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Save Me Before I Fall Down (Prologue)

Penulis: AmberFullMoon
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Adam is an attorney who loves his job and is really good at it. Too good. After leading to the acquittal of a man accused of a series of brutal murders, another is committed and the freed man is caught at the scene. Adam blames himself for the crime and feels like he is about to fall into some sort of abyss.... However, there are hands that will try to save him from falling. Will they be strong enough to do it? Will passion and perhaps some warmer feelings save Adam's heart? Or are Hubert's intentions not quite so pure? After all, he too has had his transitions, just like Adam, pursued by his black past? As gravity drags Adam down, will love be found to spread his wings and lift him high again? Join his struggle with darkness and dark romance to learn the conclusion of his story. Start reading Save Me Before I Fall Down. All characters, organizations, and events described in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to real people and events is coincidental. The book contains content inappropriate for minors.

tagar
8 tagar
Chapter 1Shock

The water flowing from the kitchen faucet drowned out the sounds of the television. Adam, who was washing the dishes, didn't pay much attention to it because there were commercials playing. In fact, having the TV on was just a way to fill the empty apartment with sound. As a lawyer dedicated to his career, Adam didn't have much time to build some sort of private life. However, he was young enough not to worry about it. Especially now that he had won a high-profile case he and the law firm he worked for could expect a rapid rise in fame and earnings.

The commercials ended and the signal of the beginning of the news program sounded.

"...Wojciech K., whose trial ended just three days ago was arrested today at the scene of the brutal murder..."

The plate fell out of Adam's hand. The young lawyer turned towards the screen which showed the police leading the handcuffed Wojciech Kwiecień. His face was covered by a sweatshirt, but Adam recognized the silhouette immediately. This was not the old footage that had been circulating on television and the web. This was something new.

"...Wojciech K., acquitted of the triple murder with special cruelty of three teenage boys, was arrested today with blood on his hands. We do not know the details of the incident, but everything indicates that the victim was a fourteen-year-old boy from Wojciech K.'s neighborhood. Our reporter..."

Adam stood staring at the TV with absolutely no understanding. He was sure he had heard something wrong. After all, it wasn't possible that Wojciech Kwiecień had been arrested at the scene of the crime. After all, he was innocent! He was innocent, wasn't he?

Adam got hot and cold at the same time. This must be some kind of joke. This can't be true. It can't be...

The ringing of the phone startled him. He was surprised to find himself reaching for the phone with a trembling hand. He answered without checking who was calling.

"Yes?"

"Counselor Adam Lechoń?

"Yes."

"Paweł Markowski from TVM. I'd like your comments on recent events. How do you feel knowing that you have freed a murderer? Will you undertake his further defense?"

"I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"Haven't you been watching the news? Wojciech Kwiecieńl killed a fourth boy. Hello? Hello? Hello?!"

Adam's hand dropped. He looked at the TV, where the pictures of the three previous victims were being shown. Photos that Lechoń knew all too well, because he had seen them a thousand times when he was preparing for the case. Three boys, aged twelve to fifteen, brutally raped and then slowly and painfully strangled. The perpetrator tied them up and then hung them from a rope that tightened around their throats. When they lost consciousness, he lowered them to the ground. He did this several times, until finally, bored with the game, he tightened the rope to death and watched the victims' lives drain away.

Police arrested a forty-seven-year-old forklift operator who lived alone. He lived near the first victim and fit the profile they had drawn up. They had no hard evidence against him and the defendant claimed he was innocent. He did it so credibly that Adam, assigned to his case, believed him to the point that he put all his skills and all his heart into fighting for his acquittal. And he won.

The case was high-profile. The victims' families did not shy away from the media demanding that the death penalty be reinstated. The verdict that eventually came down was controversial, but Adam was happy about it. He knew he had saved an innocent man's life.

But if he was innocent, how to explain the fact that he was arrested at the scene of the fourth murder?

The explanation was simple - accident, coincidence or enemy attack. Kwiecień was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps the real murderer decided to frame him thoroughly and arranged the situation in such a way that Kwiecień could not defend himself this time.

It was this thought that Lechoń clung to like a drowning man to a razor. Wojciech Kwiecień must be innocent, because if not, the death of the fourth boy will be on the hands of the man who got him out of jail.

On the hands of his lawyer, Adam Lechoń.

The phone rang again.

"Yes?"

"Counselor Adam Lechoń?" the question was exactly the same as before, but the voice was different, icy, hostile.

"Yes."

"Commissioner Waldemar Niedzic from the city police station. Do you remember me?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Two hours ago at the scene of the fourth murder we arrested your client, Wojciech Kwiecień. He refuses to testify without consulting his lawyer. He pointed you out."

"I... I'm not his lawyer anymore. The trial is over."

"So you're refusing?"

"Yes, sir. No, no, no, no, no!" Adam wasn't sure what was going on. He was really confused in his head. Then he believed him. He was sure that Kwieiceń was innocent. Now it must also be a coincidence or some kind of provocation... "I'll be there in half an hour."

***

In front of the police station, despite the late night, journalists were feeding. Adam, who easily found a place in the parking lot, decided that he would have trouble getting inside. In winter he could hide his face in the collar of his coat, under a hood or in a hat, but now, in late spring, it was simply impossible. If it was pouring, he could cover himself with an umbrella. But now he would have to face the hyenas, who would surely recognize him as he recognized some of them. However, he had no choice. If he decided to believe in Kwiecień's innocence, he would not hide like someone who had something on his conscience.

He boldly moved ahead. He was not wrong - the journalists caught up with him immediately, demanding explanations and asking dozens of questions. He did not listen to them. They were all lost in one big uproar of shouting voices. He could have broken through the crowd, ignored it completely, but if he was going to defend Kwiecień, he should have had the media on his side. So he stopped and looked at the faces around him. The flares blinded him for a moment but finally faded and the crowd quieted down waiting for his words.

"I would like to answer all your questions" Adam spoke with a calm voice perfectly modelling his tone and timbre "unfortunately I cannot. The case is so fresh for me that I do not have any information yet. I understand your impatience and desire to convey the truth to all interested in the case and, above all, to the family of the deceased boy, but I do not yet have information that I could share with you. I am sorry."

He bowed politely and moved again towards the entrance of the police station. He realized that all he had said was an extended version of "no comment," but what comment could he have without knowing the facts? Although he convinced himself of Kwiecień's innocence, he was not a priest but a lawyer, to believe someone he needed evidence of innocence or lack of evidence of guilt.

In the police station the atmosphere was even more dense than outside. Every passing policeman or civilian employee, of which there were surprisingly many for such a late night hour, threw him a murderous glance. He wasn't surprised at them. They were the ones who had apprehended Kwiecień a year ago and provided the prosecution with the evidence he had so painstakingly undermined. They had caught the killer he had let go, and now there was another victim. To them, he was enemy number one. He had no sympathy for them either. For him, they screwed up and arrested an innocent man.

Waldemar Niedzic, a guy slightly in his fifties, was talking to two uniformed men. When he saw the lawyer approaching, he gestured them away and approached Lechoń himself. His look clearly indicated who, or rather what, he considered to be the person who freed Kwiecień.

"Can you tell me about the circumstances of my client's arrest? I guess it was without a warrant?"

"A warrant? The guy was caught red-handed. He was just cleaning up the crime scene after himself."

"How did you know about this location?"

"We got a call. A homeless man was looking for a corner and saw your client over the body. He asked a passerby to call the police. Satisfied?"

"Yes, thank you. Now I'd like to see my client."

So they have an eyewitness, but he didn't witness the murder itself. Kwiecień could have been at the scene by accident, like the homeless guy, and when he realized it was a crime scene, he panicked that if the police found evidence of his presence in this place - a shoe print or a fingerprint, maybe a cigarette butt or a candy wrapper - they'd catch him and put him in jail. Therefore, he could erase his tracks.

Yes, it was logical. Stupid on Kwiecień's part, but logical. After all, someone who served a year for something he didn't do had a right to be afraid of being falsely accused again. Bad luck that someone saw him and what he feared happened - his behavior was misinterpreted.

With this conviction, Adam entered the interrogation room where the detainee was located. He brought a comforting smile to his face and was already opening his mouth to greet him when the expression on Kwiecień's face froze his heart…

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