Chapter Fourteen The Trial, Part One: Have I Been Guilty All This Time?

"All rise for the honorable Judge Emily Saber!"

The courtroom stood as one at the bailiffs words. All eyes were on the door to the judge's chambers, and the eyes soon followed a tall woman with a lined face as she made her way tot eh center of the room where everyone could see her. She picked up her gavel and banged it twice, and everyone knew that was the notion to sit down.

Greg stared along the heads of the crowd as he sat back down. It was eerie that they all did the same thing at the same time. But soon, all of these eyes would be staring as one at him as he told over his story. His face felt flushed and this stupid tie was choking him. Sara sat next to him, looking her absolute best. Hers were two of the eyes eagerly anticipating the start of the trial. She squeezed his hand, and his face went even redder. He knew it wasn't a sign of affection: more one of anxiety.

"Not much longer now, Greg," she whispered, watching Judge Saber along with the rest of them. "Soon we'll see to it that bastard gets what he wants."

He closed his eyes, preferring not to think about it until the time came. But no time seemed to be passing. Nothing was happening - the room was still and silent. The reason for this soon became apparent. Judge Saber looked up at the defense side.

"Mr. Castor, where is your client?" she asked.

The heads of the crowd turned to see what she meant. The defense table had four chairs but only three occupants. Greg strained to see who was missing and noticed that it was Roger's brown head that was not there. The lawyer, Castor, shrugged.

"I...I don't know, Your Honor," he answered. "He should be here any time soon. Perhaps...something happened to him?"

There was muttering throughout the crowd. The noise did not fare well with Judge Saber. She banged her gavel again, and everyone fell silent. "Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Castor," she said. "I am certain he is fine. But I suggest you go and find him."

No sooner had the lawyer reached the door to the hall when it burst open, revealing two figures in the doorway. It was Roger, clad in the orange standard uniform, accompanied by Tom the cop. One look at his face made it seem as though Castor's words weren't far from the truth. Although he stood tall, around Roger's left eye was a livid purple bruise. Tom stood meekly by and tried to dab Roger's nose with a c rumpled white cloth. Roger shrugged him off with difficulty, as it seemed to cause him pain to move his shoulder. He walked into the room like he was visiting a girlfriend's house. As Tom followed him, Greg looked over and saw that the cloth clutched in his hand was a bloody tissue. He looked back at Roger, who was definitely showing signs of a recent nosebleed.

"Sorry that we're late, Judge Saber," said Tom, throwing his hand's contents into the trash. "I was tending to him. It took at least 20 Band-Aids to do-up just the wounds on his back. Judge, I'm not one to interfere, but perhaps this trial can be postponed until Mr. Mason has received proper medical -"

"I'm fine," said Roger softly, and he sat down next to his court-appointed lawyer.

"If you insist, Mr. Mason," said Judge Saber. She cleared her throat and began. "The case of The City of Las Vegas verses David and Roger Mason has begun. Defense attorneys Geoffrey Castor and Harry Nadar. Prosecutor Adam Kampbell..."

Greg was only half-listening. How could the judge possibly continue the case with one of the defendants in such horrid condition? He was sure that these wounds and the hair-raising scream a week back were connected. David was abusing Roger even in the cells. Why hadn't the guards done anything to prevent this? He stared back at that black eye and felt his own eyes watering in sympathy. So distracted was he that he didn't hear his name being called.

"We call to the stand the first witness and victim, Mr. Gregory Sanders," called one of the lawyers.

Sara poked Greg's shoulder. He turned, and she pointed to the stand. Then, she noticed his tears. "Don't worry," she whispered. "Just relax. And go get that disgrace to the name of CSI."

He took a deep breath and walked down to the stand. He felt the eyes upon him as he faced the crowd. And officer walked over to him, holding a bible. Following procedure, Greg placed one hand on the bible and one hand in the air.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" asked the officer, also following procedure.

"Yes," said Greg dully. The officer walked away, and Greg sat down. Then, Castor approached him. It wasn't regular to start off with the defense, but then again it wasn't a regular case. With a living victim - two living victims - he supposed Roger's lawyer was not trying to prove Roger's innocence, but David's guilt.

"State your name," he said.

Greg leaned forward and spoke slowly into the mike. "Gregory Sanders."

"Spell your name, for the record."

Greg did as Castor instructed.

"Now, I understand you saw you were kidnaped by my client."

Greg raised an eyebrow. "I don't just say so. That's what happened."

"Oh, really?" There was a glint in his eye that said Castor had a plan. "Tell us what happened, please, Gregory"

"I was nearly alone in the crime lab," said Greg. "Everyone else was out on cases and I was assigned Lab duty. And a man, this man –" He pointed. "-- Roger Mason, he came up to my desk. And he asked if I knew where Sara Sidle was. I said that she wasn't available. Then, he asked for Catherine Willows. I said she wasn't available either. Then he -"

"Mr. Sanders, is this really necessary?" asked Judge Saber.

"S-sorry," said Greg, getting nervous. "So I told him that I was the only CSI available."

"But...are you in fact, a CSI?" asked Castor, folding his arms.

"No, I am not. I'm - I'm a trainee. But I told him that," he added quickly. "And he told me that he could get me a job as a CSI in Carson City. So - so I went with him."

"You just got up and left?" said Castor. "Just went along with a complete stranger?"

Greg blushed. It was an embarrassing subject. "Yes. That's correct. I know. It was a stupid thing to do."

"I agree," smiled Castor. "Continue."

"Well, after a while I realized we weren't going where he said we were. And I told him to bring me home, but he didn't listen. And then, I saw another car, and we pulled over. He got out of the car, and told me to stay."

"Mr. Sanders, did you realize then you had the perfect opportunity to escape?"

Greg blinked. He figured out Castor's plan: to make him look incredibly stupid so that the jury did not believe a lot of his testimony. Was he going to do the same thing with Sara? "I did realize this," he answered. "But I didn't think I could make it very far if I just ran on foot. So...I tried to hot-wire the car."

"But isn't that stealing?" said Castor in mock confusion.

"In a situation where one feels one's life is threatened, normally unacceptable behavior is deemed acceptable," quoted Greg, remembering something he read in an old textbook.

"You felt your life was threatened?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Greg blinked again. "What do you mean 'why?'"

"I mean, why did you feel your life was threatened? Did you see that my client was armed? Did he make a threat on your life? Why?"

Greg put a hand to his face and thought for a second. "No...not that I can recall exactly..." He frowned. Was he going to be charged with stealing a car now, or something?

"So you just felt threatened, so you decided to steal his car?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" called the prosecutor, Kampbell. "We are not trying the witness, and it's obvious that in those circumstances, he felt it necessary to-"

"I'm going to have to ask you to withdraw that statement, Mr. Castor."

"Of course, Your Honor," Castor said apologetically. "Go on with your story, Mr. Sanders."

Greg nodded. "Well, I couldn't do it fast enough. Soon, Roger came back and pulled me out of the car and threatened to kill me if I tried to escape. He then gave me over to David Mason–" Greg pointed "–who gave me back to Roger. And then they began arguing."

"Arguing? Over what?"

"Over - over me," said Greg sheepishly. "David Mason said I was just a kid, while Roger kept insisting I was fit for anything he needed a CSI for."

"And what did he need you for?"

"He- he planned to kill me."

Castor raised an eyebrow. "Really? When did you learn this?"

"Well, I thought I was going to die anyway...so I asked Mr. Mason - Roger - what he was planning to do with me."

"And he said 'kill you'?"

"No, sir," Greg shook his head. "Roger told me that he was offered, from what I believe, a large sum of money by his brother, David Mason, to drive a CSI from the Las Vegas Crime Lab to a certain part of the highway. It was David Mason who explained his intentions."

"But did you ask David Mason his plans?"

"No, I did not."

"So...he just told you, out of the blue, that he was planning to kill you?"

"No, Roger asked him."

"He did, did he?" Castor smiled. "So Roger didn't know these plans."

"It was apparent that he didn't."

"So he had no idea that his brother was planning to kill you?"

"Well..." Greg tried to think back, but it was hard to concentrate with all those people anticipating his answer. So, he just said, "no. Not- not a clear idea, least."

"Interesting..." said Castor. "What happened next?"

"Well, they got into another argument. Once Roger heard David's plan, he asked some more questions about it. Here, he learned that David expected him to do the killing. And he refused, and dropped his weapon."

"Aha!" called Castor, startling Greg and turning to the jury box. "He dropped his weapon, clearly of his own free will. I would not call my client's actions heroic...but they are certainly not criminal!" He turned back to Greg. "And this permitted you leeway?"

"Yes, but only for a moment," said Greg. "I ran away, but I - I tripped." He went red - he had practically just told the whole crowd of people what an idiot he was. "And David Mason chased me down and brought me back to where I was before. Here, he threatened to kill Roger if he didn't kill me."

"His own brother!"

"Yes, his own brother."

"And...what did Roger do?"

"Well, first he looked like he was going to do it. But then, he realized he couldn't, and he dropped the gun again."

"And this let you escape?"

"Yes. I took the gun and ran away. This time, they didn't try to run after me."

Castor smiled. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," he said, approaching the jury box, "my client is not a bad person. As the witness says, he did not know of the plan of murder. And when he heard about it, he refused to be a part of it and permitted young Gregory to escape. Twice. And even when he had a gun at his back, Roger Mason did not give in to what he thought, what he knew, was right! He is the opposite of a criminal." Castor had twisted around so many of Greg's words, it was difficult to correct him. He took his seat and smiled at Roger. Roger did not return the gesture.

"Mr. Nadar, do you have any questions for the witness?" asked Judge Saber.

Nadar did not look happy. He clearly was not sure how to contradict the words of a victim that was still alive. David looked ready to kill his court-appointed lawyer as Nadar said, "No. No questions. Not for this witness."

"Mr. Kampbell?"

"Yes," Kampbell stood up and walked over to the stand. Greg was ready to persecute with all his strength...but when he looked over at the defendant, something in his mind clicked. The black eye. What Roger wanted was ridiculous. No matter how much he said he wanted to go, what he was going through with his brother would be ten times worse in jail. And then, he realized something that Roger obviously didn't - David was going to jail, too. Who knows how long he would last with that man hovering around him 24/7? If Roger died in jail, Greg's stomach churned at the thought, surely he would feel responsibility. He had no choice.

"Mr. Sanders," Kampbell said, "I have a few minor questions about your story."

"Go ahead."

"First off," he started, "after our first attempted escape with the car, you say that Roger Mason threatened to kill you?"

"Yes...no," said Greg, thinking hard.

"'No?' what do you mean no?"

"Well, not only me," said Greg slowly. "He said he'd kill anyone I tried to call for help."

"And why did he threaten this, exactly?"

"How should I know?" said Greg, annoyed.

"Do you think he just wanted the money very much and was trying to get you there?"

"Again, I don't know. Ask him when he testifies."

"Or do you think that he just enjoyed taunting you?"

"Objection! He's leading the witness!" called Castor.

"Withdrawn," said Kampbell. He moved on. "You also said that Roger Mason did not know of David Mason's plans, correct?"

"As far as I know."

"And yet, after he learns of the plan to kill you, he still does not let you go."

"Yes, he did."

"But not until after he learned that he was expected to do the killing."

Greg tried to understand this. "I suppose you're right..."

"Greg, you're a smart boy," said Kampbell, trying to prove the opposite of Greg that Castor was, "you're a CSI trainee. What does something like this tell you about Mr. Mason?"

"It tells me that either he doesn't want to kill or he doesn't want to go to jail," he answered honestly. He frowned, realizing where this was leading.

"So...Mister Mason didn't care what happened to you as long as he wasn't involved?"

"Uh...well..." Greg trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Please answer the question, Mr. Sanders," said Judge Saber.

"Well, I'm not sure how to answer that," said Greg. "You keep asking me what Roger was feeling or thinking, and I don't know."

Kampbell sighed. "Fine," he mumbled. "Now, you said that David Mason chased you. Where was Roger at this time?"

"Waiting by the cars, I expect."

"So he was just standing there?" said Kampbell, pacing back and forth. "Just waiting. He didn't go for help? He didn't try to stop David Mason?"

Greg shrugged. "I guess not."

"Is there any logical reason for not helping?"

"Panic,"Greg said, eyes on the ceiling, desperately trying to remember all the reading he did before he got a job, "or perhaps he was threatened, too."

"Or just maybe..." said Kampbell, trying to word his question carefully, "maybe he just didn't give a damn about your fate!"

"Objection!" cried Castor.

"Sorry, Your Honor, withdrawn." Kampbell put his hands to his face, thinking. He smiled. "Just one more question, if you please, Mr. Sanders."

"Go ahead."

"When Roger Mason was threatened by David Mason to kill you, what went through you head?"

"I thought I was a goner," said Greg. "The circumstances certainly said so."

"And...did you thin he meant to kill you?"

"Well, under the circumstances, it was inevitable -"

"Do you think he meant to kill you?"

"Meant? I don't know what you -"

"Please, answer the question, Mr. Sanders," said Judge Saber. "And remember, you are under oath."

Under oath. He had to tell the truth. The truth was the right thing. And he wanted to do the right thing. "Yes," whispered Greg. "There was a smile on his face."

There were gasps from the jury and the crowd. It sounded like the reaction to a revealing clue on a soap opera. Even the prosecutor looked flabbergasted, although he was also smiling due to the breakthrough in the case.

"He smiled?" said Kampbell, shocked.

"Yes. Are we done here?"

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," said Kampbell, "Roger Mason. He threatened to kill Sanders before he knew that was the plan; only lets him go because he doesn't want to go to jail; he didn't call for help when his brother chased Sanders down; and he smiled when pointed a gun in the victim's face. Tell me, does this sound to you like...a criminal, maybe?" The jury nodded amongst themselves. They were now all turning in the direction of the prosecution. Kampbell went in for the kill. "So, honorable people of the jury, answer me this - is Roger Mason a criminal!"

"No!"

Kampbell; the eyes of the jury, crowd, defendants, lawyers, and Judge Saber turned to the stand. Greg had shouted his answer into the microphone, and it now echoes in his ears as he stared back the prosecutor.

"What?"

"He's not a criminal. He's guilty of tricking me and scaring me. And by God, Roger Mason is also guilty of risking his own life to save mine."

"But- you said -" started Kampbell.

"I know what I said," said Greg. "I was just answering you questions honestly. But if Roger was so eager to kill me, why didn't he? He had every reason to. He had a gun at his back, no one was around...but no. And I know it was dark, but I could feel the look in David Mason's eyes - he was willing to kill. Roger knew this, too. And yet, he dropped to his knees and sobbed in anguish, probably because he knew he would now die, because he would not kill me."

No one said anything. Roger was looking back at Greg with an expression that was hard to read. It was somewhere between anger and confusion. But Greg smiled in retaliation. Kampbell took his seat quietly. Greg stood up and, with all the pride in the world, made his way back through the aisles and sat down.