Chapter 5—Perfect

November 14, 2017

Lana tried to get her mind in the right position. It was her first case, and part of her was excited and thought of it as though it was a game. She hated that side of her at the moment. The case had room for doubt, but the investigation was quite certain that the defendant was guilty. Lana herself had participated, so she thought the same thing. Still, it was possible that she was framed, too. Her husband could have conceivably committed the crime and simply put the incriminating evidence in her flat. Lana returned to looking over the report.

Is there anything odd at all about this case? Mr. Hall is the only other suspect, and he has a rather strong alibi.

"It's been a while since I've seen you in green," a voice said. Lana recognized it as belonging to Miles almost instantly. He walked closer to her. "I've never seen you in that suit before. Is it new?"

"Yes," Lana replied. "It's… kind of weird, actually. A while ago, I took a look in the mirror while wearing my old suit, and I decided that I didn't like it that much. Just looking at myself, I felt as though I was returning to the way I was under Gant's control. I couldn't bring myself to wear it…"

"Well, though it means nothing with regards to how you fare in court, I think you look even lovelier in your new suit."

I had a feeling he'd say that. "Thanks," Lana said, feeling herself blush.

"What do you think about the case?" Miles asked, sitting down next to her.

"I'm almost certain the defendant is guilty. Given the circumstances, the only other possible suspect is her husband, and he's got an excellent alibi."

"And that alibi is…?"

"Cataplexy."

"I'm… not familiar with that term."

"Basically, it causes REM sleep paralysis while the patient is still awake. Patients can sometimes collapse completely and spontaneously. If he tried to steal the vase and had a cataplexy attack while fleeing, he'd be caught for sure. Considering the stress involved in stealing a valuable artifact from the British Museum, an attack is almost guaranteed."

"You know that doesn't guarantee he's innocent."

"Of course I know that. However, he was also at a pub when the crime happened. Plenty of people corroborated his alibi. Besides, there's also evidence that the defendant was at the scene of the crime: a security camera picture of her. It's still technically not decisive, but she and her husband are the only people who could have taken the vase to their flat. Unless she was there after the museum's closing time by chance while her husband sneaked past all of the security cameras and stole the sculpture, she's guilty."

"And what if there's another possibility?"

"It's possible someone else did all this, but it seems unlikely. The investigation didn't uncover any other leads, so it falls on the defense to point out anything we missed."

"I see."

"I tend to think of the defense as my partner in a game of whist. Either one of us can take the trick, and in that way, we're competing, but we also work together."

"Well put," Miles said with a smile.

Lana chuckled. "You look nice with a smile, too."

Miles was silent for a moment. He placed his hand on Lana's. "I think it's my turn to be proud of you. It's your first case and you already have an excellent sense of how to proceed."

"I have you to thank for that. Seeing you prosecute, seeing you fight for the truth… You didn't have a fellow prosecutor to learn from; you made your own path. That takes true strength of will and mind."

"It's time," the bailiff's voice called.

"I'll be watching from the gallery," Miles said as he got up. He took Lana's hand as she stood up. She smiled, amused.

"All rise for His Honour Judge Peter Maxwell," the clerk called out as the judge entered. Lana had seen Miles prosecute a murder case, so she was used to the layout. However, as this was a less serious crime, a lower-ranking judge was presiding.

Purple on a judge… I certainly can't imagine Judge Clous in that kind of robe.

"You may be seated," the judge said as he took his position. "Court is now in session for the trial of Mrs. Hannah Hall."

"The prosecution is ready, Your Honour," Lana said.

"The defense is ready, Your Honour," the defense attorney said. Her voice almost sounded like Mia's voice.

"Very well," the judge replied. "Ms. Skye, your opening statement, please."

"Of course, Your Honour," Lana stated. "On the night of the Eleventh of November, the Medici Valencian vase was stolen from the British Museum. A security camera took a photograph of an intruder that night, and the stolen vase was found in that intruder's flat the following day. That intruder is none other than the defendant, Mrs. Hannah Hall."

"Very well. What plea does the defense intend to enter?"

"Not guilty," the defense said.

"Understood. Ms. Skye, please call your first witness."

"The prosecution calls Detective Richard Cox to the stand," Lana said. "His testimony, in addition to the evidence presented, shall make the defendant's guilt quite clear."

The detective took the stand.

"Please state your name and occupation to the court," Lana requested.

"Richard Cox," the detective replied. "Constable, Criminal Investigation Department."

"Very good," the judge said. "Testify to the court about the circumstances of the defendant's arrest."

"Yes, Your Honour. The case was pretty simple. You see, there was nothing abnormal in the museum's camera data—save for one photograph. That photograph, taken after hours, was of the defendant. We identified her and got a warrant to search her flat. The vase was found hidden in a wardrobe. The only other suspect was her husband, but the security cameras didn't get any shots of him, not to mention he was at a pub when the crime happened. It's pretty clear-cut."

"Hm. Indeed, it does sound clear-cut. One has to wonder why the defendant didn't just bypass the trial entirely on a plea bargain."

"It's because she's innocent!" the defense attorney snapped. The courtroom was silent for a moment. The judge banged his gavel.

He cleared his throat. "If that's the case, I hope you'll be able to prove it in this cross-examination. By the way, please don't snap at me like that. The next time you make any unnecessary outbursts, you will be penalized."

"Your Honour," Lana added, "before that, I would like to present to the court the photograph taken by the security camera." Lana opened a file folder and took out the photograph. The defendant had barely been caught in the photo, but her face was recognizable. "Mrs. Hall worked at the museum before the crime was committed. She knew the location of all the security cameras. It appears she was just a little too slow to avoid this one, though."

"Accepted into evidence. Ms. Crocker, please begin your cross-examination."

"Detective, what you have said makes perfect sense," Crocker said, "but you have forgotten one thing. My client has an alibi."

"Excuse me?" Lana asked. "During questioning, she never mentioned an alibi."

"That doesn't mean she didn't have one. It just means she didn't feel like telling you about it. After all, it's not something she wants publicized."

"Please enlighten the court, then," the judge requested. "You claim the defendant has an alibi. What is it?"

"She was having an abortion performed."

The gallery started up. The judge banged his gavel repeatedly.

"Order! Order!" he yelled. "This abortion…"

"Was legal," Crocker finished. "However, as the witness is a Catholic, she wanted the procedure—as well as her pregnancy—kept a secret. After all, abortion is heavily frowned upon by the Catholic church. However, since she refused to reveal it, it fell upon my shoulders to disclose it to the court."

The gallery was silent for a moment.

"I… I see…" the judge finally said.

"Objection!" Lana shouted. "Ms. Crocker, this abortion… I assume you have medical records of it?"

"Right here," Crocker said, pulling out a file.

"A-accepted into evidence," the judge said.

"I see," Lana said. "Then please tell us: who is the woman in the security camera photograph?"

"The defendant's husband," Crocker replied.

"Objection! Mr. Hall has a watertight alibi!"

"Objection! That alibi was completely fabricated! Everyone who claimed Hall was at the pub had a personal connection to him and lied to protect him!"

What nonsense is this? You think you can turn the tables on a solid case that easily? "In that case, where's your proof that the person in the photograph is Mr. Hall?"

"My proof is a witness. The defense requests to call Mr. David Gurns to the stand!"

The gallery was noisier than a rock concert at this point. The judge banged his gavel several times.

"Orderrrr!" he yelled. "Ms. Skye. This alibi the defendant's husband had… was the prosecution aware that it was flawed?"

"The prosecution stands by its claim that Mr. Hall's alibi is watertight," Lana replied. "The defense is undoubtedly lying to win the case."

"Prove it," Crocker taunted.

I will. But right now, let's look at this witness of yours. "The prosecution will establish the fault in the defense's claims through the very witness they wish to call. Other witnesses will further confirm our claim."

"Very well," the judge said with a whack of his gavel. "Mr. David Gurns shall assume the stand."

Gurns took the stand. Lana knew from Crocker's claim that he was going to lie.

So the game of whist has become a game of hearts. You'll regret that decision, Ms. Crocker.

"Witness, please state your name and occupation for the court."

"David Gurns," the witness replied. "I'm a digital artist."

So that's your trick, is it? Well, I'm sure you'll play the queen of spades soon enough. I have all the aces, and I'll put them to good use.

"Please testify to the court, then," the judge requested. "The person in the photograph: the defense claims it's Mr. Hall; the prosecution insists it's the defendant. Who is it?"

"That photograph is a fake," Gurns testified. "One of my co-workers was hired by Ms. Skye to alter the photograph."

The gallery started jeering at Lana, interrupting the testimony. The judge banged his gavel.

"Order! Let the witness continue!"

Cute trick, Crocker. It's going to be exposed, though. I've heard more believable lies from Philip Morris.

"He was paid a thousand pounds for the job and eagerly accepted it," Gurns continued. "Originally, this was a photograph of Mr. Hall. Part of it was cut off so the person in the photo looked as though he had the defendant's physique."

The courtroom was quiet enough for one to hear a pin drop.

"M… Ms. Skye!" the judge roared. "You…"

"I deny all claims of forgery," Lana interrupted calmly. "After all, where is the original photograph, then?"

"Right here," Crocker answered, taking a photograph out of her files. "This original photograph, as you can see, is larger and clearly shows the defendant's husband."

Foolish move. Exposing that lie will be child's play.

"Objection!" Lana shouted. "Your Honour, I'd like to request that the two photographs be measured."

"E… Excuse me?" the judge asked.

"Standard security photographs—including those taken by the cameras at the British Museum—are size A4 when printed out. Which one is size A4, I wonder?"

"Size… A4? Um… Bailiff! Bring me a ruler!"

The bailiff ran out of the courtroom and brought back a ruler moments later. Lana looked over to Crocker and saw that she was sweating. The queen is mine now, Crocker. This next trick has the last of the hearts. I'm sure I'll take it.

"Thank you," the judge said. "Hm…" He measured the two photographs. "They're equal in the short dimensions, but the one from the defense is longer. But… what are the measurements for A4 paper?"

"210 by 297 millimeters," the stenographer said.

"I see. In that case, they're both fake."

"Wait!" the stenographer interrupted. "Size A4 paper is still acceptable if the dimensions are off by two millimeters or less."

"Hm?" The judge looked at his notes. His face contorted into a scowl. "Ms. Crocker."

And I've shot the moon. You should have played fair, Crocker.

"Yes, Your Honour?" Crocker replied, pretending to be calm.

"You are hereby held in contempt of court for presenting forged evidence."

"Objection! What about the medical records? As long as those are real, my client has an alibi and is therefore innocent!"

"They will be examined. This court will take a thirty-minute recess for the necessary analyses to be performed. Regardless of their legitimacy, your presentation of fabricated evidence will be reviewed by the Bar Association. I retract my previous decision to hold the defense in contempt of court… for now. Court is in recess."

Lana entered the Defendant Lobby. She and the defense needed to talk.

"What do you want?" Crocker snapped, noticing Lana.

"The truth," Lana replied.

"I'm guilty," the defendant said.

"No!" Crocker yelled. "Stop saying that! You're innocent!"

"No, you stop!" the defendant yelled back. "I never should have hired you! I ask you to give me a proper defense and you forge evidence and try to pin the crime on my husband! You're just a selfish wench who doesn't give a damn about her clients! You… You're fired!"

Crocker laughed. "And what will happen to you? You saw Ms. Skye—"

"I don't care! I'd rather go to prison than have you get my husband convicted of a crime I committed! Get out of my sight!"

"I've heard enough," Lana said. "You're not fit to stand in court, Ms. Crocker. We deal with people's lives in here; lies can send innocent people to their deaths. What was said in here can't be used in court against you, but you can be sure that this case will end in disaster for you." Lana walked out of the lobby. Mrs. Hall was hardly any better, considering that her decision to try to get acquitted meant that someone else would be convicted if she succeeded. Still, Lana respected her for coming to her senses in the end.

Crocker was almost sure to get disbarred; she had forged evidence, not to mention the "witness" was probably bribed and Crocker's alibi for her client was likely a lie. It was foolish to lie in court, let alone in such a small case. Lana had no pity for the woman; she deserved whatever punishment she had coming.

"Court is in session," the judge said with a whack of his gavel. "The analysis has confirmed that the medical files were forged. Had the defense not been dismissed during the recess, they would have been held in contempt of court. Mrs. Hall, you may represent yourself now or ask for a public defense attorney."

"I…" Mrs. Hall stammered. "I give up. I'm guilty. The director had fired me a few weeks ago because I had rejected his advances on me. I stole the vase as revenge. The money from selling it would make me and John able to get a better flat. A cataplexy attack cost him his last job… I didn't want him to be stuck in a substandard flat just because he can't get a job.

"In my desperation, I forgot… if I was acquitted, someone else would have to be convicted. I should have gone with a plea bargain from the start. If I had known Crocker would try to get my husband convicted, I would have never hired her. I had nothing to do with the lies Crocker told." She started crying. "Lock me up. I'm guilty. I stole the vase."

The gallery started up. The judge banged his gavel. "Very well," he said. "Ms. Skye, do you have anything to say?"

"The defendant has my respect for telling the truth in the end," Lana said, "but that does not absolve her of her crime. As Mrs. Hall has confessed and all points have been considered, I believe there is no need to wait any longer for the verdict."

"Agreed. This court finds the defendant, Mrs. Hannah Hall, guilty of theft. I sentence her to three years in a Category C prison. Court is adjourned." The judge banged his gavel.

Lana returned to the Prosecution Lobby and saw Miles waiting there. He was sitting on the sofa, relaxing somewhat. He got up upon noticing Lana.

"You were incredible," he said. "You stood your ground against a dishonest defense and came out unscathed. And the strategy for revealing the forgery… genius." He walked closer. "I learned so much from you in just one case."

"It's only because you blazed the trail for me," Lana replied. "I've learned even more from you, and I can tell just from seeing your trials that the path you walk is a just one."

Miles smiled. Lana saw tears in his eyes. "Yes… Yes… it is a just one." He reached into his coat pocket and took out a small red velvet box. Lana knew what was in it before he even opened it. "Which is why I want you to walk that path by my side." The ring was inside. Lana felt her heart try to burst out of her chest. "I want to marry you."

"Miles…" Lana felt tears form in her own eyes as she took the ring from the box and delicately placed it on her left ring finger. Never mind that he's proposing in the courthouse… The answer's still the same… "You know I will." She walked into Miles's arms and hugged him tightly, placing her chin on his right shoulder. She felt Miles's arms tighten around her.

"I love you, Lana," he said. "I always will."

"I love you, too Miles. And now we'll never be forced apart again. I'll always be there for you, and you'll always be there for me. It's finally over. After so much struggling, so many fights, we're together again."

"Yes. And we always will be. …I have a new definition of perfection now. A job I excel at and take pride in, a great home, a fabulous wife… My life is so close to perfect that anyone seeing it from the outside would think it was."

Lana took her head off of Miles's shoulder and looked into his eyes. "Not your life, Miles… Our life."

Miles leaned in slightly. Lana took the hint and kissed him on the lips.

"Yes," Miles said. "Our life."