Authors: Chris Taylor
Daniel listened to the quiet murmur of voices drifting into him from Josie’s kitchen. He ought to be frightened of them. After all, they were both giving evidence for the prosecution. His lawyer had explained the process and although Daniel hadn’t really wanted to know, he’d listened just the same. The prosecution would call their witnesses who would do their best to convince the judge that Daniel had done wrong. Then Daniel would get a turn.
But the truth was, both Josie and Chase had shown him nothing but kindness and he couldn’t help but be grateful for that. Okay, so tomorrow she was going to tell the judge that he’d meant to kill the man who’d raped his mother and that was fine with him.
He
had
meant it. Neil Whitcomb had hurt his mother. The man deserved to die. It was as simple as that.
He turned over on his side to face his little brother. His pajamas, whilst a little large and smelling totally unfamiliar, were soft and comfortable, like the sheets on his bed. It was the first time in more than a month that’d he’d slept in clothes and linens that were fresh and clean.
It wasn’t his dad’s fault. Daniel was old enough to fill the washing machine. It’s just that it had always been his mom who’d taken care of that kind of stuff. Clean clothes, hot meals, packed lunches. Before all this, he’d never given it any real thought. That kind of thing just happened. Now he wished he’d told his mom more often how much he appreciated everything she did.
Tears burned behind his eyes and he bit his lip to prevent a sob, not wanting to upset his brother who slept in the bed beside his. Despite his best efforts, moisture leaked out of his eyes and slid slowly down his cheeks.
He sighed and swiped at the tears and then put a hand against his stomach. His belly was full and he slept in a comfortable bed. He only wished he could somehow fill the emptiness in his heart and find something that could take away the sure knowledge that everything was his fault.
His little brother stirred in his sleep and then turned on his side to face him. Daniel saw the glint of Jason’s eyes in the faint light that drifted in through the window. “Are you awake?” he whispered.
“Yes,” his brother answered and then followed it up with a yawn. A moment later, he added softly, “I like it here.”
Fresh tears flooded Daniel’s eyes and he bit down hard on a sob. “I miss Mom,” he gasped and then turned away to face the wall.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Josie leaned back against the counter in the staff tea room and took a long, slow sip of her morning coffee, savoring the rich aromatic taste. She closed her eyes to enjoy one last moment of the morning’s solitude. She was due in court at ten and although she’d cleared her schedule, after leaving Daniel at the courthouse with his lawyer and dropping Jason off at school, she’d stopped by her office in order to once again go over her evidence. The prosecutor expected her report would be tendered to the court without objection, but then the cross examination would begin.
Blake Harton Junior was a man whose reputation preceded him. Coming from a long line of lawyers and a couple of Supreme Court judges, Harton had cut his teeth defending small-time crooks and drug dealers in the Local Court. Eventually, he’d graduated to the District Court where his clients ranged from murderers, hard core criminals engaged in drug importation and distribution and worse. He was a tough defense lawyer who had a reputation for carving up a witness like a moist Thanksgiving turkey. While Josie was relieved to discover someone had secured excellent legal defense for Daniel, she was dreading the cross examination by his lawyer.
With coffee in hand, she read the first page of her report again and sighed.
“It’s a bit early in the morning to be looking so glum, isn’t it? Surely things aren’t as bad as that?”
Doctor Rohan Wheeler’s teasing smile displayed his perfect white teeth. His brown eyes sparkled with humor. Josie couldn’t help but smile back at him.
“Sorry, I’m just going over my report on Daniel Logan. His competency hearing begins today in the District Court. I’m squaring off with Blake Harton Jr. He’s been engaged on behalf of Daniel.”
The doctor let out a whistle. “I’m impressed. Someone must have plenty of money. A barrister of Harton’s quality doesn’t come cheap.”
“Yes. I’m not sure who’s footing the bill, but I’m pleased Daniel’s getting competent counsel. Besides, if the matter proceeds to trial, it will be heard in the Supreme Court.”
“So, what’s happening today?”
“I’ve been told by the prosecutor that I’ll be on the stand right after the investigating officers. My report’s instrumental to the prosecution’s argument that Daniel’s competent to stand trial.”
Rohan compressed his lips and nodded. “Good luck with it. With Harton on the attack, you’re going to need it.”
Josie grimaced and then took another sip of coffee. “Yes, I’m afraid you’re probably right.”
“How about we meet at The Bullet later? You’ll probably need a stiff drink or two by the time you get through on the stand.”
Josie nodded and smiled. “I’d hazard a guess that you’ll be right again, Doctor Wheeler.” Her thoughts landed fleetingly on Chase and the last time she’d been to The Bullet. She determinably pushed them away. “Sounds like a plan. Court finishes at four. What time can you get away?”
* * *
Chase stepped down from the witness box after undergoing a rigorous cross examination from Blake Harton Jr, of the evidence tendered in Chase’s statement. Relieved that it was over, he shot a glance in Daniel’s direction to gauge how the boy was faring. He sat in the dock and was flanked by two corrections officers. To Chase’s relief, he looked solemn, but composed.
Chase took a seat near the prosecutor. Senior Sergeant John Wall was a veteran in the courtroom. Large in life and in stature, he’d been with the prosecutor’s office in Watervale for as long as Chase could remember. The man won more than he lost and he always played fair. Chase held John in high regard and was pleased to have him on his side.
The judge asked the prosecutor to call his next witness and when Josie’s name sounded throughout the courtroom, Chase turned to look toward the door from where the witnesses entered.
She was dressed in a smart, navy pin-stripe suit. The fitted jacket emphasized her curves and the skirt skimmed the top of her knees. Shapely calves were encased in navy stockings. She wore a pair of three-inch heels that only added to her above-average height.
Her hair shone like burnished gold and had been pulled back and secured in a bun at the nape of her neck. After all these years, he still remembered what it felt like to free it from the constraints of her ponytail. Soft and silk-like, it would flow over his fingers, enveloping him in the sweet scent of her shampoo. His hands fisted at the memory, almost as if the silky strands were once again within his reach.
Josie took her place in the witness stand and it was then that he noticed her pallor. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and her lips were taut with nerves. His heart went out to her. She wasn’t a cop. Unlike him, she wasn’t used to giving evidence. In fact, it was quite possible this was the first time she’d ever taken the stand. He compressed his lips and sympathized with the tension that held her body in its grip.
John went through the motions and Josie’s report was tendered without objection, but it was far from over. Harton came to his feet and Chase watched Josie draw in a deep breath and let it out with a slight shudder. He understood her fear. Harton’s reputation for shredding the prosecution witnesses was legendary and despite what Chase had told her, Josie’s report was the only thing standing between Harton’s client being committed for trial and a defense application to the judge that there was no case to answer.
Knowing that the next few minutes she’d endure on the witness stand would be brutal, Chase braced himself for the onslaught. He stared at her until he caught her eye and did his best to convey his support. He offered her a smile of encouragement and was gratified when she responded with a tiny smile of her own. It was enough to leave him feeling lighter than he had since he’d left her the night before.
Harton went in hard and fast, as Chase expected him to. Josie held her own against him and Chase couldn’t help but feel proud. Her responses to Harton’s questions were answered with cool and calm deliberation. Despite Harton’s best attempts, he couldn’t shake Josie from her professional opinion and belief that Daniel Logan had capacity to stand trial.
It wasn’t as if Chase wanted to see Daniel go to jail. In fact, he’d personally seen to it that Daniel was afforded the best representation in the region, but as a police officer, he needed to see that the laws would be fairly applied, no matter the age of the defendant or the circumstances. Those factors were applicable when considering a sentence, not for determining guilt. It was an important distinction and one he wholeheartedly supported.
It didn’t mean he was happy about it. There would be no winners here today. Whether or not Daniel was committed for trial, no one would leave the courtroom happy. The whole tragic situation was downright depressing and sad, but there was nothing left to do but to leave it in the hands of the justice system and hope that things turned out all right.
* * *
Daniel listened to his barrister pepper the woman on the stand with pointed questions. He should have been pleased she was getting a grilling. After all, without her evidence, the prosecution had no proof he’d known what he did was wrong.
His barrister had already told him the interview he’d given to Josie that night in the police station would be inadmissible. He was twelve. Despite Josie’s presence, the interview should never have been conducted without a parent, guardian or lawyer present. He wondered if she knew that.
She’d been nothing but kind to him, despite her role in the matter and it saddened him to hear the tension in her voice as she answered the raft of questions fired at her from his lawyer.
Daniel understood the man was merely doing his job and he was beyond grateful for the lawyer’s presence. He’d lost count of the number of people who’d told him how lucky he was to have secured the services of a barrister with the standing of Blake Harton Jr.
He had to admit, the man looked as impressive as he sounded. Way tall and broad shouldered, he stood strong and commanding at the bar table. He was bright eyed and clean shaven and his black gown was large and intimidating. He wore a cream-colored wig that should have looked weird but seemed to add to his air of authority.
But no matter how many times Harton tried to rattle the woman on the stand, she remained calm and unruffled and her answers didn’t vary. In her opinion, the defendant (that was him) knew that what he was doing was wrong. He knew more than in merely a naughty sense that his actions were against the law. He’d taken courses on gun safety and had passed. Proper use of a firearm was part of that course. He appreciated that those who broke the law would be punished. He thought that this was only fair. He agreed that he’d shot Neil Whitcomb dead and he expressed no remorse for his actions.
By the end of it, even Harton seemed to give up. With a soft sigh and a grimace, the lawyer advised the court he had no further questions of Josie and quietly regained his seat.
Daniel stared at her. A brief spurt of anger flared to life and just as quickly died. It wasn’t her fault. She was only telling the truth.
He
was the reason they were all there. Everything came back to him: If he hadn’t woken and found the man, if he hadn’t gotten the gun. If he hadn’t blown the man’s head off and then admitted he was glad he did. That he’d do it again to save his mom.
It was all his fault, every last second of it. His family had been torn apart. His mother was dead. His father wanted to join her. He hadn’t been told in so many words, but it didn’t take a genius to work it out. He’d heard a whisper around the school yard that his dad had been found with a shotgun; that he was going to blow his head off. Now his dad was in a loony ward, too sick to even see them.
Daniel ought to do everyone a favor and just turn the gun on himself. That’s how it went in the movies. The gunman always took it in the head. If it wasn’t the cops who got him, he made sure he did the job himself.
Josie stood and made her way out of the witness box and he watched her measured descent. She glanced in his direction, but he looked away. He couldn’t give her the reassurance she no doubt sought from him. He had nothing to give anyone—not even himself.
His chest tightened with emotion and sudden tears burned behind his eyes. She cared about him and his brother. He knew she did. He wished he was whole enough to return the sentiment.
A sob caught in the back of his throat. It had been so long since he felt he mattered to anyone. He missed his mom. God, how he missed her. It was like a heavy ache deep within him, penetrating to the depths of his soul and it wouldn’t go away. As if he’d just woken from a dream, he finally understood the permanency of it all—he’d never see her again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Josie pushed back a strand of hair that had escaped her sensible bun and ordered a drink from the barman. The day had been long and trying and she was glad it was almost over. At least her time in the witness box had come to an end. She thought she’d done rather well under the circumstances even if the formidable Blake Harton Junior had left her feeling rattled. She hoped she’d managed to maintain an air of professional confidence on the stand, despite the fact she’d been shaking like the windows in a hurricane beneath her calm exterior.