1

Meeting Jackson Colfred

My name is Dominic Straw, and I'm a defense attorney. I've studied abroad in London for five long years, now I'm 23 and ready to become what I've always wanted to be since I was 15. Just when I was a day from going back to LA it happened. It came as a big surprise, I wasn't expecting to defend anybody until I came back home. My mentor, Lawrence Eastwood, told me about him.

"He's an old friend of mine," he said calmly. "So please try not to let him down"

That wasn't exactly what I was expecting to hear, not at all. All I wanted to say to him was: "If he's a friend of you, then why don't you defend him yourself!" But no, it was my first case and I didn't want to blow it; although I had no idea what happened.

We were standing in the court lobby. I was almost literally sweating bullets. Who was this guy I was supposed to defend, anyway?

"Remember, we can't let this case fall through," warned me Lawrence, always with a smile in his face. It seemed as this was all a game for him. He really looked calmed. How lucky.

"It's ok," I said. "I can handle it, but if only you could tell me a little bit more about this case…"

He laughed. Why? The calmer he was, the more nervous I was. Maybe he doesn't remember how he was in his first case. Also, I think he wasn't realizing in what position was his friend. Did he know that he was in the hands of a newbie? I hope not. Even knowing that he was being accused for murder.

"There's something I need to take care of." He slowly walked away combing his short blonde hair with his right hand. When he was about to step out of the room through the main door (which almost hit with his head, damn he's tall!) he turned back and smiled. I hate when he does that! "Maybe you should introduce yourself to the client. I bet he'll be pleased to meet you"

I didn't have time to answer him; he was already left when I opened my mouth.

My client, Jackson Colfred, was sitting in the bench close to the wall. More than "sitting" he was "dozing", almost sleeping. Should I approach to him? What could I say?

I think he noticed me being close to him, because he snapped out of his daydream and looked at me. Right then I turned my back at him and I started to practice my introduction.

"Hi, my name is Dominic Straw, it is my honor to meet you," I whispered. But no way would I say that to him. He must feel comfortable with me. That's the first rule when it comes to meeting your client.

"Oh, Mr. Straw. I'm so happy to finally meet you"

I turned back almost with a jump. Jackson was standing right next to me. He scared the hell out of me!

"Uh, yeah. Me too." Wait; was there any concern or worry in his face? He looked as calm as Lawrence.

"So, are you ready?" he asked. I looked at him from top to bottom. He was as short as me (thank God, someone with my same height!). He was wearing a blue jacket with big pockets and some old jeans. There wasn't much remarkable about what he was wearing, although he did have a strange necklace holding in his neck. It was golden, heart-shaped. The kind of necklaces which you can open and stick a picture on both sides of the heart, so I guessed it might be him and her girlfriend. He seemed too young to be married. I wondered if he was more than thirty years old. He was looking me straight into my eyes with a confident smile, it seemed as he knew more than just my name somehow. He was wearing a red cap, so I couldn't tell how long his hair was. Though I could say for sure that it wasn't that long, and that it was as black as coal.

"Actually, I was about to ask you the same thing. You don't look worried at all. You do realize you're being accused of murder, right?"

Not a single reaction occurred in his face. He has the concept of that pretty cleared already, it seemed. Why was I looking for expressions in his face, anyway? What is wrong with me today?

"Oh, Mr. Straw. I hope today will be time enough for you to understand everything in this case"

"What do you mean by that?"

He couldn't answer me (though I don't think he was going to) because a guard came into the room to announce that the trial was about to begin. My palms started to sweat, also did my face. I doubt I was going to give a good impression if I flooded the courtroom with my sweat. The courtroom. I started to walk to that room. That room where I had to show everybody what I was able to. That room where the fight for justice takes place. Justice. It all came down to that. Well, not only justice but also truth. Jackson Colfred's truth, that is. What is it that he did? What is it that he didn't do? So many questions and no one to give me an answer. I guess it was all up to me. That sucks.

"I guess it's all up to you Mr. Straw," said Jackson. Was he reading my mind or what? He headed to the courtroom with his hands inside his jacket's pockets. "I wish you the best of luck!"

The best of luck. Yeah, I was going to need more than that. Could you wish for a miracle?

I also headed to the courtroom, but I had to stop when I noticed a little girl of probably 14 years old standing close to the main door. She was staring at me, quite worried. I could see a plea for help in her steamy blue eyes. She was about to cry. Finally, someone who looks worried! Maybe she was supposed to be my client, and not that smiley guy who seemed as happy as a child when he goes to a merry-go-round and gets another go for free.

"The trial is about to begin," shouted a strong voice. Then I heard the sound of the gavel hitting the desk. It was the judge. He looked like sixty-something due to his long white beard and his almost bald (yet also white) hair. "Please everybody take your stands"

"The prosecution is ready, your honor." I heard that from the right side of the room. I had no time to look at him.

I rushed to my stand, where Lawrence was standing with his hands behind him. That is the position to look confident, but I wasn't going to copy that. I had my own position of confidence. I stood next to him still trying to catch my breath.

"Is the defense ready?" asked the judge. He seemed like the kind of guy who likes his job. He didn't look like the kind of judge who is in a bad mood all the time and hits his gavel every time to make people to shut up.

"The defense is fine, I mean ready, your honor," I said trying to chill out.

"I believe this is your first time. Dominic Straw was it?" asked the judge.

"Yes, your honor," I replied as calmly as I could. "And yes, this is my first time as a defense attorney. Any need of checking my badge to prove it?"

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Straw. Thank you." The judge looked at the prosecutor. Then I got to see him clearly. As far as I could tell, he was around his fifties. He had a very tidy, short, lighted black hair. He was dresses very smartly. I should take that into account next time I do this. "Would you mind you mind to give the opening statement of this case, Mr. Johnson?"

So his last name was Johnson. I guess that in a one-on-one fight with our last names his would beat mine in no time. Straw is not the best last name someone would want.

"Yes, your honor," began Johnson. I could already tell he was British because of his accent. It was too perfect, almost forced. "This case is to reveal the truth behind the assassination of Peter Black. Although we don't know much about this person, we do know that he is a foreigner most probably from South America due to the inspection of his belongings. What we know for certain is where this murder took place, and this was in the not-so-popular restaurant called The big shrimp, which opened last…"

"You're a bit late, Dominic," a close voice said. It was Lawrence, again with a huge smile in his face.

"Yes, I'm sorry," I apologized. "It's just that I was talking to my client"

"Oh, so you got to meet Jackson at last. I'm very sorry to see him here like this," said Lawrence pitiful.

"But you don't really think it was him who committed the murder, right?"

"I hope I could think so, though I can't," he said. "If you're wondering why, just wait and you'll see what I'm talking about. You'll probably even change your mind about him as well"

To change my mind about him? That guy, Jackson, seemed as he had no idea why he was here!

"… also, the prosecution accuses Mr. Jackson Colfred of being the one who took the life of the victim. And I have proof enough to prove that." Johnson stopped talking and took a long breath. He was still talking? But, what was that about the proof he had?

"Then please, show it to us," said the judge impatiently.

"As you want, your honor," said Johnson with a cocky smile. Then he took a small transparent plastic bag with a glass bottle inside. Those kind of small plastic bags made it look like a serious piece of evidence; it was just as in the crime scenes where the detectives gather around small thing in those plastic bags. "This, your honor, is the killer weapon!"

What did he say? The killer weapon! That's impossible, or isn't it?

"A simple bottle?" asked the judge stunned. He stole my words. "How can you be so sure about that?"

"Simple enough, your honor," said Johnson very calmly. Dammit! Did he already have all the case under control? "This bottle has two special incriminating facts. The first one is, of course, that this bottle has Mr. Colfred fingerprints all over it. The second fact is that this bottle was not held normally; it was held upside-down."

"What? But why would someone hold a bottle that way? It makes no sense!" said the judge puzzled. How naïve, even a little boy could figure why someone would hold a bottle that way, especially knowing what we're dealing with here.

"Actually it does, your honor," continued to talk Johnson. "If we take both the facts of who held the bottle and how he did it, and match it the autopsy report of the victim Peter Black, the whole crime would make perfect sense and everything would become crystal clear."

"Mr. Eastwood, I don't think this is going the right way," I whispered to Lawrence. I was hoping he could cheer me up, but he did otherwise.

"Yes, it seems so. That is what I was talking about earlier."

"So you mean you already knew about that?" I asked pissed off. How couldn't he have told me? We're in the same side, aren't we?

"There wouldn't be any change if I told you this before, would it?"

He had a point, I'll give him that.

"Then please tell us, Mr. Johnson, what does the autopsy report say?" asked the judge.

Johnson cleared his throat. I was so nervous waiting to hear what the report said that I almost blacked out. The sweat was burning my eyes, plus the room was very hot.

"I'll only say the most remarkable points, your honor. If that's all right with you." Johnson only moved his head slightly up to see the judge, who was moving his head up and down as an acceptance of his request. "Ok then. Victim: Peter Black. Date and time of death: April 16, at around 02:00AM. Death due to an internal head bleeding caused by the blow of an object in his forehead," then he paused. "Of course there's no need to specify what kind of object it's talking about"

Suddenly, everyone was speechless. Johnson, because he knew he had the upper hand. Lawrence, because he was ashamed of his friend. The judge, well, I think he still had no idea of what was going on. And me, because I started to see my client as the one who killed Peter Black.