Black Rainbow (23 page)

My phone rang nonstop, but I just couldn’t believe my ears as I listened to the radio. He was still going through with this?

“Hello?” I finally picked up the phone.

“Put the cereal down. Get out of your sweatpants, and get to the office now, this place is about to become a battlefield and it’s time for you to serve. This is why you wanted to become a lawyer, right? This is your big moment, so don’t be selfish and let your emotions get in the way of helping your dad. That
is
what you want, right?” Atticus yelled into the phone over the ruckus in the background.

“I’m not at your place. I needed to make a stop. I’ll be there by in a few hours—”

“Thea, where in the hell could you be going that’s more important than this?”

“I’m going to visit my father,” I said, hanging up on him just as the police officer and his dog came up to my car window.

I gave him my pass, and he waved me through.

I could feel my heart slamming against my chest as I parked and got out. Over the last couple of months, I had written him over two dozen letters and had never heard anything back. I figured that he didn’t want to see me… and I was too scared to go see him.

I had a vague image of the man that was once my father in my head, and I didn’t want that image of him to be gone as well. Would he still smell like aftershave? Would he still eat purple skittles with me? It was dumb, and I knew I was holding on to false hope, but it was all I had left. I was being selfish though, not seeing him all these years because I didn’t want to lose my happy memories.

“Who are you here to see ma’am?” the guard at the desk asked me.

“Ben Walton. I called.”

“Some ID please?”

Handing him my driver’s license, he scrolled down a white clipboard his shaking his head at me.

“I’ve got a Thea Walton on the list. No Cunning. The names have to match. He should have filled out a new visitors sheet for you, this one hasn’t been updated in years.”

Obviously he never expected me to come either.

“I have an old ID,” I said as I opened my wallet and took out the old college ID; the school had messed up and put my old name on it. I had gotten a new one, but couldn’t bring myself to throw it out. He took it held up to my face and then looked at my license.

“Step over there, we need to search you,” he said, as he handed them back to me.

“Thank you,” I replied, as I walked to where he pointed.

“Do you mind if I check for any foreign objects in your hair and on your person?” a woman asked when I stepped up.

She asked, but I don’t think it was a question.

Nodding, I turned around. She patted a little hard but I didn’t say anything. It felt like a never-ending line of checkpoints before I was finally taken to the visiting room. On TV, I had always seen the glass with the telephones on both sides, but in real life, it looked more like a cage.

The guard signaled for me to sit, and when I did, the door on the opposite side opened. I held my breath as he walked in, his hands, feet and waist chained. He was just as tall as I remembered, with skin as dark as mine, and grey hair. His faced looked hard, like he had taken so many hits to the face that it was almost stone. I noticed the large white bandage wrapped around his neck, and the method of his suicide attempt became apparent. I held my breath, fighting against the surge of emotions that had welled up within me. He sat down, but they didn’t unchain him.

“Who are you?” he asked as soon as he picked up the receiver.

His voice was deep and scratchy and his eyes looked me over emotionlessly.

Wiping a tear from my eye, I tried not to let it bother me. “It’s me, Dad. Thea Bear? Remember?”

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t speak.

“You’ve been getting my letters right? Selene’s too?”

Again silence.

“You haven’t written back so…”

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said to me, as he hung up the phone.

I slammed my hand against the glass, causing the guards to come forward from their place at the doors.

“Sorry,” I said to them quickly, and turned back to him. I motioned for him to pick up the phone again.

He cracked his jaw, as he once more picked up the receiver. “What do you want?”

“I came to see you, it took me two hours to get here—”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Well, you should have!” I snapped at him. “You should have asked us to come. You should have written us back. And you sure as hell shouldn’t have done that to yourself. We are family—”

“We are
not
family. You do not know me.”

“I know you didn’t do it, and I know you are my father. I don’t need to know anything else. I don’t care about anything else. You’re getting out of here.”

He shook his head. “How much is this new lawyer costing you? I met him. He looked like something I can’t afford. You’re all wasting your time and money… I’m tellin’ you they do not care. I’ve acce—”

“If you say ‘accepted’, I swear to God, I’ll lose it. This isn’t something you accept, and don’t you dare say that to anyone here. Levi is different. This is different. If the money bothers you, then the moment you get out, we’ll sue the state and then you can pay it all back. But right now I need you to tell me you didn’t do it.”

He leaned in. “So you don’t believe me after all.”

“I do believe you. I just need to know if there’s any more fight in you. I’m here, I will walk the line, but I need to know that you’re walking it with me, Dad.”

He put his hand up against the glass as he looked at me. “I was prepared to die knowing in my soul that I didn’t do anything wrong. That I would leave this world an innocent man. The appeals that failed didn’t matter no more. Then you and you sister had to go and complicate everything with your letters. It was easier when you didn’t speak to me.”

“Just because something is easier, doesn’t mean it’s better. Now is there anything you can tell me that can help us? Please, Dad, I need you to just try.”

“Get out!” she screamed, as tears ran down her face, “I have no idea what possessed you to do this, but until it’s over, stay away from me.”

“Mom, I know you’re angry, but if this man—”

“If? If? You are putting this entire family, not to mention the Van Allen family, through this all over again, and you have the nerve to say ‘if’?”

“Fine. He didn’t do this, and he does not deserve to be behind bars. The person who killed Savannah does, but not him. How do you not see that? Especially with the way his case was handled!” I yelled back at her.

“Get him out of here,” she yelled at my father. “Get him out or I will say something a mother shouldn’t. Get him away from me.”

“Don’t bother, I’ll see myself out. Whether you like it or not, I am going through with this case,” I called out to her, but she wouldn’t look at me.

She held her hands to her face and cried, and in that moment, I hated myself for putting her though this again.

Halfway out the door, my father called to me, “Levi, what are you doing?”

“Getting a man, my client, out of prison,” I answered him.

“You’ve worked so hard all your life. I have seen you build up a career for yourself, and now you’re about to blow it all up? No one will touch you after this. I just don’t understand.”

“An innocent man is in jail… if you don’t understand that, I really don’t have time to explain it to you,” I said, already walking to my car.

It had begun; the non-stop phone calls, the press gathering outside, the associates running around with their hair on fire. I needed something to tell them. I had gone over Ben Walton’s case at least four times now, and I had never seen such stupidity in all my life. Evidence wasn’t bagged, the scene wasn’t closed off, and one of the witnesses went missing after her statement, and did not testify… it was just one big clusterfuck.

“Are you ready to give your speech?” Tristan asked, as he came into the conference room.

“Why do I need to give a speech? They’re lawyers, and we are going to practice law, it’s that simple,” I said, even though I had just thought giving a speech.

“So, you have no idea?”

“Not even a little.”

“You need a minute?”

“No, bring them in.”

This was going to be a long night.

I didn’t have to wait long; it seemed like they were all waiting for me to call them in. My associates sat around the dark oak table, while the students gathered near the back.

“Ben Walton, our new client,” I said, as I glanced over them.

I placed a picture of Ben Walton and wrote his name on the large window that overlooked all of Boston. Then, I began my ‘speech’.

“I was freshman in college when he was convicted. Which means most of you were in still in your preteens, but I’m sure if you’ve lived in the city, you know about the uproar that the death of Savannah Van Allen caused. As the story goes, Ben Walton kidnapped, raped and stabbed Mrs. Van Allen a total of fourteen times. She was later found in a motel room in Connecticut.”

“Witnesses had placed Ben Walton outside of her home the day before, and his DNA was found at the scene of the crime. The case was spun to make Ben Walton seem like an infatuated stalker who preyed on Mrs. Van Allen.”

“Makes sense,” Raymond spoke up, as he loosened his tie, “but why was he there? Why was his DNA in the motel room?”

“Because they were having an affair,” a voice called out from outside the office.

I would have recognized that voice anywhere.

As she walked into room, it felt like she was a whole foot taller. She took of her jacket and gloves, and dropped them onto the chair. She grabbed a folder off the table before making her way over to where I was.

“Is there any proof of that?” Vivian asked, as she rose her hand in the back.

“Yes. Me,” she said. Then looking to me, “It’s your case, but can I brief them?”

Could I deny her anything at this point?

Nodding, I handed her the marker and took a seat at the head of the table near Tristan.

“Ben Walton is my father,” she said, causing them to whisper, as she drew a timeline connecting to the photo on the window. “Unknown to many people, Ben Walton was once known as the fiction writer, Law Bonnet. He and my mother, Margaret Cunning, never formerly married—”

“Law Bonnet? The writer for the weekly Boston Noble Magazine, how is that possible?” Atticus cut in.

This was the first time that either of us had heard that bit of information.

“To avoid a scandal, the Boston Noble employed a ghost writer to take his place,” she said, marking that date further down the timeline before walking back to the beginning.

“Each year the Boston Noble holds a large gala featuring anyone who had been on the cover. That year, Savannah Van Allen was not only on the cover twice, but she attended the gala. That was beginning of their six month affair.”

She marked the date on the timeline and turned to look for Savannah’s picture on the table. Finding it, I slid it over to her and she tacked it unto the timeline, “However this was never brought up or mentioned by either the prosecution or Ben Walton’s own defense.”

“Mistake on the line of the defense,” I stated out loud, and the students in the back wrote it down quickly.

“On the weekend of Savannah Van Allen’s murder, my father took me to the Woodstock Festival… most likely as cover for his affair.”

“You were what, probably six or seven at the time? No offence, but that’s a little young for you to be considered a credible witness or to provide him with a reliable alibi. Do you even remember that day? The prosecution will destroy you, and say that you either blacked out the memory of the murder, or that you were not aware when it was happening,” Vivian pointed out, much to her credit.

It was valid point. Children were horrible witnesses.

“You’re right,” she said, without even flinching. “For the most part, that day is a blur to me. I remember going to the fair, and I remember seeing the lights on the bridge as we were going back home. However, I wasn’t the only person there, so was Savannah Van Allen’s daughter.”

What?
I sat up suddenly.

Taking a photo out of the folder she’d been carrying, she taped it up on to the window. Sure enough, there was my ex-wife, eleven, maybe twelve years old, posing for a picture with her mother at the fair.

“Where did you get this?” I whispered. “
How
did you get this?”

“It wasn’t the most legal of means, but when I went to see my father, he told me that Savannah had brought her daughter for the same reason he did, as an alibi and a cover up for their affair. I no longer have the pictures of that day, but I figured she had to have kept something.”

“So you hacked her computer?” Tristan asked her.

He sounded relieved that he could finally see how this case could come together.

“
I
didn’t do anything, but like I said, not the most legal means,” she replied, pointing to it. “The prosecution’s whole case was built on the fact that my—that Ben Walton, was some kind of love-sick stalker. They painted a picture of a woman who was scared and was being held captive by a monster. But does she look that way to you? No one ever spoke to Odile Van Allen. People wanted someone to be convicted, and Ben Walton was the easiest choice.”

Tristan leaned in behind me and whispered, “She sounds like she’s pleading her case now.”

“She is.”

Everything she’d done and put herself through was for this.

“Why didn’t your mother take this case then?” Raymond asked, “Or at the very least, she could have gotten someone to help with it if she didn’t want her name to it.”

I looked to her, waiting. If she wanted to do this she was going to have to pull out every damn skeleton out of her closet.

“Because she was spiteful. When I spoke to Ben Walton, he says she had the evidence to prove that he was innocent, but when she realized it wasn’t just an affair, that he’d planned to leave her for Savannah, she became jilted and destroyed the evidence.”

“But she told you?” Atticus added pushing her.

“She told me that she wanted him to spend the rest of his life in jail,” Thea said dryly. “She passed off the case to a public defendant she knew, and that was the last contact she ever had with him.”

She turned to me, and I nodded as I stood up. “As most of you know, keeping a man out of prison is relatively easy.
Getting
a man out is a whole other ball game. And on top of that, this is a death row case. Prepare yourselves to be hit with every roadblock humanly possible. There is no way we can simply exonerate him, but that isn’t what we’re going after right now. What we need right now, is to get a retrial, and the only way to win this case is through social media and public pressure. We are throwing all of the case information out there.”

“But won’t that just make it easy for the prosecution to combat everything?” Thea asked me.

“It’s the only way,” Tristan answered. “If we try going legal route, we will be stuck for months, if not years, behind the legal tape.”

Years
sounded about right… they would out spend us, and bury us under a mountain of paperwork and technicalities.

“Besides, all the pieces of this are starting to come together… there is more proof out there, we just need to find it. But for now, we will make so much noise that they will have to take notice. You all are in a social media generation, it’s your job start blogs, give interviews, tweet to every last celebrity who is against the death penalty, make the people take notice. We might even be granted a miracle and someone who still has photos of that fair may come forward with something we can use. We will be working out of the office, but also be prepared to go to Connecticut when the time comes—”

“Mr. Black,” Betty interrupted me with panic in her voice, “your ex-wife, she’s here.”

“Weren’t you married to Odile Van Allen?” Raymond asked with a frown.

A series of gasps echoed through the room.

“I’ll be right there,” I told Betty ignoring him. “Get to work people.”

“Godspeed,” Tristan said on my way out.

Yeah, I was going to need the grace of God to make it away from her clutches in one piece. My mother had nothing on the rage that she was going to throw at me. This morning I truly felt bad… I knew how much this tore her apart. We were younger, but she knew. She knew her mother was having an affair and she had said nothing.

No, she had to have said something, and no one listened.

Walking into my office she, with her long dark hair and hazel eyes, turned to me shaking.

“You fucking bastard!” she screamed, charging at me. “Do you hate me this much? I cheated on you, so now you are going to hurt me like this?! This is low, so low, it’s disgusting, even for you! Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this?!”

Grabbing her fists, I held her steady. “He didn’t do it. But you know that don’t you? You were there. They were together. You know that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You—I don’t even know who you are now!” she yelled, ripping herself away from me.

“That weekend your mother took you to the Woodstock fair—”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this! I’m sorry I hurt you. I was way too young to get married—”

“Odile! Listen to me! You were at the Woodstock fair that weekend because your mother—”

“Don’t you dare speak about her! You have no right to speak about her! You knew her. She was a good person, she did not deserve to be murdered by that monster!”

“You were there,” I said softly, trying to get through to her.

“I was at home with my older brother that weekend. We ate cherry flavored ice cream but it was horrible so I gave it to—”

“To me,” Thea came in, her eyes wide as she stared at her.

She looked dazed, like she was half here, half in her mind.

“That day at the fair, I met you in front of the Ferris wheel. My dad was in line with your mom for ice cream. You didn't like yours, so you gave it to me. But I couldn’t hold both mine and yours and I dropped it all over your stockings and shoes. I remember…”

“You’re insane! I don’t know you. I’ve never met you in my life. I would have remem—” She broke off suddenly and looked to me, “Is this why you’re doing this? For her?” She snorted, “You’ve always liked your girls young, pretty, and broken. It makes you feel all manly inside when you save us.” She turned to face Thea. “Be warned sweetheart, the moment you fix yourself, he will distance himself from you.”

“
That
is the reason why we broke up, and the reason I’m on this case is because there is an innocent man on death row!”

“There are innocent men in prison, welcome to America, Levi! Why him! Why now? Save your self-righteous bullshit for someone else!”

“It is because of me,” Thea said, “but that doesn’t change the fact that my father did not kill your mother,” Thea said, as she kept her head up.

“According to the law, he did, and I will make sure that he stays behind bars where he belongs. He’s done enough to my family. You want a war Levi? I will bring it to you. Maybe you forgot who the Van Allen family are, but we will remind you.” she spat as she pushed past me.

“You can’t keep running from the truth Odile. You can’t keep lying to yourself! Please.” Thea shouted after her.

“Come near me again, and I will sue you for slander and anything else that I can think of. You’re all insane!” Odile replied, walking away until she disappeared behind the wall.

When my eyes fell back on Thea, she was holding out an envelope to me.

“What’s this—?”

“I can’t expect you to do this for free.”

She had to be kidding me with this. “I’m not accepting that.”

“I knew you were going to say that, which is why I deposited the payment into the company account this afternoon. This is the receipt.”

“Thea—”

“I need to get back to work,” she said as she turned and walked out.

God damn it!