Dr. Maggie Ross sat on the witness stand and took a deep breath.

Ashlyn looked over at the ME skeptically. She still remembered the last time they had met in court. Not even a year ago, Maggie had blown the defense of defense attorney Davin Pearson, playing right into Ashlyn's hands.

At the time, Davin Pearson had represented a defendant who had been involved in a brawl at a party and had almost beaten a guest to death. After the incident, blood was taken from his client. A good three per mille spoke for itself, and Pearson's entire defense strategy was based precisely on this fact: his client was only able to assess the consequences of his actions to a limited extent due to his blood alcohol level, which meant that a reduction in the penalty was to be assumed. The facts were clear, and Pearson assumed a simple procedure. But his entire argument suddenly collapsed like a house of cards when Dr. Maggie Ross used a toxicological drunkenness analysis that was airtight to prove beyond doubt that Pearson's client had been fully capable of acting at the time of his crime and had only become drunk afterward. Davin Pearson was less annoyed at the harsh sentence, not because his client had lied to him – that happened all the time – but because he had lost court because of Maggie.

Ashlyn was already familiar with the report that Maggie had prepared in the Nicholas Brandt case regarding the injuries to the surviving victims, as well as the events of the autopsy on Eric Sanchez, who had been shot and killed, which Maggie had performed late that afternoon.

As in their last encounter in court, Ashlyn did not expect her mother's report to reveal anything new in this case. Her thoughts were already focused on the witness who would be heard that afternoon. Norman Wieczorek.

Accordingly, she paid little attention to her mother's questions about her personal details and instructions about her rights and obligations as an expert witness. Only when Judge Rhodes gave Maggie the floor did Ashlyn really listen again.

"First of all, I have some good news," Maggie began. 'The injured parties, Haley Robinson and Dr. Peter Sharma are both doing well again.'

A murmur went through the room, and the tabloid journalists, once again occupying the front row of the courtroom that day, eagerly took notes. This, in turn, caught the interest of DA Ryan Bauman. He had a natural flair for attracting attention and obviously sensed a headline with his name in it. So, turning less to Maggie herself than to the audience, he asked, "And how is Eric Sanchez?"

A few chuckles were heard in the courtroom. For the most part, however, the remark caused irritation. The fact that Eric Sanchez had succumbed to his injuries at the bakery was not only common knowledge but had also been widely reported in the media in recent months.

Ashlyn took a deep breath and shook her head in disgust. Even by Bauman's standards, it was an unexpectedly low remark. Obviously, Judge Rhodes felt the same way.

"Mr. Bauman, I ask you to refrain from such interruptions in the future. I will give you the floor soon enough," she reprimanded Bauman in such a stern tone that he winced for a moment before returning to his obviously feigned smugness.

The judge then turned to Maggie again, much more kindly. "Please excuse the interruption. I am very pleased to hear that the two are well again. Thank you for this good news."

Bauman cleared his throat and looked at his file. "On January 12, you performed the autopsy on Eric Sanchez, who was shot in the Aux Délices Francais bakery. On January 14, you examined the two victims, Haley Robinson and Dr. Peter Sharma, at Mass Gen. Would you please tell the court what you found?"

Maggie nodded and spent the next thirty minutes recounting the events of her examinations. Judge Rhodes only asked follow-up questions to ensure that the jury understood everything as well as possible based on the ME's use of a medical term.

As a result, Haley Robinson and Dr. Peter Sharma had each been hit by a bullet from Sergeant Andrew Bailey's service weapon, which the defendant Nicholas Brandt had stolen from him in front of the bakery. Contrary to initial assessments at the scene, neither had sustained life-threatening injuries. The situation was different for Sanchez, who, according to Maggie's statement, was hit by two shots near the heart and died a few minutes later at the scene.

Ashlyn, who had been following her mother's explanations with reduced attention until then, suddenly pricked up her ears. She drew a schematic sketch with the participants' positions on the white paper. Something was wrong here. But what? She heard her mother's last sentence over and over again in a loop.

Eric Sanchez had been shot twice. Any medical help was useless from the outset.

This meant that even if help had arrived at the scene as quickly as possible, it would not have reached Eric Sanchez.

He was inevitably going to die.

xxx

After Maggie's testimony, Judge Rhodes suspended the proceedings for ninety minutes. Ashlyn turned to Brandt briefly but could tell from his expression that her client had no interest in discussing the matter with her, even after Maggie's testimony. She shrugged her shoulders and gave Brandt only a brief nod before he was taken back to the holding cell for lunch.

The numerous court reporters had been waiting for this moment to finally be able to interview Ashlyn alone. They virtually pounced on the attorney, full of hope of eliciting a statement from her about the case. In contrast to Bauman, Ashlyn had yet to make any statements about the trail to the media.

"Ms. O'Laighin, Tommy Graham. Quick question: How do you assess your client's situation after the trail?" And with an almost mischievous smile, he added, 'It seems like you're in a bad way, aren't you?'

Ashlyn, who was more amused than annoyed by the provocative question, looked up from her documents. She knew Tommy Graham well, had often seen him in the courtroom, and had also given him a statement or two. She actually appreciated the journalist's pointed and well-researched reporting. But today, she had no interest in talking to him or his colleagues. She raised her hands defensively towards the more than ten journalists holding their recording devices. "Ladies and gentlemen. As on the last two days, I will not make any statements today either." She smiled mischievously at the journalists and turned to DA Ryan Bauman. 'But I imagine you'll have more success with the prosecutor.'

The journalists followed Ashlyn's gaze, and when they realized they would get no further information from her, they moved on to Bauman.

Ashlyn couldn't help but smile at how easily she had gotten rid of the press. Then her gaze fell on the chair where her mother, Maggie, had been sitting a moment ago, and the smile instantly vanished. Two were wounded, and one had to die. Was that really a coincidence? She should have asked her mother. But what if she gave Maggie an idea that could only harm her client? Then Maggie would have the chance to tear her defense to shreds this time. Ashlyn hesitated. Oh, what the heck, she thought. I can't be in a worse position than I am now. She grabbed her pen and a legal pad and left the court room. In the hallway, she looked around searchingly and saw Maggie turning around the corner at the end of the hall.

With hurried steps, she followed the redhead.

"Dr. Ross, please wait a moment!" she called a little louder and caught herself just before she actually said, "Mom."

Maggie stopped and turned around. When she recognized her daughter, she looked at Ashlyn questioningly. "Ashlyn, what can I do for you?"

Ashlyn took a deep breath and licked her lips. "I was just taking some notes during your report and noticed something I would like to discuss with you," the lawyer replied wide-eyed.

Maggie took a deep breath and looked at her watch, frowning. She obviously didn't have much time. She replied curtly, "And why didn't you ask me that in court?"

Ashlyn faltered for a moment. But something deep inside her told her not to let her mother go. In the end, she followed her instinct. "I'll be honest with you. The results of your investigation apparently allow for some conclusions that may shed a whole new light on the case. Bauman is no longer interested in it. The facts speak for a conviction. But everything is at stake for my client, and every little straw can help."

Maggie had listened carefully to her daughter and looked at her intently. The redhead also seemed still trying to figure out what to make of all this. She licked her lips, pulled her iPhone out of her pocket, and checked her appointments in the calendar. With a doubtful undertone, she said, "I'm not sure where this is supposed to lead. Usually, my work is done when I testify in court." She hesitated.

Ashlyn frowned a little. "But this is indeed all a bit, shall we say, bizarre."

Maggie licked her lips, too, and took a deep breath. "Fuck it. I don't have time today, but come to my office at 11:30 tomorrow."

Ashlyn nodded slowly and in agreement. "Okay, thanks, Mom."

xxx

A good hour later, the trial resumed with the examination of the next witness.

At first glance, there didn't appear to be anything special about Norman Wieczorek. In his early fifties, with short dark hair, a mustache, and a shirt printed with motifs, he looked self-confident as he took his place on the witness stand. However, Ashlyn was aware of the apparent aplomb of the mid-level civil servant. Wieczorek kept tapping his right foot and straightening the papers before him. Ashlyn realized that the man was utterly nervous. Very good, she thought, maybe you do have something to hide. Let's see what your testimony has to say.

Since Maggie, as an expert witness, was not technically considered a witness, Wieczorek was the fourth in her trial.

After being questioned by Ryan Bauman, who essentially confirmed the statements of the first two witnesses, and a few inconsequential questions from the now conspicuously well-behaved Bauman, Judge Rhodes granted Ashlyn the right to ask questions.

"Mr. Wieczorek," Ashlyn began in an unusually sharp tone for the proceedings so far, standing up from her chair. "I want to be honest. I just can't shake the feeling that you have a little more to tell us than you have put on record so far."

Wieczorek winced. 'What do you mean?' he asked uncertainly, and all his feigned self-confidence collapsed. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

"I mean it exactly as I said it."

Looking for help, Wieczorek looked to the judge, who looked questioningly at Ashlyn. She didn't know what the actual prosecutor was getting at either.

Ashlyn sensed that she had very little time to produce a tangible result because Valarie Rhodes did not allow games in her courtroom.

Ashlyn nodded to herself and cleared her throat. "Then I'll refresh your memory," she continued relentlessly to further intimidate Wieczorek. She had to put maximum pressure on Wieczorek as quickly as possible and corner him if there was something. "In your statement to the police on January 14 of this year, pages forty-seven and following of the file, you said, and I quote: "Nicholas Brandt, the man who stormed into the bakery, opened fire almost immediately. I don't know exactly how many shots he fired, but with one or more shots, he then shot the man at the table. He executed him." She paused and fixed the witness with a steady gaze. "Do you still remember that?"

Wieczorek fidgeted nervously with his hands. "Yes, I remember that."

"And doesn't that drastic choice of words seem a little unusual to you? You wanted to get one over on my client, Nicholas Brandt. It seems as if there is something you have not told us so far."

Wieczorek looked down at the floor, obviously unsure of what to say.

Ashlyn was now almost sure that she had hit the mark. Wieczorek knew something he didn't want to come clean about. But before she could fire another question at the witness, Ryan Bauman jumped up and addressed Judge Rhodes. "Your Honor, I don't know what this is about. This isn't the Wild West, is it? I don't see what Ms. O'Laighin is getting at here. She seems to be confused about who's the accused here. Do we really need to listen to this?"

Confidently and calmly, so typical of her, Rhodes replied only briefly: "Thank you for your input, Mr. Bauman. Please take a seat again." Then she turned to Ashlyn with a questioning look. "Ms. O'Laighin, I agree with Mr. Bauman on this matter and would like to ask you to moderate your tone slightly. You are welcome to exercise your right to question to the full extent, but please do so in a relevant manner."

"Of course, Your Honor," Ashlyn replied confidently, then looked back at Wieczorek. "So, Mr. Wieczorek. Please tell us if something is going on between you and my client that we should know about."

Norman Wieczorek reached for the water glass in front of him with a shaky hand and took a big gulp. Then he answered, not without clearing his throat twice. "Well, with Brandt, well..." He paused. Then he sat up straight and said exaggeratedly, "No, there's nothing. Nothing at all."

Ashlyn was sure that this was a lie and hoped to expose Wieczorek with the next question. But then something happened that she hadn't expected either.

Wieczorek looked up at Judge Rhodes and said in a shaky voice, "Your Honor, I'm sorry, but I don't feel well. I think I've caught the flu."

Ashlyn couldn't believe her eyes. He's not going to leave the trial now, is he? Just when I've got him on the ropes.

But before Judge Valarie Rhodes could respond to Wieczorek's question, Ryan Bauman jumped up again and hurried to the witness with a concerned look. "Mr. Wieczorek, are you all right, or should we call someone? You look terrible." He turned to the judge and said so loudly that it could be heard even in the farthest corner of the courtroom: "We have to stop immediately. Otherwise, the witness will collapse. We need a paramedic."

Judge Rhodes gasped, and Ashlyn was sure she would reprimand Bauman immediately and clarify that she was still the one conducting the trial, not him. But her eyes first wandered to Wieczorek and then to the numerous reporters, who had all jumped up from their seats at Bauman's exclamation to see precisely what was happening at the front. It dawned on Ashlyn that the judge had no choice: since they first had to see how Wieczorek was doing, Rhodes would play along with Wieczorek. Therefore, she asked the witness if he wanted a drink of water or was in serious trouble.

"I think it's getting worse," Wieczorek replied, and now even leaned on his hands as if he was afraid of falling out of his chair otherwise.

He's faking it, thought Ashlyn, unable to believe what was happening.

The noise level in the courtroom had now increased so much that the judge struggled for attention with her gavel and called out loudly, "I'm adjourning the session for twenty minutes." Turning to the bailiff, she said, "Please clear the room and call an ambulance. The witness Wieczorek is feeling unwell."

Less than three minutes later, the courtroom was empty except for the parties to the proceedings, and the paramedic arrived, who was affectionately and jokingly called Nurse Conny by everyone in the court, although his name was Cornelius. After he had laid Wieczorek, who had meanwhile stretched out on the floor of the courtroom, on a small mat, he measured his blood pressure and routinely asked a few questions. Then he turned to Judge Rhodes. "Judge Rhodes, we certainly don't need an emergency doctor here, but I would say that Mr. Wieczorek needs some rest. I wouldn't question him again today."

Ashlyn groaned loudly and let her arms drop with a roll of her eyes.

xxx

After the hearing, Ashlyn was on her way to her car and dialed her best friend's cell phone number. "Jalen ," she called when he answered the phone after the seventh ring. " Today's hearing went really badly, but we have another lead."

"Hold on a second," Jalen replied, and it sounded as if he was busy with something else. After a few sounds Ashlyn couldn't identify, Jalen's voice was heard clearly. 'Sorry, Ash, what's up?'

Ashlyn paused and raised her eyebrows. "Am I bothering you?"

"No, no, I'm fine, I was just... Oh, never mind. So, go ahead."

"I just questioned Norman Wieczorek in the Brandt trial, and I'm sure he had something to do with it."

"Okay," Jalen replied. "It sounds a bit confusing. What exactly do you mean?"

In the following minutes, Ashlyn told her best friend what had happened in the trial and ended by saying that the hearing wouldn't continue for precisely one week.

"I want you to take care of Wieczorek. The guy is hiding something. Feel him out a bit. Wouldn't it be funny if you didn't get more out of it? I mean, if not you, who?"

"Well, I can do that. I don't know yet how I'm going to organize the time. There's also the matter of the message. But anyway, I'll manage somehow. Don't worry, I'll take care of it. It'll take a few days, though. And say," he added, "can't you check with Brandt to see what he says about it? If he says anything?"

Ashlyn unlocked her car and frowned a little. "I was planning on it anyway. I'll see him tomorrow morning," she concluded the conversation and hung up. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that Wieczorek had collapsed today. That gave her a week to thoroughly prepare for the second part of her interrogation. And then she would tear Wieczorek apart using every trick in the book.