The Courtroom

Maybe drinking is not my strongest suit. I wake up with my head throbbing, feeling almost dizzy, sunlight streaming in through the slits between the curtains, falling directly onto my face. I check my phone.

Half past seven. The court expects me to be there by eight.

I take a deep breath, my fingers running through the tangles between my hair. Fifteen minutes is more than enough for me to reach the court. I quickly take a shower, put on my best suit, dab some foundation and lip tint. Ten more minutes.

This is going to be a race against time.

I grab my keys and my file, and rush downstairs. Today is going to be my day. I am defending my client against claims that he is a murderer. Killer or not, all I care about is the money. The accused, being the son of the owner of a large departmental store, guaranteed that he'd pay me whatever I might require. That is a kind of deal that is almost impossible to refuse.

I pull out of the driveway, my house looming behind my car. You could say I am pretty well to do. I work for one of the best law firms in the city, and I'm pretty sought after. A rise in demand meant that I could increase my hourly charges. I receive a fat paycheck after every case, making me, what I'd call very successful.

However, I am growing old. Despite my very youthful features, I turn 68 next week. So, for the sake of my satisfaction, I decided to take on one last case. Mr. Rowley, the department store owner, requested me to take on this case. His secretaries called my office one too many times. But what made him standout was his briefcase full of golden bars. How could anyone refuse that?

I park quickly and glance at my phone. Two minutes past nine. Gosh I am pretty proud of myself. I walk, or shall I say run, to the courtroom.

As I enter, all eyes are on me. "Pardon me for the delay, your Honor. I overslept."

Saying so, I walk to my seat, my posture upright, and face devoid of any expression.

"You just missed the opening statement", my legal assistant whispers. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience caused.", I say.

"The prosecution may present their case.", the judge announces.

I glance back, my eyes searching for Mr. Rowley. His cold stature is seated, his eyes quick to find mine. I give an affirmative nod, trying to convey that this case is going to go well. I glance at the prosecution, to see Mr Wellson, one of the best lawyers of our rival firm. His eyes, full of confidence, look at me, with a condescending gaze.His voice booms in the courtroom, "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am Mr. Wellson,and I represent the Smith family in this case. On December 25th, Ms. Jessica Smith, was reported missing by her roommate. Two days later, her mutilated corpse was thrown across a dumpster, her exposed body covered with almost nothing. Her body, covered with bruises and ligature marks, and her fingernails all plucked out one by one. The forensic department estimates that the victim was murdered between the hours of 02:00 and 05:30 on the 27th. What happened in these eventful hours is the base of this case."

"My client, Mr. William Smith, was absolutely devastated upon hearing about his daughter's death. I now provide the evidence, in this case, a watch from the night Jessica disappeared. She was spotted wearing the watch, as this particular photo from her camera roll indicates. The photo was taken at 17:36 hours indicating she went missing at that point of time. However, the watch was not found on her corpse, two days later. Assuming that she had the watch on her at the time of disappearance, where could it be?"

"Your Honor, this watch was found in the room of Mr. James Rowley, our defendant. This watch is a one of a kind, custom made by an Italian watchmaker. In addition, the initials of the victim are found engraved onto the back of the watch. Your Honor, I believe that our defendant tortured and murdered Ms. Jessica Smith and took the watch as a trophy for his killing."

"I request Mr. Douglas to the stand."

"You may proceed", the judge says.

Mr. Douglas, an old man, with wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, indicating he smiles a lot, comes up to the stand. He says the oath and Mr. Wellson begins.

"Mr. Douglas, what is your relationship with the defendant?",Mr. Wellson asks.

"I'm his butler, sir.", the old man says.

"Can you account for Mr. Rowley's whereabouts the night of the abduction, on the 25th, between the hours of 17:30 and 20:00?"

"Yes and no, sir. I had taken the day off, considering that it was Christmas. However, master Rowley had called me at around 6 o' clock in the evening to ask if I was free and if he could come visit me."

"Did he come visit you then, Mr. Douglas?"

"Yes. He came, gave me some freshly baked cookies, and stayed the night with my family."

"Did he show any signs of distress during his visit?"

"He looked slightly unwell, but when I asked him about it, he told me that he had a normal cold. I assumed he was telling the truth, given it is winter. However, it was the bite mark on his forearm that raised suspicion within me. He was wearing a sweater which covered his arms, but it rode up when he hugged me."

"Your Honor, as the witness says, Mr. Rowley abducted the girl between 17:30 and 18:00 hours, bought some cookies, and went to visit his butler. He proceeded to stay the night, which is an attempt to gain alibi. This also explains why the body was found two days later, as he spent the first trying to cover up his tracks."

"You may sit down. The defense may now present the case", the judge says.

I feel the anger boil inside me at how well Mr. Wellson had done, given his history, but I console myself. This is going to be my last case. If I don't do my best, I will definitely regret it for the remainder of my measly life. I glance straight ahead, my mind filled with the possible joys of retirement.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am Mrs. Liu ,and I represent Mr. James Rowley in this case. I believe in the innocence of my client. According to Mr. Wellson, Mr. Rowley had visited Jessica between the said hours. But, your Honor, he fails to consider the fact that they had both agreed to meet up at Jessica's house. The chat messages from her Yubo account specify this in detail. What we can conclude from the given messages is that James had visited Jessica, they spent some time in her house and then, James left. Whoever abducted Jessica must have done it between the time James left and between the estimated time."

"Objection, your Honor.", Mr. Wellson says.

"Overruled. You may proceed, Mrs Liu.", the judge says.

"Thank you, your Honor. Furthermore, the watch is a family heirloom of the Smith family. Owing to the sentimental value of the object, Jessica must have gifted it to James, as a gift. Whoever committed the crime, it was not my client. And the bite mark? The Douglas' family has a dog in their yard. Mr. Douglas must have surely mistaken the bite mark of a dog to that of a human.", saying I look at Mr Douglas.

He continues looking at his shoes, refusing to meet my eyes. "Your Honor, Mr. Douglas also suffers from cataract and his surgery is going to take place the following Saturday, am I right, Mr. Douglas?"

"Yes", Mr Douglas mutters.

"You see, the prosecution has provided us with very weak evidence, relying on Mr. Douglas' poor vision, no offense of course. Moreover, the case file states that the victim was raped before being mutilated,with the help of semen traces found. However, the semen traces do not match that of James. With this, I rest my case, your Honor.", I say, with a small smile.

Mr. Wellson's face is bright red, his forehead veins visible. He looks like he himself is capable of crime at this point.

"Prosecution, do you have anything more to add?", the judge asks.

"No, your Honor.", Mr. Wellson mutters, his eyes on me, brows furrowed.

"The court will be adjourned till 9:30am tomorrow.", the judge says.

A smirk appears on my face. Well that went pretty well. My legal assistant says, "Mrs. Liu, that was amazing. I love how you spoke with such a stolid face. You are so professional.", she gushes. Lena is the polar opposite of me. Maybe that is why I enjoy her company so much. Her bubbly character contrasts with my straightforwardness and that makes us one hell of a team.

"Thank you, Lena. I couldn't have done anything without your assistance.", I say.

I leave the courtroom with a smile on my face. This lawsuit is not going to last for long. Neither does the prosecution have strong evidence, but Mr. Wellson is going to take awhile, recovering from what just happened. I walk along the street behind the court, not wanting to go home so soon.

I walk down the street and I encounter a bookshop that I've never seen there before. It looked cozy, with vines entangling the board that said "Julien and Brothers: a bookshop like never before". The board was barely visible, and I heard purring coming from within the shop. I push the half open glass door, and near the entrance a black floof ball is grooming herself, purring slightly then and now.

I walk into the store, and look around. The books looked dusty and old, the shelves looking like they'd crumble at any moment. I look around the fiction section, wanting to read something nice. I planned to visit a coffee shop, curl up and spend some time there, flipping through a book. I browse the section, to see that most of the books were classics. I grab a copy of Pride and Prejudice, and flip through it. The book looks old enough for it to look like the original edition. I replace the book on the shelf, and I walk around.

I find a collection of Whitman's poems and I find it fit enough for a nice midday read. I grab the copy, and a few romance novels. After all, a girl's got to live, you know. I head to the counter, to find not a soul at sight.

"Hey is anyone here?", I called out.

Crickets. I walk around some more, hoping that some employee might walk in. or return from a break, or whatever employees do. After a bit, I get tired of waiting and decide to leave some loose change in exchange for the books. When I head to the counter this time, I find the cat from the entrance, staring at me from the desk at the counter.

"Aw you're a little cutie aren't you?", I say, petting her. She purrs softly, rubbing herself against my hands. Suddenly an old man appears from below the desk.

"Oh hey there. Didn't see anyone come in. What can I do for you today?", the old man asks.

"Gosh you gave me such a fright. I would like these books please. And pardon me for asking, but what in hell were you doing under that table?", I ask, slightly unnerved.

"I just dropped this pen you see.", he shows a bright purple pen, with stars on its side. "My brother gave it to me before he died. Emotional attachment.", he says, gazing at the pen.

He quickly looks up and stares at me, meeting my eyes confidently.

"Hey, I think you might need this pen.", so he extended his hands towards me, palm facing forward. I look at him with confusion, thinking why a stranger would offer me an object of such importance.

"No thank you, just the books please.", I say, drawing my lips into a thin line.

"No, I insist.", saying so he shoves the pen into my hand. "The books cost 20 dollars. Only cash please.", he says, his eyes glinting, almost..mischievously?

I accept the pen, considering that I have nothing else I can do in this situation. I rummage in my bag, trying to find my purse.

"Her name's Julien. The cat I mean. I saw you playing with her earlier.", he says.

"She's adorable.", I say with a small smile.

I finally found my purse and handed the cash to him. He accepts it with a smile and says, "This bookshop is going to stay here for a while. Visit when you get the time. Or when the need arises." The last part was weird. I brush it off either way, say a thank you, and head out the door.

I roll the pen between my fingers, my other hand clutching the bag of books. The smooth body of the pen, the cool blue texture of the pen, strangely comforting. Eyes forward, walking tall, I walk to the coffeeshop. It's one of my favorite places in almost the entire world, fingers still around that pen.

I go to the coffeeshop, the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans wafting into my nose. A row of plants decorate the window sill beside the entrance, some of which I take care of almost everyday. I look at the counter, to find Peggy, my best and only friend.

"Hi Jenny! I missed you so much, how did your case go today?", she asks.

"Hi Pegs, it went wonderful as usual. Mr. Wellson was the prosecution. Lord I hate that man.", I say.

"Oh Peter? That nasty man, he was all over me during that party, despite him being like decades younger than me. You know the one you dragged me to? He gives me the heeby jeebies, eugh.", she says, shuddering.

"Not only that but he sucks at being a lawyer. Like he genuinely should've applied for a regular desk job instead. But I hate to admit it, he did pretty well today. Not a match for me of course, but still, not too bad.", I say.

"I'm sure you did wonderful, Jen, I know you.", she says, trying to console me.

"Thank you, Peggy, this means a lot to me. You're getting off this shift soon, right?", I ask.

"Yeah, like right now. Bye Jen, give me a call later.", she says with a smile, removing her apron.

I smile back and say, "Yeah, I will. Bye, Pegs."

I watch her go out the back, and scan the menu. I order an iced coffee, hand over the cash and walk to my favorite spot in the restaurant. It's almost impossible to find at first glance, hidden behind an extension of the wall. It shows a clear view of the street, owing to an arched window. Thankfully, no one walks by that window often, so I can usually enjoy my book in peace.

I settle down in the plush chair, elbows on the table. Mother always taught me to sit up straight, shoulders back, and honestly it's the only worthwhile lesson she's ever taught me.

I choose the compilations of Whitman's poetry, and flip through the pages. I land upon A Noiseless Patient Spider.

"A noiseless patient spider,

I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isolated,

Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,

It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,

Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them …"

I remember reading this poem in grade school, and absolutely loving it. I used to flaunt my knowledge in poetry and literature, especially when I used to read poems beforehand, before they were assigned in the class. I sigh deeply, those were the good days, guarded by childhood's innocence of a happy world-

The waiter interrupts my train of thought, handing me my iced coffee.

I thank him, and glance out the window. Surprisingly, there was a tall Asian woman walking her dog in those very streets. I gaze at her dark hair falling onto her shoulders, glossy and straight. Her face animated with frustration, her dog yapping at her feet. She yells into her phone in Mandarin, and given my Singaporean descent, I am pretty familiar with the language. She suddenly stops in her tracks and takes a deep breath.

"Why can't you stop nagging at me, Mom, it doesn't matter if my GPA has dropped slightly. What matters is that my mental health is doing much better. And yes, it is a real thing, Mom, I promise I'll get my GPA up by next semester. Please stop comparing me with Ren, he took arts not computer science!?", she says.

Distinct muttering could be heard, I could only assume her mother's reply to her outburst. Kids these days are honestly what I would've loved to be at their age. I respect them for their critical thinking, despite their rudeness to their parents, but granted my own child being so prudish, I wouldn't say the kids are completely wrong.

I hear my phone ringing suddenly, and the young woman jumps, looking around for the source of sound. I put down the book, and rummage into my bag, where is that goddamn mobile? I finally find it and the caller ID showing my legal assistant's name, I urgently pick it up. "Hey what happened? Didn't we just finish at court?", I ask.

"Yeah, but I found out that Mr. Rowley saw another man getting into Jessica's house, just after he left for Mr. Douglas'. It would be wonderful if you could make it to the office, and collect an official statement. Also, I'm so sorry for interrupting your private time, but this is extremely important.", she says.

"Of course, I'll be there soon. Would you mind picking me up? I'm around a twenty minute walk from my car but considering the urgency, it would be quicker for you to pick me up, that's if you're free of course.", I say.

"Of course, I'll send a car. Jot down his number.", she says,

"Okay ,give me a second.", I grab the pen gifted by the old man, and uncap it.

"Yes, the number?", I ask.

"55", she says.

I note the numbers down, and as soon as the pen hits the napkin, my eyelids suddenly become heavy.

"37", she says.

I don't think I can stay awake anymore. My eyes shut on its own accord, my head hitting the table, phone falling onto the floor.

"Hello? Hello Jenny?", I hear my assistant distinctly say, before I slip into oblivion.