by K E Osborn
“So just to clarify, you’re now saying that the defendant and his father, the owner of O’Connell Finance Incorporated, don’t fight or argue more than any other people, therefore, leaving the theory that the defendant is trying to exact some sort of revenge on his father flawed. Is that right?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“So, first you say that their fighting is the cause, and then you decide that, no, their fighting is not the cause, and now you’re going back again and saying it is. I move that the witness be viewed as unreliable, Your Honor.”
Matthew looks at Jenson with pure hatred. “I’m not unreliable. You’re twisting my words, you ignorant prick,” Matthew yells at Jenson.
The judge bangs his gavel as everyone whispers among themselves.
“Order, Mr. Jones, there is no need for an outburst like that. If it happens again, I will put you in contempt of court, do you understand?” the judge asks Matthew sternly.
“Yes, Your Honor,” he says sheepishly.
“Carry on, Mr. Monroe,” the judge calls out.
“No further questions, Your Honor,” Jenson says.
“Would the defense like to call any witnesses?” the judge asks.
“Yes, Your Honor, I would like to call my client, Aiden O’Connell.”
Aiden looks at me for reassurance. I nod at him as he stands up and heads to the stand, where he’s sworn in by the bailiff.
“Mr. O’Connell, are you currently an employee of your father’s incorporated company, O’Connell Finance?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. O’Connell, have you ever taken money that wasn’t yours?”
“No, I have not.”
“Are you guilty of embezzling money from O’Connell Finance?”
“No,” he says firmly, looking at the jury.
“Do you believe that someone is framing you for the crimes you’re accused of?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. O’Connell, why do you believe that you’re being framed for the crimes you’re accused of?”
“Firstly, I believe that another employee will be first in line to take a higher position in our company by pushing me out of the way. Secondly, I haven’t touched the money in the bank account that is falsely under my name because I didn’t take it to begin with, and thirdly, I’ve never been to Switzerland, so how can I open a bank account there?”
“Mr. O’Connell, would you call yourself an honest man?”
“Yes.”
“No further questions, Your Honor.”
The prosecutor stands and looks at Aiden. “Mr. O’Connell, you call yourself an honest man, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. O’Connell, did you know that you can open bank accounts over the Internet?” Aiden looks at Jenson, who nods at him.
“Yes.”
“So then it could be said that, while you have never been to Switzerland, you could have, in fact, opened the bank account over the Internet?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“So then you’re saying that you opened a bank account over the Internet in Switzerland?”
“No, not at all, I was saying, yes, it could be said that I could have opened the bank account over the Internet.”
“Did you?”
“No,” he says firmly.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. O’Connell, you say someone is trying to frame you. If someone was doing that, then why would they transfer the money through various accounts and not straight into an account of your name?” The members of the jury shift in their seats, paying full attention.
“I don’t know.”
“Then maybe you’re saying that to try and make yourself look innocent, when, in fact, you are smart enough to cipher money and transfer it through various accounts, but, then, dense enough to have it stop in an account of your own name so that it is easier for you to claim the cash.”
“What?”
“Do you not understand my statement, Mr. O’Connell?”
“I understand it perfectly.”
“Then answer it.”
Jenson stands. “Objection, Your Honor, badgering the witness.”
“Sustained,” the judge says.
“Mr. O’Connell, let me put it this way. Are you trying to say that someone framed you to get away with embezzling your incorporated company’s money when you, in fact, did it yourself?”
“No.”
“What then do you make of the transfer receipt and attached with-compliments slip?”
“I am sure it’s counterfeit, as anyone could have made it with a design program and a printer.”
“So you believe this to be false as well?”
“Yes, either that or whoever is framing me received it and placed it in my office for Mr. Jones to find, although I have never seen it before.”
“So, are you saying that Mr. Jones is a liar?”
“I’m saying someone planted it there, framing me.”
“So you’re saying someone is falsifying evidence?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. O’Connell, do you understand how the evidence suggests that you are, in fact, guilty beyond a reasonable doubt?”
“But I’m not guilty,” he says, his voice strained.
“Isn’t that what most people facing up to ten years imprisonment would say?”
“Yes,” he says, huffing and shaking his head.
“I rest my case. No further questions, Your Honor.”
“This court is now adjourned for ten minutes while the prosecution and defense prepare their closing arguments,” the judge calls out.
“All rise,” the bailiff says. We stand as the judge exits the courtroom, and the prosecution and defense teams, leave toward their respective rooms. Aiden looks back at me completely defeated, my poor man. He looks nervous and shaken.
We walk outside the courtroom to stretch our legs and get some fresh air. Sarah holds her arm around me as we walk with the rest of the family.
“It doesn’t look good, does it?” Blair asks no one in particular. No one answers as we stand huddled in silence. Alistair joins us.
“What are they saying?” he asks quietly.
“Like you care,” Callie retorts, making us look away.
“I care. He’s your son,” Alistair says as Callie exhales in disgust.
“He’s your son too, Alistair.” She walks away.
“That’s what I meant,” he calls out to her as Brielle and Blair follow their mother.
“I can’t stand this,” I mumble as Sarah tightens her arms around me.
“I could seriously strangle that little fucker Matthew; I knew he was up to no good. I wish we could’ve found something on him, but he’s covered his tracks well,” Benjamin exclaims.
* * *
The bailiff heads back in, and we follow to hear their final statements.
“All rise, this session is now resumed,” he says, and the judge walks back in. “Be seated,” the bailiff says, looking stoic.
The prosecutor rises and walks to the middle of the courtroom and stands in front of the jury.
“I want to begin, Your Honor, on behalf of myself and on behalf of our entire team by thanking you and the court for extending the courtesy you have to all the parties and counsel throughout this trial. Our thanks extend to the court’s staff, to the detectives, and the court reporters who have kept up with the lawyers and witnesses statements in this case.
“The prosecution would like to remind the jury that a conviction of guilty needs to be proven beyond a shadow of a doubt. I know we have shown you enough evidence and testimony to rule beyond a shadow of doubt that Aiden O’Connell is guilty of embezzlement totaling ten million dollars. How do I know? Because we had testimony from the lead detective, Detective Breuer, stating that the money being embezzled was found in an account under the accused’s name. Testimony from a colleague showed that the defendant had a grievance with his
father, and they fought more often than not, giving him probable cause, and a transfer receipt and attached with-compliments slip was found from a bank in Switzerland with Mr. O’Connell’s name stated clearly on it. This, plus the other compelling evidence, some given by Mr. O’Connell himself, that anyone facing up to ten years imprisonment would lie about whether they committed the crime to get out of serving such a sentence. It is up to us to stand against this type of crime to stop businesses and corporations of this great State from going into bankruptcy because of grievances. Embezzlement is a crime that should be punished accordingly. Thank you.”
My stomach turns somersaults, making me feel nauseous. I hold on to Sarah’s hand as Mike holds my other one. My breathing is shallow. The tension in the room is palpable as Jenson stands for his final statement.
“I also would like to begin by thanking Your Honor and the court staff on behalf of myself and my client. The defense would like to start by stating that Mr. O’Connell is a family man; he thrives on working in the family business with his father, Alistair O’Connell. I would like to point out to the jury that Alistair O’Connell, the owner of O’Connell Finance, is here in the courtroom supporting his son today. If the owner of the incorporated company believes in his son’s innocence, then doesn’t it make it more likely that the defendant is, in fact, respected by his father, even though they may argue? This brings me to question the fact that Mr. O’Connell would do as he is accused. To spite his father? I think not.”
I look over at Alistair; his face is stern. I’m not sure that he likes being pointed out, but hopefully a valid point has been made that he’s finally here for Aiden. I look at the jury as they intently listen to Jenson.
“The transfer receipt and attached with-compliments slip entered into evidence is not something I would call evidentiary. It may be a product of someone else’s doing. Anyone can print a design copying the banks logos, etcetera. Also anyone can write anything they like onto said slip. This evidence is neither solid nor damning and should not be conclusive to the defendant’s case.
“My client is an honest, hard-working man; he is a son, a brother, a grandson, and a partner to all who support him today, none of whom believe him to be guilty. If it was your son, brother, grandson, or partner in his situation, wouldn’t you be a supporter too? Don’t let the crimes of someone else fall to him. He is innocent, and although we do not have any evidence to suggest who the person or persons are framing Mr. O’Connell, we plead that you find it in your hearts to look at the evidence given. No one in their right mind would go to the trouble of transferring the money through various accounts for it to end up back into an account in his own name. Thank you.”
I take a deep breath as Jenson sits down next to Aiden. My leg is agitating up and down as I try to keep myself composed. Sarah gently rests her hand on my knee to stop it, and I put my hand over hers, and she holds on tightly.
“We have heard both sides of this argument. The jury is now to retire to the jury room to consider their verdict. During this time, the jurors may not speak to anyone about the case, excluding other jury members. All discussions must take place in the jury room and when all jurors are present. This court is adjourned.”
“All rise,” the bailiff says. We stand, and the judge walks out, followed by the jury. Aiden turns around to face me.
“I love you, Jeni,” he says as a policeman takes him and leads him out of the room.
My eyes feel heavy. Now all we can do is wait, wait for a verdict as to whether I spend the rest of my life with the man of my dreams or whether he’ll spend it in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.
Aiden’s family walks to the front of the courthouse as Jenson comes over to talk with us.
“Now we wait,” he says.
“If he’s found guilty, will we have time to see him before they take him away?” Brielle asks Jenson.
“Unfortunately no. He will be taken straight back to the state penitentiary, where he’ll become a full-fledged inmate.”
Brielle hugs Adam as she cries into his chest.
I want to cry, but I can’t; I have no tears left. “How will we know when the jury is back?” I feel my stomach churn again as I ask Jenson.
“I’ll call you and let you know,” he says kindly.
“Can we see him now?” Blair asks as I look up with a glimmer of hope.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. He’s in custody until the jurors return.”
My mouth drops open, and I feel a sense of helplessness.
“Thank you, Jenson, for everything,” Callie says.
“Don’t thank me yet. This could go either way. I’ll call you when the jurors are back,” he says as he walks off.
“Jenifer, why don’t you and Sarah come back to our house? That way we can all be together when he calls,” Callie says to me kindly. I’m feeling dazed.
“Mike, take the girls and bring them back to the house.”
“Sure thing, Mrs. O’Connell,” Mike says and leads us to the car.
* * *
Sarah is looking out the car window as we pull up at the massive mansion.
“My God, these people are loaded,” she says with a small laugh.
I don’t take much notice and step out of the car, walking to the front door. Brielle answers, and Sarah and I walk inside. I have my arms wrapped around myself, subconsciously trying to hold myself together as we walk through to the living room. I sit on one of the sofas and stare into the distance at nothing as I see my life fading away. Everyone is talking as Nana brings in drinks for us all. She puts mine on the coffee table in front of me as I continue to stare at nothing.
* * *
The day fades away slowly with no phone call. They say verdicts can take days to come back or only a couple of hours. I was hoping for the latter when I hear a cell phone ring in the distance.
“They’re back already. Is that good or bad?” Callie announces as Sarah looks at me sympathetically.
“C’mon, everyone, we have to get down there quickly,” Alistair announces as everyone stands up to walk out of the room. I stay on the sofa, sitting there watching everyone frantically trying to leave when Nana spots me.
“Jeni, aren’t you coming?” she asks, and I shake my head. Everyone looks at me and stops in their tracks as Sarah comes back to sit next to me.
“You have to come,” Sarah says, taking my hands in hers as I continue to shake my head.
“Darling, Aiden needs you to be there.”
My bottom lip starts to quiver as an overwhelming sense of anxiety floods over me. “I can’t,” I whisper.
“If the situation were reversed, wouldn’t you want him there? Even though it would be hard for him, wouldn’t you want it?” Nana asks quietly.
I swallow hard as I take in what she’s said. I have to be there, for him and for me; I need to know what happens, good or bad. I inhale and stand up, and Nana and Sarah both exhale with relief.
“We have to go now,” Callie says calmly, and Nana, Sarah, and I walk to the cars.
* * *
We walk into the courtroom and take the same seats, mine behind the defense table so I can be close to Aiden. The prosecutor enters, as do Aiden and Jenson, who sit in front of us.
I lean forward and whisper to Aiden, “I love you, no matter what.”
He exhales.
The bailiff enters and takes his usual spot in the courtroom. “All rise,” he announces as the judge walks in and sits down.
“Be seated. Please bring in the jury,” he says.
The jury, looking stoic, enters one by one into the courtroom. My heart is racing a million miles an hour. I almost feel as though I’m having a panic attack as my leg starts to agitate, and I bite my bottom lip to stop it from quivering.
Aiden and Mr. Munroe stand.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asks.
A young woman stands in the jurors’ box, her face giving nothing away. “We have, Your Honor.”
&n
bsp; This is it; this is the moment. I stop breathing, which makes me feel lightheaded, and my body is shaking all over. She hands a piece of paper to the judge. He reads it and nods.
“What say you?” the judge asks.
“In the case of Aiden O’Connell versus the State on the charge of embezzlement, we find the defendant... guilty, Your Honor.”
My hand shoots up to my mouth as tears well in my eyes. Guilty? Oh my god. Shock fills the room as everyone in his family gasps in disbelief. I look at Aiden as his head hangs low in despair, and I burst into tears.
He turns to me. “I love you, Jeni.”
I stand, holding my hands out to him, tears falling down my face. “I love you.”
He takes my hands in his as a policeman walks over to take him into custody. He pulls Aiden away from me, making me fall forward as our hands are torn apart.
“Aiden.” I grab hold of the barrier in front of me, leaning toward Aiden, reaching out to try and touch him as he’s pulled farther away.
He struggles against the police officer. “Jeni, I didn’t do this. Jeni, Jeni, I love you,” he yells as he struggles more violently.
“Aiden, don’t fight them.” I sob.
“Jeni, you know I didn’t do this. Tell me you believe me.”
His family, excluding his father, bursts into tears.
“Aiden, I love you,” I yell as he resists the police officer.
“I love you, baby. Trust me. I didn’t do this. Jeni, do you trust me?”
“I do.”
Coming Soon
Love Me?
The Trust Me? Trilogy
All of Me?
The Trust Me? Trilogy
Love Me? The Trust Me? Trilogy.
Content is subject to change with publication.
Chapter 1
The room shifts to darkness as Aiden rolls over on his tattered mattress. The cell is small and dank, leaving him shivering uncontrollably. I watch him through the bars as a single tear rolls down my cheek. A glimmer of something dark stands in the background as he tries to sleep. His eyes are closed as the figure floats towards him; dark, endless black nothingness fills the room as Aiden opens his eyes. He rolls over to see the blackness drifting toward him. He sits up on the bed, his back to the wall. His eyes squint as the darkness surges, lifting him from the mattress by the neck, strangling him. He tries to call out for help, but when he opens his mouth, the blackness floods his throat. I reach through the bars to take hold of him, but he’s so far away. The blackness engulfs him, and my Aiden is gone.
