by T L Swan
I shake my head. “No,” I answer.
The prosecutor turns to the jury. “Joshua Stanton’s house is under constant guard twenty- four hours a day. Nobody could have got to those diaries except Mr Stanton himself. He is hiding the evidence of his murder,” he yells.
“No,” I reply and my eyes flick to Vincenzo and he shakes his head in frustration.
“That is all for today, Mr Stanton.” He takes a seat as he smiles smugly at his assistants.
I stand and go back and sit next to Vincenzo and he gives me a reassuring smile as he stands. “I call to the stand Bridget Marx.”
I hold my breath as I watch Bridget nervously walk up and take a seat and swear on the bible. She smiles softly at me and I drop my head. This is bullshit. Why are we going through this?
“Miss Marx, you are Natasha’s sister?”
“Yes,” she replies.
“How would you explain your relationship with her?” Vincenzo asks.
“We are…” Her eyes drop to the ground. “We were best friends,” she replies softly.
My heart sinks. Were. Natasha and I were in love. We were planning a future. Were will never be are. It’s all gone. Natasha is dead and she is never coming back and neither is my happiness. I feel emotion start to take over me and my eyes frost over. I drop my head to shield my face from the photographers.
“When did you find out about Natasha’s and Joshua’s relationship?” he asks.
“The morning after they first kissed eight years ago,” she says confidently as her eyes flick to me.
I lift my head and frown—that’s a lie. What are you doing, Bridget?
“How did you find out?” he asks.
“Natasha rang me exited to share the news,” she replies with a determination in her voice.
“Did you tell anyone else?”
“No.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Sisters keep each other’s secrets, Vincenzo,” Bridget replies coldly. God, this is rehearsed.
“Do you spend a lot of time with them together?” he asks.
“I live with them,” she replies.
“How would you describe their relationship?” he asks.
Bridget smiles warmly at me and I feel my tears rise again. “They are madly in love. I don’t know a couple who are so in love.”
The lump in my throat breaks and I drop my head, unable to hide the tears again. I hear the clicks of the cameras as they capture my tears. Fucking get me out of here.
“Have you ever seen Mr Stanton be abusive to Natasha?”
“Never once. He adores her and worships the ground she walks on. There is no way he would ever raise a hand to her,” Bridget replies, annoyed at the question.
“Would Natasha have told you if there had been abuse?” he asks.
“Definitely, we tell each other everything,” she replies.
“Do you think Joshua Stanton killed your sister Miss Marx?”
She shakes her head. “No, definitely not. He didn’t do this. He has been framed for a murder he didn’t commit.” Her eyes go to the jury. “He is suffering enough. Please don’t make him suffer anymore,” she pleads. She starts to cry and nervously retrieves a tissue from her pocket.
“Are you still living with Mr Stanton?” Vincenzo asks.
“Yes,” she sniffles. “His parents, my mother and Natasha’s, my friend and Cameron, Joshua’s brother, are all staying there at the moment. We are trying to support each other through this terrible time,” she replies.
“But Joshua is not there, is he?” Vin asks.
She shakes her head.
“No, he is in prison for another person’s crime,” she replies in a loud clear voice.
“That is all, Miss Marx. I call to the stand Max Carter.”
My head drops. Fuck this is it. He’s going to crucify me.
Max goes through the motions and takes a seat.
“You are the bodyguard that so much speculation is surrounding,” Vincenzo announces.
“Yes,” Max replies.
“What was your relationship with Miss Marx?”
“I was her bodyguard and had become her friend,” Max replies.
“For how long?” Vin asks.
“Just over twelve months.” Max stares straight ahead, not once making eye contact with anyone.
“What was your relationship with Mr Stanton like?” he asks.
“Normal.”
Vincenzo frowns. “Normal, what does that mean? Did you fight?”
“No,” he replies and I swallow the lead ball in my stomach. He’s doing this for Natasha, not me.
“But I saw vision of you being abused by Mr Stanton on the night of Natasha’s disappearance on the television.”
“Mr Stanton had been drugged. Doctored images had just been sent to him in regards to the two of us,” he replies.
“But he went over the top, don’t you think?” Vincenzo frowns.
“No, any man would have been the same if he had been sent those images,” Max replies.
“Did you ever see any evidence of Miss Marx being abused by Mr Stanton?”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“No, he loved her. He would never have hurt her.”
I drop my head thankfully as the gallery starts to whisper and the cameras start to click.
“That is all, Mr Carter. I call to the stand Victoria Marx.”
My stomach drops, Natasha’s mother. I close my eyes as the torture continues and slip back into my darkness.
“You have a visitor,” the guard says as he opens the door of my cell.
I frown from my position lying on the bed. Visitors are the last thing that I want. It’s Saturday and I have been in court all week. Two more days to go. I will know my fate by Wednesday. I slowly walk down to the receiving rooms and take a seat, the door opens and my mother walks in. I instantly drop my eyes. We have hardly spoken a word since I found out my true paternity.
She smiles nervously and takes a seat, then she lifts up the telephone. “Hello Joshua,” she whispers.
“Hello,” I reply. My eyes hold hers. I’m so angry at her I can’t even articulate how I feel.
She twists the cord around her finger as her haunted eyes hold mine. “I miss you,” she whispers as her eyes tear up.
I swallow the lump in my throat. I miss her too. I nod sadly.
“Joshua, can you yell at me? Can you scream at me? Show me some kind of emotion. I can’t stand that you have just cut me off. Can we talk about it please?” she whispers.
I shake my head. “Just leave it, Mum,” I reply.
“Joshua please, my biggest fear was that I would lose you. And it’s come true, you’re gone.” She screws up her face as she tries to hold in her tears.
With my elbow on the desk I lean on my hand, and my eyes don’t leave her face.
“Joshua, I love you so much,” she whispers.
“People who love each other don’t tell lies,” I reply flatly.
She nods. “They do if they are scared for their life.”
My eyes stay fixed on her face.
Her tears run freely down her face.
“Was it really that bad?” I ask.
She nods and wipes a tear away. “It was worse than I can ever explain.” She frowns as she thinks. “The physical abuse was horrific… but the mental abuse and threats were much worse,” she whispers.
I don’t understand this woman at all. I shake my head. “I don’t understand. I will never understand why you wouldn’t tell your own husband about this. He loves you, he would have believed you.”
She shakes her head. “No, Joshua, he wouldn’t have believed me. My own sons didn’t believe me.”
My eyes hold hers.
“Joshua, my life has been hard, and I have made stupid, stupid choices.” She tears up again. “I have never known a love like the one you give to Natasha. Your father and I were different. He has always been distant.” She pauses before she speaks. “I w
as not his first love Joshua, and he has never recovered from her.” She rolls her lips as she thinks. “I could never measure up,” she whispers.
I frown, huh? “What are you talking about?” I snap.
She smiles. “I don’t blame your father. It was never his intention to make me feel insecure. The relationship with the other woman was before we met. His heart could never be mine because it was already taken.”
I look at the ceiling in frustration.
“Joshua, imagine if you and Natasha didn’t get back together and through circumstances you got another woman pregnant.”
My eyes hold hers.
“He did the right thing, he married me and he’s been miserable ever since.”
Pity fills me. “That’s not true,” I sigh.
She fakes a smile. “Isn’t it? He would only be home when you boys were awake. He would go out at night.”
I swallow as I think—that’s true. I remember it myself.
“And I don’t blame him, he was a good husband. He cared for me and our boys, we never wanted for anything. We made love once a week.” She hesitates and frowns. “But he was never really with me and I knew that and if I told him that his best friend was blackmailing me with sexual favours and beatings, I knew he would leave me and he would take you boys with him. I have no family, Joshua. I have close friends that know nothing about me. I’ve been living a lie for twenty-nine years, hiding the truth from even myself.” Her tear- filled eyes hold mine.
“Mum,” I whisper. “I would have stayed with you. If you gave me the chance to help you, I would have helped you.”
The tears drop onto her cheeks.
“Joshua, stay with me now, I need you now.” She puts her open hand onto the glass wall and I look at it. “I need you to forgive me. It’s the only thing in this world that matters to me.” She shakes her head as she cries. “I can’t contemplate a future without you in it.”
“What about Dad?” I ask.
“I love your father, I have always loved your father. He’s too good for me.” She shakes her head sadly.
I frown. “He’s not too good for you. This is the abused woman mentality that has you thinking like this. He is not too good for you. You deserve happiness.” I put my hand onto hers on the glass and she screws up her face in tears.
“I love you, Joshua,” she whispers.
My tear-filled eyes meet hers. “I love you too. It’s ok. I don’t want you to hurt anymore,” I whisper.
“But I am, because my son is in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. He has lost his love at the hands of another. How can I help you, Joshua. Tell what you need,” she sobs.
My eyes hold hers and the tears break the dam and run down my face. “Find me Natasha’s body—that’s all I want. I need to bring her home to bury her.”
Her tears match mine as they run down our faces.
“Joshua, where are Natasha’s diaries?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No, I’m not handing them over. Don’t ask me to.”
Her face drops. “So you do have them then? This will prove you’re innocent,” she whispers. “Natasha would not want you in prison like this. You need to be with your family. Please Joshua.”
I shake my head. “Her words die with me,” I whisper. “Her words die with me.”
Today’s verdict will be tomorrow’s headline and the look of anguish on Cameron’s face is unbearable. He has been with me blow by blow since Natasha went missing— they all have. Every member of our family have been behind me 100% and I couldn’t have asked for more. I’m so grateful for their unwavering support but I can’t put my family through this any longer. I just need this to be over. The details that they have brought up publicly about my past life have been unsavoury to say the least, my worst nightmare. Natasha’s mother and sister should never have had to listen to any of it let alone have to deal with it splashed all over the world news. The paparazzi presence in this courtroom today is overwhelming and I keep my eyes cast down so that they can’t get the shot of my face that they all so desperately want. Why is it that the perfect days in my life like the ones in Natasha’s arms flew by in the blink of an eye but the horrific final day of my court case is the slowest day in history? My mind goes back to the last interrogation I received at the hands of the prosecutor.
“So, Mr Stanton, I understand that the prostitute was blackmailing you with movie footage of you and her having sex?”
I drop my eyes in shame. “Yes,” I murmur.
“And you didn’t want Natasha to ever know about this movie did you?” he yells.
“No,” I reply in a monotone.
“But she found out didn’t she?” he yells.
“Yes,” I reply.
“But then the prostitute kept going, didn’t she, and she wanted more money and she threatened to go to the press with it and shame your fiancée and her family,” he yells.
“Yes,” I reply.
“So you had her murdered,” he screams.
“No,” I reply.
“Yes you did!” He walks over to the jury members. “Because that’s how this controlling, rich, self-absorbed man thinks. He can control every situation. Every person he comes into contact with must do as he demands or there will be hell to pay. So you can imagine the rage he felt when the love of his life fell in love with her bodyguard.” His eyes come back to me.
I shake my head. “No,” I reply. “That’s not true.”
“The outrage and furious state you would have been in,” he yells.
I shake my head. “No.”
“We have the footage. You were threatening to kill the bodyguard. You pushed her into the car against her will. You drugged her and cut her throat and murdered her in silence and then drugged yourself to cover your crime,” he yells. “Didn’t you!” he screams.
I shake my head. “No!” I yell. “I did not.”
“Your fingerprints were on the Rohypnol which was found in your house.” He yells across the crowded hushed room. “Your fingerprints were on the knife that killed Natasha Marx.”
“I don’t know how they got there,” I reply.
“Do not insult my intelligence!” he yells. “We are not stupid, Joshua Stanton. You have full-time guards on every property. Nobody could have got that drug into your premises without being seen! You are a control freak! You have murdered a prostitute because she wasn’t playing by your rules and got away with it and now you have murdered your own fiancée because she dared to fall out of love with you. Money can’t save you this time, Joshua Stanton.” His eyes go back to the jury and he paces in front of them. “I beg the jury to not let Natasha Marx’s death be in vain. Joshua Stanton will do this again, he is aggressive and violent, he is a drug addict and dangerous to this community. Can you have another death on your conscience?” he yells. “Because that is exactly what is going to happen if this man walks free today.”
The jury all stay silent and I drop my head. I really would like to kill him right now—maybe he’s right. I am a danger. I am going to kill the person who did this—without a doubt. I have no fear anymore. I could die tomorrow and not feel any pain. I have crossed over to the other side, a zombie in this life without my love. My heart and soul have been ripped from the very body that sits here and the only thing that is keeping me alive is the internal image of me killing the person who has done this. What’s happened to me? The darkness has taken me over and I am scared of what I am going to do. I don’t know what I am capable of anymore. Who am I?
My cold eyes rise to meet the prosecutor’s and I glare at him. I’ve had enough.
I am brought back to the present moment. “All rise.” The court official calls as the jury enters the room in single file as we all stand and watch. I look back to Bridget behind me and she gives me a soft smile; my eyes flick to Cameron and Adrian and they both nod to acknowledge me. This is it.
“The jury finds Joshua Stanton guilty of murder in the first degree.”
There are cheers
in the gallery and the cameras start to flash.
“No,” I hear Bridget and my mother cry out. “No, he’s innocent.” The cries come from behind me from my supporters.
I stand still, frozen in time, and stare straight ahead. Guilty. Guilty.
Vincenzo glares at me and drops his head. “It was the diaries,” he whispers angrily. “I told you we needed the fucking diaries.” My heart drops.
“He is sentenced to thirty-one years without parole,” the judge calls out.
The crowd gasps and my face flickers under the flashes of the photographers—thirty-one years without parole, thirty-one years without parole. I will be sixty years old when I am released. My eyes stay focused straight ahead—what’s happening?
Cameron grabs me in an embrace. “We will fight this injustice,” he cries. My mother and all of the family embrace me as they cry and the guard comes over with the handcuffs and I drop my head. I can’t have those fucking things on. My eyes cloud over.
“Please no,” I whisper.
The guard looks at me sympathetically and opens them up.
“Get away from him,” Cameron yells as he pushes the guard away from me. “He didn’t do this,” he yells. “You have the wrong man!” he screams to the courtroom.
Two other guards walk over and physically restrain Cameron who is close to hysterical.
I feel the cold hard snap of the handcuff around my wrist and I close my eyes to try and block out the hysteria of my family as they lose control.
“Come on,” the guard snaps.
And just like that, my life is over.
Adrian
I sit in my office with my elbows on my desk and my head in my hands. That’s the fourth resignation from the board this morning. How in the hell am I supposed to keep this company afloat when the brains of the operation is in jail for murder? Never have I felt the pressure I am under today. Joshua’s company is entirely in my hands and to be honest I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I need to get a professional in to help me. Who handles this kind of stuff?
My mind goes to Natasha and how she made everything easy simply by being around. That beautiful smile and those dimples. I miss her.
