Page 48 of Dissection of a Murder
“I’m sure you’ve seen the cell site analysis and know where it was traced. Outside Anton’s house,” I point out, monitoring his face for the tiniest shade of a reaction. He doesn’t give anything away.
“Of course I have,” he replies, refusing to look at me and continuing to eat. “It could be explained by various scenarios.”
He’s hiding something.
“Obviously, you don’t want that admitted as evidence,” I go on, undeterred. “It complicates your case, doesn’t it? Why would the defendant’s phone end up outside the victim’s house, twelve miles away, when Jack was already in police custody? How did it get there? Jack couldn’t have been in two places at once. Who took it?”
I’m pushing it, I know. But I can tell this worries him by the way he slowly inhales and lifts his eyebrows. It’s something I’ve seen him do in court, countless times, usually when an opponent presents him with a submission he doesn’t like.
One that means he can no longer win.
“Look, Leila,” he says sternly. He adopts this voice sometimes, like a father about to scold a child. He places his cutlery down onto his plate. “I know you’ve been shafted with this one. But don’t get carried away and let it ruin your credibility. Everyone is watching to see how this plays out. Stick to what’s in front of you. Don’t turn this into something it’s not.”
“Julian, I have a duty to my client to explore all avenues. Don’t you think it’s odd his phone was switched on less than an hour after he allegedly killed someone in a different location, at a time when he was detained by the police? And that location happened to be the deceased’s home? There’s a missing link here. As far as we know,before that night they weren’t personally known to each other. There’s no way this is a coincidence. Are you that desperate for a conviction you can’t even consider that someone took it and—”
“Wait,” he interrupts urgently. “Are you insinuating he wasn’t alone when he committed the murder?”
“Allegedmurder.”
He rolls his eyes at me in a dramatic manner.
“Yes, yes,alleged. Is that the angle you’ll be coming from? I mean, are those the instructions from your client? Has he specifically said that?”
“Well, no.”
“Because, as I understand it, he hasn’t given you any clear instructions regarding his defense, which is why you haven’t served a defense statement.”
“Yes, but—”
“And you know to coach him or lead him in any way would becompletelyunethical,” he preaches. This is rich, coming from him.
“Really?” I snap. “I must have missed that part after I skipped the entirety of law school. Don’t patronize me, Julian. I was merely pointing out how odd it is that Jack’s phone was found near Anton’s house on the night he was killed.”
The room goes silent as he starts to eat again. I just want to have a professional conversation about this.
“It would make a lot of sense, though. If that were the case,” I offer.
“No, we’d have something else to hang it on and, at the moment, we have nothing. There are no forensics connecting any other person to Anton. Millman’s DNA was all over him. There were limited fibers from unknown sources, but that’s because Millman’s flat was covered in multiple extracts that were unidentifiable. Christ knows how many people were in there or what goes on in that bloody club.The entire place is dripping in depravity. In any event, Millman told the police his phone was stolen hours before he was arrested. It’s entirely possible that whoever took it either lived in the village or passed through it. It’s not that remote.”
“Nonsense, Julian,” I scoff. “It’s unlike you to accept such a weak explanation. The only reason you are is because it works for you, and you don’t want the inconvenience of considering the alternative. You want a nice, tidy conviction.”
Julian doesn’t “do” getting annoyed, or rather, he doesn’t wear it on his face when he is. He stares at me now, processing what I’ve said. He won’t argue with me—I know him too well. But he knows I’m right, and he’ll hate that. His eyes don’t leave mine. It’s his way of reminding me he knows best.
That I’m not as good as him.
“The Crown will not be relying on Millman’s phone as evidence against him, so if you want to tell the jury about it, you’ll have to do it yourself. I’d highly recommend you have a credible, solid reason for doing so, though—otherwise it’ll seem that your defense is all over the place. That’s solid advice from your pupilmaster. Don’t tell anyone I told you that.”
He flashes me a quick smile, letting me know it’s OK between us, that there’s no need for things to get nasty. I rest my knife and fork on the plate and slump back into my chair.
“I’m sorry. The stress of this is getting to me.”
“It’s fine,” he says, “I get it. But some cases are unwinnable, Lei. There’s simply no solid evidence of anyone else being there. Suspicion is not enough. And besides, I’m sure Millman would be the first person to throw someone else under the bus if he could. You’ve been given the short straw here, but you can still come out of it with dignity. Just run through the motions and do the best you can with a shit brief.”
Never in my legal career have words tasted so sour. I have not been trained torun through the motions. Being a barrister means fighting fearlessly, going the extra mile, doing the best you can. The responsibility of defending a man accused of murder should always weigh heavily on your shoulders.
I think about how different things would have been for Jack if I had trusted my gut last time instead of trusting what Julian taught me.He is not always right.
“And what about us?”
