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“I know. Fuck, Dad, you’re the best there is. I don’t even have a hope of measuring up. Believe me, my expectations aren’t that high.”
He gave me a small smile. “There’s nothing for you to measure up to—you’re your own person. And I want you to know that whatever happens, no matter how many cases you win or lose, I’m proud of you. I’m proud that you’re my son. Even if you decide that this career isn’t for you, I’ll still be proud of you. Whatever happens.”
Fuck, I was getting a bit choked up. I blinked, lowering my head and clearing my throat. “I, uh, I appreciate it. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” He laughed softly. “My win record wasn’t so impressive when I first started out.”
“Yeah, well, it is now. Your winning streak’s unparalleled.”
“That Myers case…I was sure I was going to win it.” His gaze turned distant. “If I had, then I’d have made history by now.”
“What happened?” We’d never really spoken about it in detail, but I figured enough time had passed that he wouldn’t mind discussing it with me.
He sighed. “My client was on trial for murder. He’d specifically asked for me to represent him because he’d heard I was the best of the best. As you know, my fees are on the higher end. He sold everything to pay them—practically drove himself to bankruptcy. The evidence…some of it was circumstantial at best, and I really thought we had a chance of getting his charges reduced to manslaughter. I was never really sure if he did it… I’ve worked with criminals for many years, and there was something about him… It always felt like he was hiding something, though. Whatever it was, he’s taken his secrets with him.”
“What actually happened? With the murder?”
My dad raised his brows. “You want all the gory details?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna have to deal with it in the future anyway, aren’t I? Might as well make a start.”
“Alright. Let me see what I can remember of the details. I’m not digging out the paperwork now—we’ve got too much to do here with this Stratford case—but if you’re still interested later, then I can get something together for you.”
“Thanks.” Picking up my highlighter at his pointed look, I carried on scanning the pages for the number.
“The murder victim was found in an alleyway just after midnight by a dog walker who called the police. Let me think…” He grabbed a Post-it and began drawing on it with quick, slashing movements. When he was done, he placed it down next to my papers. “This is the alleyway. One end begins on a residential road, where my client lived, and the other end opens onto a larger road with a library on one side and a house on the other. There was CCTV here—” He tapped the paper. “—which was part of the library’s camera system. The victim was found halfway down the alleyway, where I’ve marked an X. CCTV caught Jason Myers exiting the alleyway sometime after eleven thirty, if I remember correctly, and upon analysing the footage, it was determined that there was a high probability that a stain on the jacket he was wearing was blood.”
“How could they tell? It could have been anything.” I frowned as I highlighted another line.
“Exactly. Circumstantial. However, that wasn’t the only piece of evidence against him. Forensics determined that trace amounts of his DNA were on the victim’s clothes, and later, when the murder weapon was recovered from the scene, it contained a larger percentage, although the analyst testified that the weapon also contained seven other DNA profiles, including that of a dog. Mr. Myers lived nearby, and he often took a shortcut through that alleyway, including earlier that day, as confirmed by the same CCTV camera, so he could have touched the brick at any time.”
“The murder weapon was a brick? How did they die?”
He shook his head at the enthusiasm in my voice. “You really want all the gory details, hmm? Yes, it was determined that the brick had come from the wall that ran down one side of the alleyway—there were several that were loose, and the wall was crumbling in places. The victim sustained several blows to the head. Heavy blows—the skull was severely fractured in multiple places, causing an intense brain bleed, and they ultimately died from a haemorrhagic stroke. It was an attack with intent to cause severe harm or even death.”
“But why? Why would he do that?”
“That is a very good question without a very good answer.” Leaning forwards, he reached for his mug, grimacing as he tasted it. “Cold coffee.”
“I’ll get you another. I need one anyway.” Climbing to my feet, I stretched. “Fucking hell, sitting in that chair isn’t good for the bruises I got during the game. I’m gonna need another ice bath later.”
“Maybe you should ask Elena to rub some cream into your bruises,” he suggested with a smirk.
“Dad. You can’t say things like that to your son.” Swiping his mug from the desk, I escaped the room before he could say anything else.
When I returned with two fresh mugs of coffee, I continued where we’d left off discussing the Myers case. “Did he ever admit to it?”
“Initially, no, only after I’d spoken in depth to the detective on the case and I met with him to go through his options. I explained how they would be investigating his family, conducting searches, and so forth—all the disruptive practices that have to be carried out as part of these things. He just…crumpled, for want of a better word, and admitted that he’d done it. Said it had been an accident, and he hadn’t meant for it to happen. I asked why he hadn’t called the police when he was at the scene, and he said he was too panicked, and he’d fled the scene as soon as he realised the victim was deceased.”
I blew on my coffee to cool it before taking a sip. “But you don’t believe that?”
“No. I don’t. It was clear to me that he was lying. I tried to convince him that it would be better for him to tell me the truth, but he never did. Later, a tiny fragment of his jacket was discovered in the ashes of a bonfire at the bottom of his garden, and forensics managed to extract trace DNA that matched the victim. That linked him to the crime scene, but I don’t know…it made no sense. He had no history of violence and no connection to the victim.”
“Well, that’s just shit.”
He picked up his mug and gulped down a mouthful. “You could say that. I thought we had a case for charging him with manslaughter, but unfortunately, the jury didn’t agree. And that was that. I probably shouldn’t have taken the case on to begin with, but he was so desperate, and I thought it would be a good challenge for me. Too good, as it turned out.”
“You can’t win them all.” I picked up the next sheet of paper and began scanning it for the phone number. “But I don’t think you have anything to worry about here.”
