The Midnight Hour, Part 8
He wanted to apologize but he couldn’t. Should, but wouldn’t. The Prosecution never apologize to the Defense, not in small town politics and not in a small town playing large in the city. The Defense spent too much time tucked inside a bottle, but that wasn’t his problem so no reason to low-blow his client. Bad form in such a small-large town.
Besides, he was going to win; it was a given. Open and shut. The boy killed his friend and the girl tried to take the blame. He’d never understood why girls fell all over the bad boys when nice boys, like him, never got a second look. The victim had been a good boy. Here was his chance to strike one for the good boys.
He looked over the files one more time, not that he didn’t have all the details memorized. Boys argue about girl. One boy pushed the other down a hill and second boy dies. First boy think he will get the girl, but gets arrested instead.
Open and shut.
The defense would claim accident, but this judge was tough on stupidity, which was what this trial was really about. Kids. Lust and pride and hormones, but mostly stupid. Stupid kids. Stupid girl for bring the fight to a head.
And now it was his job to rebalance the scales. Justice with a capital J.
Case prepared, notes ready; excited for another chance to dominate the courtroom. Changing the trial venue was his blessing in disguise because this case would bring him to the attention of the larger firms in the city. After this, goodbye tiny town, hello big time in the big city.
Far in the distance, the whine of a siren startled the night. A briefcase sat by the door.
To see Parts 1-7, click here.