Authors: Derek Blass
“
Not guilty.” The two words fell like anvils. Cruz dropped his head and tears formed in his eyes. Sandra threw her arms around him and started to cry as well. Mason pounded his fists down on the table. The gallery erupted. Some people cheered, others screamed bloody murder. Lost in the mix of noise was Judge Melburn banging his gavel. Cruz looked over at Shaver through a veil of tears and the man was the same, emotionless. A remote, heartless human being, stranded on his own island of hate.
The crowd outside could sense that something had happened. Sandra openly took her cell phone out and texted Andre the news. Moments later the crowd erupted. Cruz went to the back window as the crowd outside revolted in waves extending away from the courthouse. Sirens immediately began to sound. Men screamed into bullhorns. The lines of national guardsmen on the steps of the courthouse braced for the worst. Cruz turned around to see that the judge was gone. Shaver and Sphinx were gone too. He pushed through he people that had gathered behind him and ran out of the courtroom. Sandra saw him moving and tried to keep up.
Cruz caught a glimpse of Shaver's back just as he turned for the front doors of the courthouse. He sprinted to catch up, not sure what he would do if he caught up, but sprinting nonetheless. He slid around the corner and then jetted to the front doors. Shaver and Sphinx were already outside. He barreled through the doors and was momentarily stunned by the sun. That's when he heard a crack. His shoulder suddenly burned hot. He grabbed at his shoulder and came away with a hand of blood.
“
What the...” But before he could get the sentence out, two more cracks sounded. Cruz fell to the ground. His shoulder was howling in pain. He felt weak and heard thumping sounds as police shot canisters of tear gas into the crowd, which had gone mad like a disturbed anthill. Sandra fell on top of him and whispered to him, “Cruz, are you okay?” He felt everything start to go black around him. His head fell to the side, the sharp edge of a stair pressing into his temple. That's when he saw Shaver sprawled out on the steps. A line of scarlet blood was streaming down from where Shaver rested. Sphinx was off to the side, crouched behind one of the columns supporting the courthouse. Cruz fought off the darkness and strained to see beyond Shaver. There was a commotion down toward where he remembered the handicap area being. A man was fighting off several policemen as they picked him up out of his wheelchair. Sandra looked over to see what was going on, and when she saw who they had, she screamed, “Raul!!!!”
E P I L O G U E
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R E V E L A T I O N
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S
phinx rested with his head propped up on the palm of his left hand. He aimlessly stirred his coffee and watched steam rise from the cup into the air. “Appropriate metaphor for life...” he muttered.
“
What's that?”
Sphinx looked up at Cruz, mildly abashed after letting that thought escape his mind. “Oh, nothing. Where were we?”
Cruz shifted in his seat and leaned over toward Sphinx. “Look, I appreciate you invited me this time instead of kidnapping me, but stop wasting my damn time. I've been watching you ruminate over a cup of coffee, which is black as tar and yet you're stirring it as if it's loaded with cream and sugar. Cut the melodrama and get to the point.”
“
You're right...but I need to give you some background first.”
Cruz sighed and crossed his arms. This was pure Sphinx—Spotlight Sphinx—Cruz thought to himself with a half-hearted chuckle. When Sphinx didn't start talking, Cruz gestured to him to go on.
“
I was disconcerted by the trial and how it unfolded.”
“
Your client's death too...?” Cruz said pointedly.
“
Not so much.” Cruz quickly raised his eyebrows. “The trial, the trial, the trial. There was something wrong with it.”
“
You mean the plain obviousness of it being fixed?”
“
Fixed? That's more for horse races or boxing matches. It was...altered.”
“
Semantics. I don't care what you call it, the judge's preclusion of that evidence was downright...hold on. Let me pry into the vortex that is Sphinx's mind. You're upset, aren't you? Personally upset, not about anything related to anyone else, such as your client.”
Sphinx raised the glass of hot coffee to his lips in a smooth swing of his arm. The dark liquid slightly burnt the roof of his mouth as it rolled into his throat. “I can neither confirm nor deny that emotion.”
“
For fuck's sake, Sphinx. You're acting like a prima donna. This is all about you and how upset you are that you didn't win on the merits of your skill? I should have known.”
“
Don't go that far.”
“
Stop being such a kid. You had this nagging feeling that you won because of higher forces, assuming there could be a higher force than
the Sphinx
. So, did you invite me here to shed some tears and get this out? You know I'm not your friend, right?”
“
In any event, you can cut out the criticism.” Sphinx looked around at the busy caf
é
. The people's swarm was enough to generate a low-level white noise, sufficient to mask their conversation. “I started digging a bit and the ground fell out from beneath me like sand.”
“
Digging at what?”
“
The case, Judge Melburn, our facts, everything. I spent nearly a week straight pouring over the case documents. I should have moved on, but something wouldn't let me.”
“
Sphinx, that's called conscience.”
“
It's a bitch. Day and night I looked for something to justify my own work and the reason we won. But I couldn't find it. We won because that video was excluded, plain and simple, and I had no idea why it was excluded until I got to Shaver's trial notes.”
“
He was taking notes during trial?”
“
Yes, almost a full yellow pad. Ramblings, sketching, thoughts on jurors, the judge,
me
.”
“
How were his notes relevant to the video though?” Sphinx looked into Cruz's eyes with an intensity and simultaneous softness, almost an “I'm sorry,” that caught Cruz off guard. “You aren't going to cry, are you?”
Sphinx snickered and pulled a piece of yellow paper from a pocket inside his suit jacket. He put the paper on the table in front of himself, paused a moment, and then slid it over to Cruz with all the ominousness of an undercover delivery of a package of top secret information. Cruz put his hand on the piece of paper and just as he was about to pick it up, Sphinx stopped Cruz with his own hand. They looked at each other—one man bewildered, the other impassioned.
“
You need some context first. I was alone, confused and trying to figure out what had happened. I played no part in any of it.”
Cruz removed his hand from the paper and sat back, his sunken eyes peering at Sphinx. The week since the trial had offered no catharsis or rest for him either. Raul was facing charges of first degree murder. The case against him seemed to be tight. His only defense was heat of the passion, based upon the loss of his legs. It was an attenuated argument since so much time had passed between when he lost his legs and when he killed Shaver. Cruz tried to explain this to Carmen once, but she just shook her head and wept. For what it was worth, Raul seemed at peace with his decision.
Sandra had been elevated to a position of deity within the news station for uncovering such a hog of a story. She was promoted to the female anchor on the evening news, and in the midst of a drunken wake after the trial, Cruz proposed to her. He reconfirmed the intention with her the next day when they both weren't so trashed, although both of them had kept the engagement secret so far.
Martinez retired from the police force, overwhelmed with a mixture of shame, pride, satisfaction and disappointment. Shame from being associated with a monster like Shaver, and the shame which he unfairly squared on his shoulders related to the trial loss. Cruz rubbed his forehead as these thoughts coursed through his mind. He and Martinez had met to take an aimless stroll through the drenched city a few days after the trial and the morning after a nightlong thunderstorm. Cruz recalled the thick, refreshing air refilling him with some semblance of life and hope. Martinez explained that his ultimate disappointment did not derive from the trial. Instead, he felt as if he did not fulfill a promise to Williams—the promise that release of the video would reach international magnitude.
With all of these competing thoughts, exultations and sorrows racing through his mind, Cruz lowered his voice and sternly said to Sphinx, “You've missed something throughout this entire process, Sphinx. The importance of the video can't be overshadowed by your own ego. It was a symbol of injustice—the murder of a hapless member of our society by another member of our society wielding all of its power. Sure, this happens on a daily basis amongst civilians, but to have what should be a most trusted member of our society commit a crime like this...what does it say about us? Is everyone touched by darkness? Isn't there a group of men or women outside the influence of hatred and discrimination? A very fine thread of hope existed in our society that the answer is 'yes' and that perhaps police officers are those people.” Cruz paused before concluding, “The video demonstrates that the thread of hope has been cut, and that we can trust no one in this world.”
“
Hobbes finally wins out...”
Cruz fell silent, as did Sphinx. “What happened?” Cruz asked quietly.
Sphinx locked his arms in a circle around his cup of coffee. A woman bumped into Sphinx as she walked past and startled both of them. Returning his attention to Cruz, Sphinx said, “I had to search, Cruz. I was desperate to know how things happened. When I saw that note you're holding, I had to search.” Sphinx flicked his hand at the piece of paper as if to prompt Cruz to finally open it. So Cruz did.
The piece of paper was folded neatly lengthwise and then again crosswise. Cruz slowly pulled the corners of the paper apart, in a show of reverence to Sphinx. Once he finally got it open, he had to let his eyes and mind adjust to the scrawl. There were scribbled drawings of towers and large, unending mazes. Words were scattered around the page like the remains of the ocean's contents on a beach. Near the bottom-middle of the page was a sentence, the words clearly written, almost with computer-like precision. “Warden did his job with the judge.” A shiver bolted down Cruz's back and his heart fell into his stomach.
Sphinx, seeing the pallor cast over Cruz's face, went on, “I felt the same way. Something was wrong, Cruz, do you understand that?”
Finding his voice Cruz responded, “I do now...”
“
Not the whole thing, Cruz—not the whole thing. That little piece of damn paper drove me to dig further into the quicksand. I went to Shaver's house.”
Cruz's cell phone rang. It was Martinez.
“
You can take that, I need a refill of this coffee.”
“
No,” Cruz said as he silenced the phone, “go on.”
Sphinx rattled the cup of coffee around in his big hands and said, “Shaver mentioned a list once during trial. It was almost like something uttered while he was asleep. It sounded like '...list'll get me out'. When he said it I saw him freeze, but I was too immersed in the trial to think more of it. In fact, it had completely disappeared from my consciousness until I saw that piece of paper. I went to his house looking for that list.”
“
Did you find it?” Cruz asked with bated breath.
“
I did, and I don't want it anymore.” He hurriedly took a square, leather-bound notebook from his jacket pocket and shoved it towards Cruz.
“
Hold on! Why don't you want it? Shouldn't you be trying to protect your client?!”
Sphinx scoffed and jammed his hands into his pockets. “He's dead and I've got a shrunk heart, goddammit. I need to do something so just take the damn notebook.” When Cruz hesitated, Sphinx added, “Take the damn thing before I change my mind!” Sphinx sat there, a man obviously embroiled with competing emotions of good and bad. It was powerful to watch someone choose good.
Sphinx stood up, took his hands out of his pockets and leaned on the table. “That list, Cruz, that list could have been very valuable to me. It's everything. Your release of the video, it made a local sensation of a story and even garnered national attention. But, the information in that notebook implicates so much more. The horror in the delicate words of those pages will shock
the world
.” Sphinx seemed to be possessed, confused by the words streaming out of his mouth.