Page 79 of Dissection of a Murder
“It’s Leila,” I sob. “I’m so, so sorry to call you on a Friday evening, but if you’re at home, would it be OK if I came over?”
39
Witness X
Rule #9
Don’t Stand Out
Do not standout from the crowd. If you want to get ahead, you need to fit in and be like everyone else. Never underestimate the power of the tribe.
He always told me that people don’t suspect those who blend into the background. That it’s vital you never draw attention to yourself when executing other rules. They must be carried out discreetly.
However, there is an exception.
The only time it’s acceptable to stand out from the crowd is if you do it for the right reasons.
Dad said people don’t like cocky or brash; a big ego will never be liked or trusted. You must have “something” about you that people will gravitate toward. Whether it’s charisma, a unique fashion sense, or enough confidence to say what you think in an eloquent way without offending anyone. Whatever it is, people must admire it and want to possess that quality.
But you can only rely on this to stand out if you are both likable and relatable. She was very good at this, just like Dad was.
Blending into the background was never an option for her. She needed to shine.
And she used me to do it.
It happened so gradually, she thought I didn’t notice. But I notice everything. I’d catch her paying close attention to what I wore, what I said, how I talked, even down to the way I walked. It became her personality.
Ibecame her personality.
She morphed into a different person; her real self fused with a copycat version of me. That’s when I suspected that she had a dark side even I had not yet seen. The thought scared me.
“You’re the only real friend I’ve ever had,” she said to me the evening of our graduation.
“Don’t be silly.” I laughed. “You’ve got millions of friends.”
“No,” she replied in a serious voice. She wanted me to understand. “You get me. No one else does.”
I don’t know if she was telling the truth, or if it was part of the deceit, but I’ve thought about those words a lot over the years. We shared our deepest, darkest secrets, and we promised never to tell anyone.
Likable and relatable; I’m neither of those things.
But Leila Reynolds is.
I’m real and she’s fake. Or is it the other way around? I don’t think I even know anymore.
I know what her colleagues would think if they knew the truth about her, and the mask is starting to slip.
It’s going to be a horror show when it falls off.
40
Leila
62 hours before trial
The last placeI expected to be the Friday night before my first (and probably last) murder trial is Chester’s house. He resides in a small village just outside Durham, the kind of place King’s Counsel live with their young wives who have nothing better to do than tart the house up and post pictures of it.
Many boozy summer evenings have been spent in Chester’s “garden” with the rest of chambers. He holds an annual Easter drinks do and the entire house—a three-hundred-year-old detached cottage set against the backdrop of many acres of land—looks spectacular.
