Authors: J.J. McAvoy
“This is just another example of the way blacks are treated in America today. How many Ben Walton’s are there all over the country? How many trials have been completely butchered by the public defenders who just don’t give a damn?!”
“Completely untrue; public defenders are overworked and underpaid, yes, this was by all means handled horribly by the state police and the media. The evidence should have been handled properly, and no information should have been leaked to media. But to say this is a race issue is wrong. People of all races and ethnicities are all locked up everyday—”
“Preach!” Atticus said, as he lifted his hand up to the sky, drawing my attention away from the debate that was going on most news stations now.
One week, that was all it took for this to become a firestorm issue. No matter what channel I flipped to, there was at least one segment on the Ben Walton case. Levi had an interview with KWNN coming up in the next few minutes, and it was going to be broadcasted globally.
“What? You think just because I’m a democrat my views on this would magically change?” he asked, when I sat back down at the conference table. “I
don’t
think this is a race based case. I think anyone who had been involved in an affair with her would have suffered the same punishment.”
He prepared himself for my comeback, but instead, I nodded my head, “I agree.”
“You what?”
“I agree. All the evidence we have points to this being a series of disastrous events.”
“The public defender is an alcoholic!” Vivian ran in waving a paper above her head. Tristan came up behind her, and took the paper out of her hands.
“How did you get this?”
“There wasn’t much information about the public defender, so I thought I would go down to his office and see if he still worked there. He didn’t. He was “let go” six months after the case. Since he wasn’t officially fired, there was no write up. However, when he went looking for a new job, his former boss wrote a letter detailing his drunk stupors saying, ‘
that man
should not be allowed to practice law.’ ”
“Where is he is now?”
“He died five years ago due to an alcohol-related liver disease.”
“How sad. But dead men refute evidence. They just gave you this letter?”
“The new boss apparently is sympathetic to this case. She only asks we do not make too many connections between their office and him.”
“Keep this up, and we might have to save a spot for you when you graduate,” Tristan said as he glanced up at us. “Do you two have anything useful to add, or are you going to keep braiding each other’s hair?”
Luckily, we didn’t have to answer that question. Levi came on the screen, and I hated the fact that his tie was slightly crooked, and I wanted to be the one to fix it. Its off-green color made his emerald green eyes stand out even more.
I want to touch him again.
Even with everything that was going on, and the fact that my life had changed overnight even more so than I ever would have thought possible, I still longed to touch him.
“
Thank you for taking the time to speak to us Mr. Black.”
“No, thank you for bring up this case. For so long we’ve only heard one side to it.”
“So. Do you truly believe that Ben Walton is innocent?”
“I do.”
“But you were married to Odile Van Allen, were you not? Why would you even consider taking on this case?”
“I was, and my marriage to Odile Van Allen has no bearing on this case. I understand that it must hurt her, but that was never my intention. People have been asking me why would I take this case and it confuses me. There is an innocent man on death row. I know that. I can prove that. I’m not demanding that the state release him, all I’m asking is that they revisit his case.
“The law states that the motion for a new trial can be sought if the correction of an injustice is needed, and when I look at Ben Walton’s case, all I see is injustice. Whether or not that injustice has been inflicted upon him because he’s black, I don’t know, and I don’t care… the fact remains; a grave injustice has been done and he is entitled to a legal defiance against the man who sat next to him; he was an alcoholic who was fired six months after Mr. Walton had been convicted. We have in our possession, a letter from his former employer, which states that he shouldn’t have been allowed to practice law. To me, this is a perfect explanation as to why he couldn’t challenge one single witness.”
How did he know that? We’d only just found that information out ourselves!
“Text messages are great, aren’t they?” Tristan kicked his feet up. “He’s in full fighting form right now.”
“If the state truly believes that he is guilty, then granting a new trial should not be a problem. We have tipped our hand. All of our cards on the table. With these types of mistakes, mistakes not even my students would have made, a man’s life is on the line, so I ask you here today, how can you turn your eyes from such an injustice? Ben Walton had a life, two beautiful daughters, an amazing career as the chief writer and editor at the Boston Noble, under the pseudonym Law Bonnet—”
“Law Bonnet was Ben Walton?”
The reporter said in shock.
Law Bonnet was the master of breaking news. He wrote about everything and one from presidents to politicians and called them out, to exposing headline stories. If you wanted to know what people were going to say on the news on Monday, you had to read Law Bonnet on Friday.
“Yes, and the moment Ben Walton was arrested, the Boston Noble hid all ties that connected them to him, and gave the name he had created for himself to a ghost writer. If this had been brought up in court, the Jury would have known that Savannah Van Allen was given not one, but two feature articles that year. The first one was offered to her, and the second one she personally requested. She knew him. She was involved with him. The more you pull on the string, the more evidence there is that falls out of the closet.”
“I can’t wait to read the Boston Noble in the morning,” Atticus snickered to himself.
“They, and Levi Black, are already trending on Twitter,” Vivian said as she scrolled through her phone. Looking around, I hadn’t noticed how many people had come back into the room just to watch Levi on the screen.
There are people who are moved by the world, and then there were people who moved the world. Levi Black was the latter of the two. He just had that ability. He commanded respect, and people who listened to him would follow him anywhere… myself included.
Tristan stood, rereading whatever was on his phone before speaking. “I hope you all took notes, what he just did was force Boston Noble to respond, and by doing so they make this case larger. Pack up and go home, we’re done.”
“What? How are we done?”
“Let me rephrase. Pack up, go home, kiss your partners, and get as much sleep as you possibly can. We’ve been granted a hearing and we will most likely get a retrial, and then, this stops being easy,” he said as he walked out, leaving me speechless as I fell back into my seat.
This was only the first part of it, and already it had taken so much out of me. I needed to be stronger.
Grabbing my guitar, I laid on my office couch mindlessly strumming the tightly wound strings. The day seemed to have passed by in a blur of camera lights, interviews and meetings.
“God, no,” I groaned at my phone.
“Tough day?”
“Shut up.”
Tristan placed a glass of water in front of me like that was supposed to do something for me tonight.
“Water? Seriously?”
“You have an even bigger day tomorrow,” he said as he stretched and then collapsed onto my chair. “If you start drinking now, you may never stop.”
He was a pain in the ass, but he knew me. “Look in the front pocket of my bag.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.” I kept on playing.
Reaching in, he pulled the small black card out. He stared at it for a while and dropped it on the table.
“Black, Knox and Associates? I’m finally getting my name on the door… a door that might not even be there when we finish this case.”
“Have more confidence. Besides, it’s the thought that counts.”
“You swore never to be partners with anyone again… the last guy you were partners with slept with your wife.”
“Thank you for the reminder, asshole. Luckily, you are married and in love with my
sister
. I trust you. You’re a good lawyer, and you’ve always stood behind me even when I was standing on bullshit. I should have done this a long time ago.”
He sighed, leaning back into his chair, “We better win this or I’m going to be pissed off as hell. Not to mention having to deal with you, if Thea never speaks to you again.”
“I’m not doing this for her.” I wasn’t even sure if that was a lie anymore. Maybe I had spent so much time convincing others of my reasons that I was starting to convince myself. “This has become so much bigger than just her and I—”
“So what you’re saying is, you won’t go see her in the conference room?”
“What?” I sat up, and he grinned.
I pretended that I didn’t care anymore and lay back down. I glanced at my watch.
1:00am
“Someone should tell her she doesn’t get extra credit for being here at this ungodly hour,” I said.
“I’m not her teacher,” Tristan cracked.
“Odile told me that I purposely look for women who are broken and too young for me,” I told him.
And when I thought about it she was right. So what did that say about the type of man I was?
“Bullshit.”
“She has a point—”
“Sure, if you look at it from the dark and cloudy prescriptive of your psychotic ex-wife, but over here on our side of the rainbow, I can see just fine.”
What the hell?
“I think you are trying to tell me something, but you’re not speaking English.”
He rolled his eyes, and leaned towards me, sitting on the very edge of his seat as though he was about to reveal a secret. “For as long as I’ve known you Levi, you’ve been attracted to strength. Whether it was cars, homes, cases, women… You don’t look for broken people. Everyone is broken to some degree, we all got our own shit to deal with. The difference is how we handle them.
“You liked Odile because even after the death of her mother she stood with her head held high. She spent time volunteering, giving back to the community, studying. The same thing applies to Thea. With a mother like hers, there’s no doubt in my mind that she’s had one hell of a childhood. She then had to raise her sister. She’s worked her ass off in one of the best schools into the country, and upon finding out her father was wrongly accused she didn’t break down. She didn’t give up. She instead said she wanted to be a lawyer. She is by far one of the strongest people I know, and there’s no shame in being attracted to that. Why you’ve started to listen to the words of your ex-wife now, is beyond me.”
“Tristan the wise…” I didn’t know what else to say.
“You do know we are going to have to get Odile to testify. She knows something… she has too.”
“The question is why isn’t she telling us the truth?”
I’d thought about that over a thousand times, and I still didn’t have a definitive idea. All I could think of were the worst-case scenarios.
“She could have been angry at her mother for breaking up their family,” I said, throwing out the idea.
“She was what, eleven, or twelve? I can understand why she would have been angry, but now, as an adult, to allow a man to stay in prison, when she knows otherwise? She can’t possibly have hated her that much.”
“Alright, then she blocked it out. Didn’t want to remember what had really happened, so she took what was in front of her, placed it in a box and locked it away. She doesn’t want to go back to that, so she’s pretending?”
He nodded, “Okay. Let’s say it’s that. She is not the first child to find out that one of her parents is having an affair. Again, Odile is emotionally mature enough to at least know that by now. I can see her telling her father off, or not speaking to her father, but for her to have blocked it all out like that? Things like that tend to happen only when severe trauma is involved…”
I paused, and so did he; our eyes met as we both arrived to the same obvious conclusion.
“The type of trauma that comes from seeing your mother murdered?” I finished for him.
“She saw what happened, but she wasn’t killed either? If I was going to kill a socialite, and I knew that her daughter was nearby, I would either kill her child too, or use her for ransom,” he stated.
“She knew the killer!” we both said at the same time.
“Or,” Tristan paused looking me in the eye.
“Or?” I didn’t follow his thoughts.
“Here me out, but what if she did it,” he said slowly.
I had to let that sink in, but it just didn’t compute for me. “Tristan, she was preteen.”
“Exactly! Her mother was using her as a shield to have an affair. That must have set her off. We’ve seen kids much younger than her do the same thing, it is not that far-fetched. Her mother had cash on her that weekend. She could have changed her clothes, called a taxi, and headed home.”
“Tristan she would have to be a sociopath.”
He looked at me, not saying anything else.
“Either way,” I paused, sickened by the thought of it, “you’re going to have to talk to her. She won’t listen to a word that comes out of my mouth.”
Right now she hated me more than anyone else in the world…
“All of this is useless until we’re granted a retrial. I’m going to head home and actually see my wife,” he rose up and looked back at me, “When you see Thea, please don’t do
it
in the conference room, we still have to work in there.”
“I’m not going to see her.”
“Sure, and a starving man won’t eat if a banquet is laid out before him. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
He left.
1:15am.
She needs space.
1:32am.
Plus, everything is complicated. I’m her father’s lawyer now. But then again, when aren’t we complicated?