Authors: Carys Jones
‘I’d say, in my opinion, a good father embraces their son’s chosen spouse, treats them as a daughter. Yet you openly admit that you were never kind to Brandy, even though Brandon loved her. That doesn’t sound like a good father to me.’
‘This has nothing to do with why she killed my son!’ He slammed his fist against the dark wood of the stand as real tears of frustration pricked his eyes.
‘Maybe it has everything to do with it,’ Aiden taunted. ‘You didn’t know Brandon well enough to understand why he loved Brandy and had made her his wife. If you failed to understand a choice this monumental in your son’s life, what else about him didn’t you get? It seems to me that he was basically a stranger to you, so how can you swear that he never struck his young wife?’
‘He wouldn’t do that, I know my boy.’
‘Actually, you’ve made it clear that you didn’t know him at all.’
Clyde White was seething. He was being made to look a fool at his dead son’s trial. Aiden Connelly was cocky but also cunning which was a most infuriating combination.
‘Would Brandy visit your home much, at Christmases, birthdays?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about any other times? She lived in the same town, it would make sense if you saw her on a weekly basis. Yet you didn’t.’
‘She only came over on holidays.’
‘Why was that?’
‘We didn’t like her, she didn’t care for our company much, it was mutual.’
‘Mrs. White claims to have seen you as a father figure, sounds like she liked you an awful lot.’
Clyde White looked over at Brandy. Her head was down so that he couldn’t see her eyes, only her halo of golden hair.
‘Do you think that maybe she didn’t come round as she was covered in cuts and bruises that Brandon didn’t want you to see?’
‘No, I don’t think that.’
‘Because Brandy knew no one in town. The Whites were her only family so it shocks me that you saw so little of her. Unless she was hiding something. Did you ever see marks on her?’
The businessman was silent.
‘Remember you are under oath, Mr. White. Did you ever see any marks on Brandy White?’
‘Occasionally, she had a black eye or a cut lip, maybe. But she was a clumsy oaf of a girl.’
‘So, on the very few occasions that you did see your daughter-in-law, she displayed marks which could have been inflicted upon her by violent means? This clearly indicates that Mrs. White was, more often than not, bruised and battered. And as for your reasoning that these wounds were the outcome of clumsy behavior –’ Aiden motioned over to Brandy ‘– she has the delicate frame of a ballerina, far from that of a clumsy oaf. I find it hard to believe that someone as dainty as she would be regularly losing her footing.’
The trial was going well, really well. He had successfully navigated his way past the two heavyweights that were Buck Fern and Clyde White. Now all that was left was for Father West to deliver his testimony and they would be on the home straight. Court was adjourned for a much-needed break so Aiden went to seek out the riest.
Aiden scanned the corridors as he wandered off to get a coffee. People were getting drinks, discussing how the trial was progressing; all of them gave him scowling glares as he walked past. He knew it was going to be tough so he took their anger in his stride.
‘You are doing well, my boy!’ Edmond slapped Aiden on the back as he was pouring himself a drink.
‘Thank you, Edmond.’ He noticed that his colleague was looking about nervously, probably because he didn’t want anyone seeing him offering the young lawyer any encouragement; his reputation was still intact and he wanted to keep it that way.
‘Buck and Clyde are tough nuts to crack.’
‘They sure are.’
‘Still, you’ll need an ace up your sleeve to round this all up.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Here.’ Edmond pulled a silver hip flask from beneath his jacket and tipped a little of the contents into Aiden’s coffee mug.
‘Just to give you some extra pep in your step!’ He winked.
‘I can’t drink whilst I’m working!’ Aiden was shocked.
‘Nonsense, we all do it. It’s fine lad, only a little sip, it’s nothing. It will help calm the nerves.’ He slapped Aiden on the back once more before sauntering off back to the courtroom. From the swagger in his step it seemed he had enjoyed more than a little sip that morning. When he was gone from view, Aiden tipped his coffee into a nearby plant pot.
‘Court is now in session!’ The presiding judge declared. Aiden stood up, ready to retrieve the ace from up his sleeve. He hadn’t yet seen Father West but that didn’t bother him. The priest had told him he’d show and the word from a man of God was as strong as oak. He wasn’t worried.
‘I’d like to call to the stand Father Patrick West.’ Gasps and whispers swept through the assortment of characters present as they received the scandalous news that a priest would be testifying, for the accused killer no less! The whispers died down and a silence settled over the room. Aiden looked out at the sea of faces, most of which were vaguely familiar, but none were that of Father West. Now, he began to feel nervous.
‘Where is your witness?’ the judge asked, clearly annoyed.
‘He will be here.’
People were getting restless and beginning to snigger. Where the hell was he? Five minutes passed and still no priest.
‘Mr. Connelly, approach the bench,’ the judge ordered. ‘Where is your witness?’ He lowered his voice so that only Aiden could hear, even though the crowd leant forward and strained to listen.
‘He said he’d be here. If I could just go and call him, he must have been detained.’
‘Is this a stalling tactic?’
‘No, no, I swear.’
‘You have five minutes and not a second more.’
Aiden dashed out of the courtroom cell phone in hand and frantically dialled the number for Father West’s church. Six rings, seven rings.
‘Pick up, pick up,’ he muttered angrily.
Ten rings, eleven rings.
‘Dammit!’ He punched his fist against the wall in frustration.
‘Something wrong?’ The concerned voice belonged to Edmond.
‘Looks like I just lost my ace.’ Aiden leant against the wall and slumped to the ground.
‘You were going to put Father West on the stand?’
‘He knew everything. He even tried to reason with Brandon to stop him hurting Brandy any more. He told me he’d be here.’
‘Coming here and testifying against Brandon White, he had a lot to lose, son. Don’t surprise me he didn’t show.’
‘What do I do now?’
Edmond saw fear in the young man’s eyes.
‘Have you called him?’
‘Yeah, no answer.’
‘Do you think that you can stall for any longer?’
‘Not really, why?’
Edmond Cope was already dashing off down the corridor.
‘Just stall!’ he yelled. ‘I’ll call as soon as I have news.’
It went against Aiden’s principles but he lied, saying he had a family emergency that he had to quickly attend to. The judge saw right through it but granted him an extended break all the same. He had thirty minutes to find Father West. He continued calling the church but to no avail. All his hopes were pinned on Edmond.
‘Stalling, are we?’ Buck Fern cornered Aiden in the corridor, a sly grin spread across his old face.
‘Just have some things that I have to attend to.’
‘You are just delaying the inevitable.’
‘How do you sleep at night?’ Aiden spat, too stressed and anxious to play games with the sheriff.
‘Like a baby,’ he laughed. Aiden pushed past him and dialled the church again. Ring after ring with no answer. Time was running out.
Suddenly his cell phone sprang to life in his hands, alerting him to an incoming call.
‘Hello?’
‘Mr. Connelly?’ It was Father West!
‘Where the hell are you?’ Aiden ducked into the men’s toilets to get some privacy.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘When are you getting here? We don’t have much time!’
‘I’m not.’
‘Wh…what do you mean you’re not!’ He was furious.
‘I can’t do it, I’m sorry.’ The line went dead.
‘She’s going to die, you prick, how can you do this!’ he yelled into his handset before throwing it across the floor. He leant against a sink and let his head fall into his hands.
‘Aiden.’ Edmond came into the toilet, breathless. ‘I’m sorry, son, there is a right crowd outside, I couldn’t even get off the car park, and I’ve been trying for twenty minutes. I had to just give up in the end.’
‘It’sOK, he just called.’
‘And?’
‘He’s not coming.’
‘Shit.’
‘I think I’ll take that drink now.’
The trial resumed, minus Father West. Aiden tried not to let Brandy see how defeated he felt. Perhaps the evidence he had accumulated would be enough? He lived in hope. He delivered his closing statement to the jury and begged them to be humane to Brandy.
‘Brandy White is more than a victim of circumstance. She was routinely bullied, beaten and broken down by a man who had vowed to love and protect her. She had no choice but to take his life as she was acting in self-defence. If she had not killed him, he would have killed her, there is no doubt about that. Spare her life, do not let him win.’
He rarely ever spoke to God, he was unsure if he even existed, but he offered up a prayer all the same.
‘Don’t let her die.’ It was a reasonable enough request.
The twenty minutes that the jury took to deliberate their verdict felt like twenty days. Aiden paced the corridor relentlessly. Around him, people whispered and prophesied on what the outcome may be. They all wanted the same thing: Brandy’s blood.
‘Whatever the verdict, you are detached, remember?’ Edmond placed a hand upon Aiden’s shoulder as he spoke quietly into his ear.
‘Yeah, of course.’ But he wasn’t detached, far from it. He was involved.
As he sat back down beside Brandy, facing the judge, his heart was pounding so loud he was sure that the entire room was being deafened by it. A persistent drum that was gaining in speed, like a war cry. His palms were sweaty and his leg was twitching uncontrollably. The last time he had felt this tense was when Isla had sat on the toilet, peed onto a stick and they had had to sit and watch it for two minutes. He hadn’t liked the outcome then, but ultimately it had made him happy. Brandy’s life being spared would make him happy, it would restore his faith in humanity. Just like in the Disney movies that his daughter was so terribly fond of, someone wishes upon a star and something amazing can happen. Maybe, here, today, something amazing was going to happen. Justice would surely be served.
‘We have reached our verdict.’
A slip of white paper was passed to the judge. He read the writing upon it with an expressionless face. With a flat tone he delivered the jury’s decision:‘The court finds Brandy White guilty of first degree murder.’
In the courtroom people rose to their feet, applauding, as Aiden felt the world around him slipping away. He leant against the table to steady himself, breathing deeply, trying to remain calm and composed. Brandy’s eyes were wide with fear and sadness. People were whooping and cheering, embracing one another, so delighted at the revelation that a life was to end. Their reaction was more devastating than the news that she was to die. It was more than she could bear. Tears flowed down her cheeks and her body shook.
‘They hate me,’ she whispered to Aiden.
‘I don’t hate you.’
‘Stand for sentencing,’ the judge ordered as the crowd settled down. Aiden felt sick and disillusioned. How could this have happened?
‘Brandy White, I hearby sentence you to death via the gas chamber.’ Brandy collapsed sobbing into Aiden’s arms. He held her for as long as he could but the guards were trying to lead her away.
‘I’ll do something, Brandy, don’t worry. This isn’t final,’ he said, chasing after her. But it was final, he had no cards left to play. He felt defeated.
‘I’m sorry, son, it’s the way it goes sometimes.’ Edmond placed a caring arm around Aiden’s shoulders. ‘There is no one to blame.’
‘But there is,’ Aiden thought. Father West is to blame. He may as well have signed her death warrant himself. His sadness began to turn into rage. He was going to make the priest pay.
Chapter Twelve: Let God Be the Judge
Aiden looked down at his French toast which he had barely touched. He had no appetite. He had barely eaten for days, not since Brandy was sentenced. He spent his days appealing her case relentlessly but to no avail. And now today was upon him, when her sentence was due to be carried out. Today, Brandy White was to enter the gas chamber and wouldn’t come out alive. His heart was breaking whilst the rest of Avalon was jubilant. Brandon White was still their golden boy, Brandy still the vile villain who had taken him away from them. It was all so wrong.
‘I’ve got to go,’ he told Isla quietly. They were barely speaking at the moment. She sensed that she needed to tread carefully around her husband because he was wallowing in sadness, so she was giving him his space. A part of her resented his melancholy; she felt jealous of how deeply Brandy had affected him which she knew was foolish. Aiden was just a passionate, caring man. But at least the death sentence had been passed which meant that their family was safe. Isla wasn’t proud of the steps she’d taken to ensure Meegan’s safety but was certain that it would ultimately be worth it. Once Brandy had received her sentence she could move on, they all could. Yet she felt a niggling sense of pity for the woman who would soon die in the gas chamber. Having seen Brandy, it made her real, not just a name in the newspaper she could distance herself from.
‘You haven’t touched your breakfast,’ she said softly as Aiden put on his jacket.
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘But you’ve got to eat.’
‘I don’t feel like it!’ he snapped. He was exhausted through lack of sleep and his stomach refused to stop doing somersaults. He reminded himself that it would all be over soon, the anger from the people of Avalon towards him was already beginning to subside. The general consensus was that he had been manipulated by the vixen that was Brandy, bewitched by her beauty. Isla overheard their theories in the store, on the street, but she ignored them. Once Brandy was gone she would get her husband back and that was all she cared about.