamed Mr. Payne. “Your Honor, phones do not transmit enough electricity to electrocute a person!”
“OBJECTION!” Dinah retaliated. “Mr. Aveit was an older man with a history of heart problems! This is, and I quote the witness, a ‘very high-tech’ and ‘very powerful’ new phone! If it were to discharge all of its electricity at once for some reason – a reason such as this explosive! – then it would certainly prove lethal to a man such as Gacher Aveit!”
“Well...well...” Payne blustered. “How would the witness have gotten his hands on such a thing to begin with?! You can’t just waltz into a store and buy explosives!”
“Perhaps an ordinary person wouldn’t be able to,” Dinah agreed. “Mr. Peccable, however, could do precisely that!”
* * *
“TAKE THAT!”
The fledgling defense attorney pulled from the Court Record the poster of The Red Racer.
“Mr. Peccable is a special effects man! He works with explosives all day long! All he had to do was slip a single tiny pellet into his pocket, and his plan would be complete!”
Prosecutor Payne and Mr. Mal Peccable shrieked in tandem.
“Order! Order!! Order!!!” bellowed the judge. “Ms. Verity! Are you accusing the witness of the murder of Gacher Aveit?”
This was exactly what she was doing, and exactly what Dinah really and truly thought. But called upon to answer in such a definitive way, her courage failed her. “I...I...I suppose, yes, Your Honor...”
“Say it with conviction, Dinah!” Mr. Grossberg yelped. “Do you believe Mal Peccable murdered Gacher Aveit, or not?!”
“I...well, I think so! But I – what if I’m wrong?”
“Dinah, m’dear,” Mr. Grossberg said seriously, “in more things than just court, there comes a time where you have to close your eyes to the ‘what-ifs’ and just leap for what you believe in! Do you believe in your client’s innocence?”
“Yes!”
“Do you believe in the witness’ innocence?”
Dinah gulped. “N...no!”
“Then you have to stand by your truth! Now tell the judge! Are you accusing the witness of the murder of Gacher Aveit?”
Dinah sucked in a deep breath and shored up her shaking legs. (Mr. Grossberg is right!)
“Mr. Mal Peccable!”
Dinah’s earrings caught the light prismatically as she shouted:
“The defense formally accuses you of the murder of Mr. Gacher Aveit!”
“OBJECTION! This is ridiculous!!!” Prosecutor Payne screeched. “This – the defense’s claims make absolutely no sense! What possible reason could the witness have for murdering Gacher Aveit?!”
“In other words, m’dear,” Mr. Grossberg said helpfully, “what was Peccable’s motive?”
“His – his motive?!” Dinah lost all vestige of confidence. “Mr. Grossberg!! How am I supposed to know WHY he did it?!”
“You have to figure it out, m’dear!” Mr. Grossberg said sternly. “Look carefully at the Court Record and think! What contact did they have? What kind of grudges could Peccable have? This is the last hurdle! Succeed, and your client is saved! Fail...and all of your work will have been for nothing!”
(Mr. Grossberg is right...I can do this...)
Dinah pulled out the Court Record.
(I can do this...!)
So Mr. Peccable had planted a bomb in a telephone and sold it to Gacher Aveit, knowing that Aveit’s greed would cause him to use it – fatally. But why?
Aveit’s Autopsy Report wouldn’t be any help with motive; it had no ties to Peccable whatsoever. The Crime Scene Photo no longer described the crime scene, if Dinah’s logic was correct. The Telephone? No, whatever Peccable’s motive for murder was, it must have been established BEFORE the murder weapon had been chosen. The same went for the Burnt Explosive. The Red Racer Poster had been surprisingly helpful, but nothing on it hinted of real life, let alone murder.
That only left one thing. In fact, the only thing that revealed the nature of Aveit and Peccable’s relationship. Hopefully, that would be enough.
* * *
“TAKE THAT!”
“...I fail to see how a list of numbers is cause for murder, Ms. Verity,” the judge said blankly.
Dinah stared at Mal Peccable, because she knew that if she looked at anyone with genuine legal experience, she was going to drop dead of embarrassment. “Tell me, Mr. Peccable. You are listed on this Sales Record three times, and two of those times are for the purchase of grandfather clocks. Why, precisely, did you need TWO grandfather clocks?”
“OBJEC-”
Winston Payne never finished his objection. Because at that moment, the entire courtroom shook with a horrible roar of fury.
“HE CHEATED ME!” Mal Peccable roared, all traces of smile gone from his face, his eyes rolling back in his head, his suit flashing every clashing color of the spectrum. “EVERYTHING I BOUGHT FROM HIM! BROKEN! DUDS! FLAWED! SHODDY! HE DESERVED TO DIE! UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
And without further warning, Mal Peccable leapt from the witness stand and ran at Dinah.
“BAILIFF!” shouted the judge.
“DINAH!” shouted Mr. Grossberg.
“EEEEEK!” screamed Mr. Payne.
Dinah grabbed Mal Peccable’s fist and flipped him.
The entire courtroom went silent as Mal Peccable flew through the air like a leaping salmon, to land with a breath-shattering CRASH on the floor.
Surprisingly, the judge was the first to recover.
“BAILIFF!! ARREST THAT MAN!!”
* * *
“Prosecutor Payne,” the judge demanded, “what is the state of your witness?”
“He – um-” Prosecutor Payne seemed to be having an intense internal struggle. “He is – in custody, Your Honor. Apparently, he has anger management issues...which presumably contributed to his...conduct in court today.”
“Not to mention his murder of the victim,” Mr. Grossberg said wickedly. “Mr. Peccable continues to scream about how Mr. Aveit sold him ‘faulty goods’...he mentioned something about both of the grandfather clocks he bought, among other things, being broken. Apparently Mr. Aveit refused to pay the money to ensure his items were in working condition before he sold them.”
“How odd!” the judge said wonderingly. “At first I think this is a case fueled by the defendant’s greed for cookies...now it turns out that it was actually Mr. Aveit’s greed for a few extra dollars!”
Prosecutor Payne twitched.
“Mr. Grossberg,” Dinah whispered, “is something wrong with Prosecutor Payne...? He doesn’t look very...”
The defense attorney groped unsuccessfully for a euphemism for the word “sane.”
“Oh, not to worry, m’dear,” Mr. Grossberg waved. “He’s just had a chip on his shoulder ever since the great Mia Fey defeated him in her second trial. He was known as the Rookie Killer before that, you know...never fully recovered from the loss of that title. He’s been challenging rookies almost exclusively ever since, trying to win his reputation back, but that defeat unhinged him so much that he’s never yet managed it. I’m sure he’s simply stewing over yet another loss.”
The judge banged his gavel, and Mr. Grossberg – along with the rest of the courtroom – fell silent.
“Well, owing to all the evidence brought before me in court today – not to mention the evidence I’ve seen with my own eyes! – I believe I am prepared to hand down a verdict,” proclaimed the judge solemnly. “This court finds the defendant, Circe Chant...”
NOT
GUILTY
Dinah jumped as confetti suddenly rained down from the ceiling, from no apparent location and with no apparent stimulus.
“Congratulations, m’dear!” Mr. Grossberg cried, grinning broadly through confetti. “You’ve won your first case!”
(I won?)
(I WON!)
* * *
April 23, 11:05 AM
District Court
Defendant Lobby No. 2
Dinah’s jubilation lasted precisely two minutes and thirty-seven seconds, which was how long it took her to exit Courtroom 2 and immediately drown in a deluge of court audience members, courtroom security guards, and of course tabloid reporters. The chaos was inconceivable.
One of the reporters finally beat out his colleagues for the pride-of-place spot right next to Dinah’s face. He was an earnest-looking fellow, even younger than Dinah from the look of him, freckles dusting his round face, green eyes glowing excitedly beneath a shock of pale hair. He futilely tried to adjust his haphazardly-placed glasses and scribble on two different notepads at the same time. “Ms. Verity! Lucian Pallas here! I saw you attacked in the courtroom! Do you have a statement?!”
Dinah was torn between “I won!” and “AAAAAAAAH!” but fortunately, she never had to choose.
“VERITY!”
Prosecutor Payne shoved the young reporter out of the way, balding head shining with sweaty fury.
“VERITY! You – you and all your kind! Grasping at straws! No idea what you’re doing! Carefree and careless! Accusing whoever it is I bring to the stand! Bending rules! Bending justice! Bending – bending-”
This was far scarier than Mal Peccable. Prosecutor Payne was literally frothing at the mouth in his fury. However, Mr. Grossberg was having none of it. Shielding Dinah behind his immense bulk, Mr. Grossberg twitched his walrus of a moustache at the enraged prosecutor and proclaimed loudly (for the benefit of the reporters,) “Dinah Verity won this, her first trial, by paying careful attention to the facts, Mr. Payne! You can try as hard as you like...but you will never regain the title of Rookie Killer as long as you continue to let your wounded pride choose your position in court!”
Winston Payne turned a shocking shade of scarlet as he choked for an answer, but none was forthcoming. Whirling, Payne strode for the door, trailed by the eager crowd of reporters, who had evidently realized that the angry prosecutor was far more likely to talk to them about the trial than the tongue-tied defense was.
Well, not all of the reporters.
“Ms. Verity!” pleaded Lucian Pallas. “Please, a statement...?”
“Hey. Lawyer-lady.”
The reporter was shoved out of the way yet again, this time by a tiny curly-haired defendant.
“Circe!” Dinah said in surprise.
Circe studied Dinah like a biologist studying DNA under a microscope.
“I think you were my curse, Lawyer-lady,” the girl said finally.
“I was...I was what??” Dinah gasped.
“I cursed the one who stopped me from getting to my cookies,” Circe went on, as though Dinah had not spoken. “Aveit stopped me for a few minutes, but the man in there stopped me for over a week. Obviously my curse realized he was the real cookie-stopper, and used you to bring him down.”
All Dinah could really say to this was, “Oh.”
Circe nodded crisply. “Thank you for proving my curse in court, Miss Verity.”
And with that, she turned around and walked out of the lobby.
* * *
(And so my first trial ended! Circe Chant was declared innocent, and she and I went our separate ways, never to see each other again.)
(And if you believed that, I’ve got a bridge in Brooklyn I can sell you, too.)
(Truthfully, I never guessed for a minute that I WOULD see Circe Chant again. But I did...under circumstances I had never imagined.)
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
CASE ONE: TURNABOUT PAWNS: END
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-