“This is a former lockup room,” Hunter stated. “What about the usual room for clients and attorneys?”
“It’s this room today, Mr. Hunter.” The guard stood by the door. “The other rooms are occupied, so we had to make up this room for you. We knew you were coming down at one.”
Hunter leaned in and checked the room, and then stepped inside. He placed his briefcase on the table and sat down. The guard smiled and then locked the door behind him.
Fifteen minutes passed. Hunter was reading a file. It wasn’t unusual for guards to make defense lawyers wait. It was their way of demonstrating their authority. Hunter was on their land, their place, and anything but compliance would mean more waiting. Hunter expected to be waiting at least an hour before they brought in Javier. As Hunter was reviewing the file, he saw one of the guards walk past the door to check on him.
Five minutes after the guard walked past, a blaring alarm sounded. It was almost deafening in the small room, bouncing off the concrete walls. Hunter groaned. He should’ve seen it coming. He put in his earphones to deaden the sound, but it made little difference.
“This is a lockdown.” The voice announced over the speaker. “This is a whole-prison, real-world lockdown.”
The first guard appeared around the corner. Hunter stood. “Let me out.”
“Sorry, Mr. Hunter.” He shouted from outside the locked room. “This is a full prison lockdown. I can’t let you out. You’ll have to wait inside the room. It’s for your own protection.” The guard then smiled. “Apparently, someone’s been attacked, and it’s pretty bad. Rumor has it that it’s Javier, but I can’t confirm it yet.”
Hunter stared at the man. “How long?”
“For what?”
“How long is this going to last?”
The guard laughed and then checked his watch. “Gee, Mr. Hunter. Lockdowns are serious events. I imagine you’ll be in that room for hours until it’s safe to come out.”
Chapter 32
Tex Hunter raged through the busy country bar, pushing customers out of the way, searching for Chief Phillip Richardson. The bar was filled on Saturday night, all of the patrons seemingly getting ready to fight, dance, or make out. Most of the men were wearing their cleanest t-shirt and most of the women were wearing their smallest miniskirts. The floor was sticky, the music was loud, and the smells were a mix of beer, spirits, and tobacco. Hunter searched for his target and spotted him in a booth at the back of the room, near the pool table.
“You did this.” Hunter charged towards him.
Richardson slowly raised his eyes. “Mr. Hunter.” He looked at his watch. “It’s five o’clock on a Saturday. I didn’t expect to see you here. Have you come down to join us locals for a beer? Perhaps you’re willing to say you’ve finally given up and you’ve decided to go back to Chicago. I’d even buy you a drink if you said that.”
“You put Javier in the prison hospital.” Hunter leaned over the table. “You know he’s innocent.”
Richardson looked around the bar, all the eyes were on them. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you better be careful before you go around making wild accusations like that.” He looked towards the service area. “Go and have a beer. It’ll settle you down after those boys kept you locked up for a few hours.” He scoffed. “Maybe you got a taste of what your father’s been through.”
“You know Javier’s innocent, and you still had him attacked in prison. I’ve spent five hours in lockdown and have been told Javier was badly beaten. He’s in hospital.”
Richardson stood, trying to square up to Hunter, still holding his beer in his hand. “I’m not going to warn you again, Hunter. I said you’d better be careful before you make accusations like that. The best option you have is to go back to Chicago and forget you ever set foot in here.”
“I can’t do that. I can’t leave an innocent man to rot in prison.”
“Then things are only going to get worse for you. We need a conviction, and we’re going to make sure we get it. We need that Mexican behind bars.”
“A guard told Carol the request to keep me in the prison lockdown came from the police station.”
Richardson’s mouth hung open for a moment, and then he shrugged. “I’m sure it was a mistake, and I’m sure the guard won’t make an error like that again. And next time, I’ll make sure Carol is locked up there with you.”
Hunter knocked the beer out of Richardson’s hand, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him into the side of the booth. The men around Richardson stood.
“Don’t threaten Carol.”
“Now, now.” Richardson grinned and opened his hands wide. “You’re right. My mistake. I get it. I take back what I said about Carol. It was a step too far, even for me. I apologize.”
Hunter released his grip from around Richardson’s collar and stepped back.
“In this city, we recognize our mistakes. I shouldn’t have said that about Carol.” Richardson adjusted the collar of his shirt. “And you should recognize your mistakes, Hunter. Go home. Recognize you’ve made an error and you’re well out of your depth here. Get in your car and keep driving.”
“I’m going to take you down, and you’re going to land with an almighty thud.” Hunter stepped closer to Richardson, pressing his finger into his chest. “And I’m going to enjoy it.”
Hunter turned and faced the group of men standing around him. He looked back to Richardson, who shook his head at the men. They stepped aside, and Hunter began to walk out of the bar.
“Lawyer boy,” Richardson called out as Hunter walked towards the exit. “I’ll make sure your staff remain unharmed, but I can’t promise the same for your boy in prison. Wild things happen back there. Natural justice has a way of working itself out.”
Chapter 33
The anger that brewed inside Hunter hadn’t disappeared by the time the trial restarted on Monday morning. The law was his life, the courtroom was his world, and the need for justice kept him awake long into the night. He was a part of the system, a part of the process that ensured justice and liberty were given to all. The entire system depended on everyone doing their part—cops, prosecutors, judges, and defense lawyers. Every person in each role had to commit to a fair outcome, regardless of gender, skin color, or religion. Without each cog, without each part committing to fairness, the system fell apart.
Hunter walked into the courthouse meeting room, rage bubbling inside him. He sat down with Javier before the trial and discussed what happened in the prison over the weekend. Javier was ok, a few bruises, a few scratches, but nothing was broken. He spent a night in the prison hospital, had a number of x-rays, but then was given the all-clear. For the most part, his attackers left his face alone, but there was a long purple bruise that stretched from his shoulder up to his neck that would be visible to the jury, poking out from the collar of his suit.
“We can file a motion to delay the trial until your injuries heal. That bruise might prejudice the jury against you.”
“No.” Javier’s voice was desperate. “Please don’t do that. Please. I can’t be in prison any longer. I can’t go back there for another day. Please.”
With a mass of cloud cover outside, the lighting in the meeting room seemed dimmer than normal. The wood paneling seemed darker, the chairs seemed dirtier, but the despondent mood of the room hadn’t changed.
“What happened?” Hunter was gentle in his approach. “Anything you can tell me?”
“Some guys jumped me in the line to get into the yard.”
“Do you know who?”
Javier didn’t answer.
“Are you ok?”
“My Mexican brothers protected me. If it wasn’t for them, I’d be dead. No doubt about it. I owe them my life.” Javier tried to move his shoulder, but he grimaced. “I’m ready to tell you the truth.”
Hunter squinted and paused for a moment. “And what is the truth, Javier?”
“I didn’t kill the guy, but...” Javier paused and loo
ked away.
Hunter looked at the clock. “We don’t have long before we have to be back in the courtroom. I need you to tell me the whole truth.”
“I was in love with Maggie Richardson, but it was complicated. She was the police chief’s daughter, and the jock’s ex-girlfriend. If her dad was home, we used to meet in the hut in Norwich Park. I should’ve stayed away from her, but I couldn’t. She had some sort of spell over me.” He stared at the table. “Chad kept harassing her. That night…” He looked up. There were tears in his eyes. “That night, after the fight, Maggie decided to go home. As soon as she turned on her bedroom light, Chad called out to her. She called me and said Chad was drunk and calling out to her from the street. I said I’d come over and deal with him, but she said I shouldn’t. Her dad was home, so she felt safe. She said she was going to go and tell Chad about us. Maggie and Chad shared their first kiss at the hut in Norwich Park, and that was where she was going to tell him they were never going to get back together.”
“What else can you tell me?”
“She said she was going to meet with him that night and tell him to stop harassing her. I texted her later to see what happened, and she sent back a message to say it was sorted. I called the next day, and it was only a quick conversation. She said something bad had happened. She didn’t tell me what, but the next thing I knew, I was getting arrested.”
“Did she say she killed him?”
“She said something bad had happened. She didn’t tell me any more than that.”
“Maggie has refused to talk to us.”
“I know,” Javier whispered. “But if I ask her to tell the truth, she’ll come forward.”
“And are you ready for us to ask her to testify?”
Javier nodded. “I don’t have a choice.”
Chapter 34
Hunter waited at the defense table, staring into nothingness, barely a thought rolling through his head. Javier was brought in and sat down. They didn’t exchange a word until the bailiff called the court to order to stand for Judge Johnson. When they stood, Javier whispered. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hunter. I wanted to protect her.”
“I understand, Javier. I would’ve done the same for the people I love.” Hunter kept his voice low. “Carol is attempting to talk to Maggie today. If it was a scuffle between her and Chad, she should be able to get off on self-defense.”
“What happens now?”
“Bob West is coming to testify, and then the prosecution will most likely rest their case.” Hunter gazed up as Judge Johnson took his seat. The bailiff opened the door to allow the jury to enter. “And after that, it’s our turn. Right now, our best hope is that Maggie wants to testify. If she doesn’t, we don’t have much of a case.”
The crowd had begun to quieten down in the pews behind them. There was excitement in the air. The local radio station reported over the weekend that the prosecution was well in the lead in the case, and despite the evidence being circumstantial, the jury would have no choice but to convict Javier. The locals took the news report as gospel, and had spent the weekend celebrating.
Tanner stood and called his next witness. “The prosecution calls Mayor Bob West to the stand.”
The doors to the courtroom opened, and Mayor West entered from the corridor. He walked to the stand full of self-assurance. He was wearing his best blue suit, and his tie was done up perfectly in a Windsor knot. After he took his oath, Tanner began.
“Thank you for taking the time to talk with us today, Mr. West.” Tanner stood behind the lectern, leaning one arm on it. “Can you please tell us your occupation?”
As West began talking, interacting with the jury as he did, with a wink and a smile, a thought tracked through Hunter’s mind. West was the ultimate salesman, pitching his charming outlook to the jury. After five minutes of introducing himself, the jury was hanging on his every word. It was easy to see how he’d been married three times, but in equal measure, Hunter could also see how he’d been divorced as many times.
“And Mr. West,” Tanner continued. “Did you see Mr. Mitchell on the night of June 25th?”
“I did.”
“Can you please tell the court what you saw that night?”
“It was a little after 10:30pm, and I saw Mr. Mitchell walking towards Norwich Park. I went down for some fried chicken wings from Tabbies Fried Chicken, who makes the best wings in the state, and that’s when I saw Mr. Mitchell walking towards the park, on the west side of the park, on Butcher St.”
“Was he alone?”
“He was.”
“And did you make it to Tabbies to eat your wings?”
“I did.”
“And then what happened?”
“After I ate my wings, I was driving back, past the park, and that’s when I saw Mr. Mitchell again.”
“And where was Mr. Mitchell headed?”
“He was walking alongside the east side of the park.”
“Did you see him exit the park?”
“I did. As I was driving past him, I saw him exit the park. I think that’s when he was going to meet with Chad.”
“Objection,” Hunter called out. “Calls for a conclusion.”
“Sustained,” Judge Johnson replied immediately. “Stick to the facts as you know them, Bob.”
Tanner didn’t mind. It was easy to wipe a statement from a court transcript, but the same couldn’t be said for the jury. Statements made in court remained stuck in their subconscious, no matter how many times a judge dismissed them.
Tanner asked the Mayor numerous questions over the next hour, and all of it seemed damning. Hunter objected where he could, attempting to throw doubt on the testimony, but the jury trusted the Mayor and his no-nonsense answers.
“Thank you, Mr. Mayor. No further questions.”
Every prosecution case, circumstantial or not, has a key—either a witness or a piece of evidence that unlocks the door to the truth. Bob West’s eyewitness account of identifying Javier at Norwich Park that night was the key. His testimony was the last push and allowed the jury to see the whole picture that had been building over the past week and a half. Everything had been built up to this final testimony—a man of respectable authority in the city of Longford claimed to have seen Javier Mitchell at Norwich Park just before the time of death. West was the witness that cemented the facts, and he was taking great satisfaction in it. His testimony was straightforward, easily comprehended, and extremely valuable.
It was time for Hunter to slam the door shut.
“Thank you for taking the time to discuss the case, Mr. West.” Hunter moved to the lectern with a folder in front of him. He looked to the courtroom doors, hopeful Carol was about to re-enter. When she didn’t, Hunter continued. “Would you call yourself friends with Mr. Mitchell?”
“No.”
“Could you ever imagine yourself as being friends, or at least friendly, with Mr. Mitchell?”
“No.”
“Thank you for your honesty. Now can I ask you to be honest in your response to this next question?”
West squinted. “You can.”
“Have you had a drink of alcohol this morning?” Hunter was direct.
“I…” West looked around. “I might’ve had a shot of whiskey before I came in here to calm my nerves.”
“Just one shot?”
“Maybe…” West looked forward. “Maybe three shots.”
Hunter turned to the judge. “Move to strike this witness testimony on the basis he’s intoxicated, Your Honor.”
Judge Johnson raised his eyebrows. He’d never been asked that before in his court, although he was sure there’d been a lot of drunken witnesses in the stand over the years. “The witness looks fine to me, Mr. Hunter.”
“Your Honor, the witness has admitted to consuming a number of alcoholic beverages this morning. The drunken testimony must be struck from the record.”
“Don’t lecture me on the law, Mr. Hunter. Up there in the big city, you may not be able to handle your alc
ohol, but we make them tough out here. We can handle our drink.” Judge Johnson’s tone was flat, but the jury laughed. That wasn’t a good sign. “I can see with my own two eyes that Mr. West isn’t intoxicated.”
“Your Honor, I must protest.”
“You can protest all you want, Mr. Hunter. But I’ll tell you, it’s my opinion that matters. And in my opinion, the witness isn’t drunk. Motion to strike the witness is dismissed.”
Hunter paused, standing tall at the lectern, and then turned his page.
“Mr. Hunter?” Judge Johnson asked. “Are you going to continue, or should I excuse the witness?”
Hunter looked to the witness. “Mr. West, do you know Mr. Mitchell and his family?”
“I’m the Mayor of this town. I know a lot of people, so to answer your question, yes, I do.”
“Including Mr. Mitchell’s uncle, restaurant owner Jeffery Mitchell?”
“I do.”
Hunter paused for a moment, letting the information sink into the jury’s mind. Silence was a very effective way to ensure jurors were paying close attention. “Mr. West, why were you going to Tabbies at 10:30pm?”
“Because I was hungry.” West tapped his stomach, and the jury laughed again. “I get some late-night cravings.”
“Were you also drinking that night?”
“I’d had a few.”
“A few? How many drinks would you consider a few?”
“Five, maybe six drinks. But like the judge said, we can handle our liquor out here.” The jury laughed again. It was almost a comedy show to them.
“Was it dark that night?”
“Most nights are.” West smiled. He was on a roll.
“But that particular night, was it dark?”
“I don’t quite remember.”
“You don’t remember? Interesting,” Hunter responded. “Do you wear glasses, Mr. West?”
Natural Justice: A Legal Thriller (Tex Hunter Legal Thriller Series Book 6) Page 17
