“Oh…”
“We cannot even have the slightest snarl coming from your lips, Anna. In the courtroom, you’ll hear things that will make you angry—things that you think are lies—but you cannot, and I repeat, you cannot become angry. If the jury believes for even one second that you have a mean temper, then we can kiss the case goodbye.”
“I’ll try. I’ve struggled with anger my whole life, so I will do my best.”
“No. Don’t try. Make it happen.”
Anna nodded in agreement. “Ok. I will control my anger in the courtroom.”
“For your sake, I really hope you do.” Harvey opened another file, sliding it in front of Anna. “Here are instructions on how you need to appear in the courtroom. It tells you how to appear soft for the trial. You need to wear soft colors, soft clothes, and apply soft makeup. I also want your hair out and flowing over your shoulders. I need you to focus on looking sweet and young. The jury will be watching for your reaction to every statement, and they will be watching you very closely. By following these guidelines, you’ll give the jury the impression that you’re soft-natured, and their subconscious mind will process that as innocence. It gives us a head start, but it in no way overrules the evidence.”
Anna shook her head as she flicked through the pages on how to dress in court. “If you think it will work, then I’ll do it.”
“I don’t think it will work, I know it will work,” Harvey stated confidently. “We need doubt in the juror’s mind, and if they think that you’re soft and calm, then their subconscious will have doubt. That is our starting point and what we will build on.”
“So, what’s your angle then? What’s your big play?”
“If you didn’t murder your aunt, then somebody else did.”
“That’s it?” Anna questioned. “That is all you have?”
“Strange things can happen in a courtroom. The pressure of the spotlight can cause all sorts of people to lose their focus. Even the most stoic of personalities can become lost once they are put on the stand. There’s the pressure of having sworn an oath to tell the truth, the pressure of all the eyes focused on your statement and the pressure of my questions. I’ll exploit that pressure, and force the killer to reveal themselves. That is what we’re going for.”
“Who are your suspects?” Anna leaned forward. “It’s one of the veterans, isn’t it? I knew it’d be one of them. They’re creepy men.”
“What makes you think it was one of them?” Harvey enquired.
“Just a feeling. I always felt like both of them were suspect in some way. When I heard my aunt was murdered, I thought it was one of them.”
“Which of them would you think is guilty?”
“Take your pick. It could’ve been either of them. Both of them have the strength to strangle Aunt Jessica. If I was to pick…” Anna looked out the window, and the visions of her aunt being strangled came to her mind. For the first time, she imagined the pain and shock that Jessica must have felt when she was being murdered. The tears came to her eyes, and she wiped them away with the sleeve of her shirt. “I don’t know. It could’ve been either of them.”
Harvey watched the light drain out of Anna’s eyes.
He wanted to tell her that it was okay, to reassure her, but he could not bring himself to lie to her. He didn’t want to give her false hope.
“I can’t do it, Harvey,” Anna whispered. “I can’t go to jail for something I didn’t do. I can’t spend the rest of my life without the freedom of travel. I haven’t even made it to Australia yet. That’s where I was going next. I was going to spend a few months back here with my friends in L.A., and then I was going to spend a year traveling through Australia. I wanted to drive in the Outback, and dive in the Great Barrier Reef, and walk through the forests of Tasmania. I had it all planned. I wanted to travel to the land ‘Down Under.’ But my aunt didn’t want that. She didn’t want me to go.”
“Was she jealous?”
“Of course,” Anna replied quickly. “She hated the fact that I could go wherever I wanted. She grew up in a time when women couldn’t do what we can now, and I get that. I get that she didn’t have the freedom that I do. But that shouldn’t stop me from doing what I love.”
“I hope you get the chance to travel to Australia.”
A pause fell over the room as Anna contemplated her future; her thoughts drifting to a future without travel, without freedom, without choice.
“We’re done, aren’t we?”
“Done?” Harvey questioned.
“Everything you have said makes it look like we’re not going to win this case. It looks like we’re going to lose.”
“It is a matter of perspective, Anna. My perspective is different to others.”
“Perspective? What does perspective have to do with it?” Anna tried to control her frustration. “This should be black and white.”
“Are you familiar with globes and maps of the world?”
“Of course.” Anna looked at him with confusion.
“Do you ever wonder why they all face the same way up?”
Anna’s eyes squinted as she tried to understand his question. “Um, no.”
“Most people don’t. But if you were in a satellite in outer space, looking back at the Earth, there is no reference point. Our planet is suspended in space with no orientation. There is no up and down in space. The North Pole could be at the bottom of the Earth, depending on your position in space. The land ‘Down Under’ could be on top of the world. It could be the land ‘Up There.’”
“What? No. North is always up.” She shook her head.
“No. That’s what you have been told your whole life. North is not ‘up.’ That is your perspective, but that isn’t reality. The reality is that the Earth is a spherical body in a three-dimensional space with no reference point for up or down. We have merely written North as being up on our maps and globes. Nothing more. East could be up, or West could be up, or South could be up. North as the ‘up’ point on a globe is nothing more than a social construct.”
“What?” Anna leaned forward.
“Next time you have a world globe in your hands, turn it upside down. That’s what it could look like from space. The direction of up all depends on your orientation when you look at it.”
“You’re saying that all maps and globes are wrong?”
“Not at all. They’re right, to a certain point, all depending on your position in space. The convention of North-up maps is merely a perspective. When Apollo 17 took the first ever full photograph of our planet from space, Antarctica was at the top, and the North Pole was at the bottom. That didn’t sit well with NASA and the US Government, so they turned the photo upside down to meet our expectations.”
“Sorry?” Anna shook her head again. “You’re saying there is a conspiracy to North being up?”
“Not a conspiracy. Merely a collective perspective. The Earth isn’t any particular way up, and there is no good reason other than a historical superiority complex to think of North as being the top of the world.”
“Um, wow. I… I suppose that’s right. There’s no point of reference in space. The world could be upside down. That’s amazing.” Anna considered Harvey’s statement as she leaned back in her chair, still shaking her head. “And it’s all very interesting, but what has this got to do with my case?”
“My perspective isn’t the same as everyone else’s, Anna. I see the world differently. When I see a world globe, I question its orientation. That is how we’re going to win the case.”
“By saying the world is upside down?”
“No, Anna. We will win by seeing things differently.”
CHAPTER 15
By midafternoon on the day before the trial, Harvey was redrafting his opening statement over and over, trying to create the perfect combination of words for maximum impact. He understood the importance of delivery; the need to use the right words, at the right times.
As he began to talk to himself, rehearsing
his opening lines, his office door burst open.
In surprise, he looked up, but when he saw the lean figure standing in the door frame, he groaned. It was the only way this man ever entered his office.
“Taylor,” he grunted.
“Sorry, Bill,” Kate said as she stood behind the well-dressed man. “He just—”
“It’s alright, Kate. I wouldn’t expect Taylor to enter my office any other way.”
Kate nodded, took another look at the tall man, and then returned to her desk. Harvey refocused on the paperwork in front of him; his pen hovering over the first paragraph of his opening statement.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?” Taylor Reaper stood defiantly in the frame of the doorway, waiting for a response.
Harvey took a moment, then lifted his eyes from his paperwork and calmly stated, “I assume you have a drama and you would like to discuss that drama with me.”
“This is more than a drama,” Taylor stated again and strode over. He stood at the edge of Harvey’s desk, arms spread wide, then leaned on it, staring down at Harvey in an attempt to intimidate him.
“You have a new tie,” Harvey said about Taylor’s new red accessory.
Taylor sighed, shook his head, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and placed himself comfortably in the chair opposite Harvey’s desk. He crossed one leg over the other, leaned back, placed his hands in his lap, and sighed again. “I’ve never liked your office. Never. I think it’s too bright to do any real thinking in here. I can see why you don’t generate as much business as I do.”
Taylor Reaper was one of California’s finest, and best dressed, defense attorneys. He started his own firm in his late twenties, and over the past ten years, he had grown that firm into a juggernaut of a business. He held himself in very high regard and expected everyone else to do the same.
His skills in defending clients were only outclassed by his talents in generating high-paying ones.
“Have you come to lose another case?” Harvey quipped. He knew that comment got under the skin of Taylor Reaper.
“You got lucky last time. You got lucky.”
The only three losses Taylor had ever experienced as a lawyer had been in Civil Court, against the might of Bill Harvey. And that fact couldn’t frustrate Taylor more.
“Get to the point, Taylor. I charge by the minute.”
“I’m not looking to hire a lawyer, you pompous bastard,” Taylor growled.
“Then what is it that you want?”
“Your trial has called one of my clients to the stand.”
“Who?”
“Thomas Feeble.”
Harvey raised his eyes in a show of slight surprise. He put his pen down, staring directly at Taylor. “That’s very interesting. I’m surprised that he can afford your fees.”
“I’ve managed the Feeble account for many years. Thomas Feeble is set to inherit a lot of money over the next few months. His mother is almost ninety years old and has a terminal disease. We’ve been advised that his mother has been given only one month to live and currently, the estate is all going to Thomas Feeble. I’ll be managing the transition of that estate.”
“And no doubt taking your fair share of the money.”
“Of course.” Taylor smiled in approval. Money was his goal in life, and he was proud of that fact. The more money he could make, the prouder he was.
“It must be a lot of money if he has you walking into my office. I’m surprised that you didn’t send one of your underlings here to try and intimidate me.”
“The estate has a lot of money, yes. Inheritance seems to be the theme of the case, as well.”
“I don’t have time to trade barbs with you, Taylor. What do you want?”
Taylor took a moment before responding. He was trying to exert some control in the face of the only man who had his measure in court. “What are you going to ask my client on the stand?”
“I’m going to ask him about his cats.”
“Don’t play games with me.” Taylor leaned forward in the chair. “What are you going to ask him?”
“I’m going to ask him what he witnessed on the day that the murder occurred. That is how defense trials work. If someone claims to have witnessed an event, then they will need to state that in court, and then they will be cross-examined by the defense. I’ll ask him about his witness testimony.”
“You need to treat him well.”
Harvey leaned back in his chair when a moment of realization hit him. “Thomas Feeble has come to you because he’s on the stand and he’ll be alone. That scares him, doesn’t it? He’s hiding something, so he came to you to ask for help. In turn, you came here to try and intimidate me. That is very interesting.”
“What he’s hiding isn’t what you think.” Taylor calmed down, and his voice had a touch of heart.
“And what is he hiding?”
“Nothing to do with this case.”
“I’m sure that’s what he has told you, but I’m not sure that I believe it.”
“Tread easy on the stand.”
“No. If that man wants to make a statement to the police about the death of Jessica Lempare, then he must be prepared for what happens next. I suggest that if you want to protect him, then you need to prepare him for the cross-examination.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Your cross-examination. You’re the devil when it comes to these things. I’ll prepare him, but I’m afraid that you’ll rip this fragile man to pieces in the courtroom.”
“I’ll do what this case needs.”
“I’m sure you will.” Taylor stood and buttoned up the jacket of his stylish suit. “Just watch where you step. That’s a warning from me. I’m not a man you want to mess with. And if you mess with Thomas Feeble, then you mess with me. You don’t want to do that, Harvey.”
“Your threats hold no weight here.”
Taylor Reaper stood in front of Harvey’s desk knowing that the statement was true. He had enough power and money to crush most of his legal rivals, but he knew that he could not crush the reputation of Bill Harvey. He held no power in Harvey’s office, and that aggravated him immensely.
“Then as a colleague.” Taylor’s voice softened with defeat. “I’m asking you to step easy.”
Harvey watched as Taylor walked out of the office, and the thoughts crashed through his head with pace.
Drumming his fingers on the edge of the table, Harvey tried to figure out what it meant for the case. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew that Thomas was hiding something.
And any secret related to the case would be exposed on the stand.
Bill Harvey would make sure of it.
CHAPTER 16
The opening day of a trial was always exhilarating.
It was what Harvey lived for as a lawyer.
It was the only time that he didn’t need coffee to kick-start his morning. Adrenaline was already pumping through his veins. His morning routine for opening day was thorough and perfectly timed.
After his ten-minute shower alternating between hot and cold water, he ate one apple, one spoonful of honey, and one large glass of filtered water.
He dressed in his best suit—picked up from the dry-cleaners at 5 p.m. the day before—and sprayed himself with three dashes of his finest Clive Christian cologne. He stored the small bottle of cologne in the back of his bathroom cabinet and only used it for the opening day of a trial. It was his way of subconsciously telling himself that today was an important day in his client’s life.
Recently, he walked past a man on the street wearing the same cologne and his body jumped into action. His heart started pounding within the walls of his chest, his jaw clenched, and his focus was heightened. It took another hour before he could calm down again.
When Harvey met Anna outside the courthouse, a smile stretched across his face.
She had followed his instructions perfectly. She was wearing a smart, yet casual, gray skirt and white blouse. Her red hair was full of bounc
e, flowing neatly over her shoulders, and her makeup projected a calm, soft exterior.
Anna appeared warm and inviting; like she should be teaching Kindergarten, rather than murdering her own aunt. That was exactly the look that Harvey needed the jurors to see.
Harvey’s opposition, Miss Joanne Valentine, was also looking fine for the first day of the trial. She was wearing a sharp, navy blue skirt and coat, and appeared earnest, but relaxed; intelligent, yet cunning.
As they entered the courtroom, Harvey and Valentine greeted each other politely, but with an air of unease. The crowd behind them began to build over the next hour, mostly with curious onlookers and hardworking law students. Harvey had developed quite a following among the students of law, and they came from across the country to watch him perform in court. He loved the attention but didn’t let it distract him from the task at hand.
When Judge David Wilmot was welcomed into the court, the room was buzzing with anticipation and nerves.
Anna’s anxieties began to show as the jury walked into the room. These were the twelve people that would judge her guilt, and as much as she tried to calm herself down with deep breaths, she couldn’t help but cross her arms over her stomach, trying to ease the nerves building in her torso. She looked at the table in front of her, blinking her eyes fast to hold back the tears.
She had no control over her fate.
None.
All she could do is sit and watch her potential future unfold over the next three days. In her mind, she would give the case two days, and if it appeared certain that she would be convicted, she would drive to Mexico and try to escape via the border.
She had already googled how to run through the tunnels, and escape to build a new life in Mexico. In her mind, if she got to Mexico, then she could begin a lifetime of travel via Central America, and further into South America. She was sure that she had enough funds left to spend her life roaming through those countries on a fake passport.
Bill Harvey Collection Page 39
