As expected, Ashlyn's morning visit to her client was unsuccessful. Nicholas Brandt again stated that he would only provide information about his crime or motive about the witness, Norman Wieczorek. The lawyer was frustrated but unsurprised when she went to Maggie's office afterward.
The air conditioning in Maggie's office hummed evenly, keeping her office comfortable despite the unbearable heat that had descended on Boston that day. The office was functionally furnished, consisting mainly of a desk and a small table on the other side, each with matching chairs. The walls were painted white. The only thing that broke up the starkness of the room was a magnetic board on the left side of Maggie's desk. Alongside a series of colorful drawings, numerous pictures hung there showing Maggie with Elizabeth, Benjamin, Nikki, and Ashlyn. The atmosphere in the photographs seemed familiar, happy, and carefree. Behind the analytical machine that Maggie was in her professional life, she was a completely different person in her private life.
Ashlyn couldn't help but smile, but then she remembered the real purpose of her visit. While she sat at the small conference table in front of the office, her mother finished a phone call. The ME kept a ballpoint pen circling skillfully and quickly around her index finger, apparently without even noticing. Ashlyn had always been fascinated by her mother's dexterity, so she could hardly take her eyes off it. Maggie might have been a gifted doctor, but she could easily have had a career as a magician. The two professions weren't that far apart after all. The result of her work was often good for a surprise.
When Maggie finished her conversation, she came to the table and sat beside Ashlyn. "I'm sorry, but that was important," she said, frowning slightly.
Ashlyn took a deep breath and put her smartphone aside. "What must be, must be," she replied. She was still not sure whether it was really a good idea to meet with her mother.
Maggie sensed this and cleared her throat, "How exactly can I help you now?"
Ashlyn felt that Maggie's decision to talk to her was still on a knife edge. The doctor could have been more interested. So, the lawyer decided to get straight to the point before her mother changed her mind. And to do so without mincing words. She also knew that Maggie's information might not positively affect Nicholas Brandt. But she also knew she was stuck, so she put everything on one card. There was more to be gained here than lost. Challengingly and perhaps a little more brashly than usual, she said, "When you talked about the injuries of the three victims yesterday, I got the impression that your report wasn't complete."
Maggie blinked a few times and then raised her eyebrows to her hairline. "What do you mean?"
"I think you only gave the court exactly what was asked for. But that wasn't all you could have said, was it?"
The redhead licked her lips. "And what's wrong with that?" she asked sharply. She seemed to take the question as an attack.
Ashlyn pulled down the corners of her mouth and leaned back in her chair. "Well. As a medical examiner, I always thought you were also a detective. And that you were interested in the truth behind the obvious. However, I was a little disappointed by your statement yesterday. I think you were hiding something from us!"
"Ashlyn, I'm not sure what you're getting at. You're wasting your time if you're here to insult or question my work. You'll have to find someone else. I only agreed to a meeting because I hope you were interested in my expertise. Apart from that, I find it very, shall we say, remarkable that you, in your position, are accusing me of withholding the truth." Maggie took a deep breath, and it seemed she had to force herself to keep her composure. "Let's not fool ourselves. This is not about the truth for you. As always, you just want to win. You'll represent Nicholas Brandt come hell or high water, and if you get your hands on information, whether on purpose or by accident, that helps you, you'll exploit it beyond recognition. And if a fact doesn't fit your plan, you'll try to play it down or ridicule it." Ashlyn raised her eyebrows in surprise. She hadn't really expected this emotional speech. Maybe it was because the lawyer had been avoiding her parents for weeks to avoid this kind of conversation, and Maggie was now seizing the opportunity to throw these things at her. Undeterred, Maggie continued. "I find it particularly repulsive when you tear a witness apart, present them as untrustworthy, or simply corner them just to get them down. And if in doubt, just to achieve your goal of winning the next big case for yourself." Maggie exhaled deeply as if she had literally let off steam. "For me, it's about the truth. Unlike most lawyers, medical examiners must tell the truth because of our Hippocratic oath."
Ashlyn felt anger rising inside her, and instinctively, she wanted to dismiss Maggie's accusation outright. She then changed her mind at the last moment and took a deep breath to regain her composure. That was why she hadn't come to her mother's office today. Today, she was concerned about the matter, and now was not the time to argue with her mother about the pros and cons of being a lawyer. She had a client who had been in custody for many months, a client with a wife and daughter who probably meant a great deal to him. That's why she was here. And she was sure that Maggie held the key to something meaningful. And that's what she wanted; she needed to find out. So she replied as conciliatorily as she could to her mother's statement. "I understand that, Mom. Please don't be offended if I don't agree with you on everything, and we can talk about it at another time, but today, I came to you because I'm at an impasse. And because I suspect, no, because I'm sure you can help me. Not for my sake or the sake of a game, but because it serves the truth, just like you said."
Maggie looked at her daughter thoughtfully. The lawyer's last words triggered something in her. "I'm still quite sure what you're getting at. And I'll overlook that you're being a bit brash today. And just for good order, I'd like to clarify that my report regarding the assignment was complete. Everything else was just not up for debate." She then added smugly, 'Even if the result of the shooting is a bit remarkable.'
So it was, thought Ashlyn, and she frowned a little. 'Then you also think that not all the details were discussed in the courtroom yesterday?' she asked, hoping their conversation would take a constructive turn.
Maggie took a deep breath and nodded. She opened the file between the two women on the table and pointed to a computer-generated graphic. "As you know, I've been in my profession for quite some time and have examined thousands of dead people," she said with a frown. "You're right. This is a bit like detective work. When there are no multiple witnesses to a crime, as there were in the Brandt case, but only a dead body, it's not just about how someone died, but also what exactly happened." She paused briefly and looked Ashlyn directly in the eye. "What happened is not the question here. The statements in the file match the events of my investigation exactly. Take a look for yourself; you can follow the trajectory of the bullets exactly here," the ME continued, pointing to four lines that emanated from a central point on the graphic and ended in three depicted figures. "The first bullet hit the saleswoman Haley Robinson just below the shoulder. A clean through-shot that caused no internal bleeding from a vascular lesion.
Ashlyn nodded slowly and made notes with a frown.
"The slug is hardly larger than the bullet hole, which is essentially a result of the nature of the bullet used and the angle of impact."
The lawyer looked at her mother with interest. "And what does that mean?"
"That this has led to an uncharacteristically uncomplicated gunshot wound. If Haley Robinson had been the only one injured, I would have said she was fortunate."
"But she wasn't?"
"Yes, she is. But --" Maggie replied, '…let's look at the fourth shot that hit Dr. Sharma before we get to numbers two and three.' She pointed to the illustration. "The victim was grazed by the bullet on his thigh. The bullet tore open a trench-shaped wound on his skin very superficially. Without penetrating the body."
Ashlyn blinked a few times and frowned deeply. "So he was lucky, too?"
The redhead nodded slowly. "In a manner of speaking. However, this is quite unlike our third victim." She pointed to the two lines on the sketch that had reached their destination right next to each other. "Sanchez was fatally wounded. The bullets entered the body just next to each other, very close to the heart. In military ballistics, this immediate firing of shots in succession at the same point on the body is known as 'double taps.' The probability of fatal hits is much higher with this technique of two shots at practically the same time than with single shots. The serious injuries initially caused Sanchez's circulatory system to shut down, which led to a loss of consciousness after a few seconds and to brain death after about seven minutes due to a lack of oxygen supply."
Ashlyn looked at her mother intently and traced her chin thoughtfully with her fingers. "In other words, Eric Sanchez didn't stand a chance?"
Maggie nodded again. "Exactly. And that leaves us with only two conclusions." She paused and licked her lips. She wanted to see if the lawyer drew the correct conclusions herself.
"Either Robinson and Sharma were fortunate," the younger woman began. 'Or else...' She paused and then looked at Maggie questioningly.
She nodded in confirmation and finished the sentence. "...or your client knew exactly what he was doing."
xxx
"That was eight months ago; we really don't have any more recordings!" said the young sales assistant, slightly annoyed, and opened the large package in front of him on the counter with a cutter. Display protection films for the small range and for Boston, so typical cell phone stores came to light. The shelves in the tiny salesroom were crammed full of phone accessories up to the ceiling. And on the hooks on the walls, from protective covers and cables to simple and cheap headphones and Bluetooth speakers, there was everything a tech-head heart desired.
But Jalen Simms wasn't interested in any of that. He was here because he needed the information, which was very important for his cousin Ashlyn. He researched the anonymous message that led Sergeant Bailey to the Aux Délices Francais bakery. An old acquaintance, with whom he had worked at the BPD years ago, had obtained some information for him through back channels and finally presented the address of the small cell phone shop. The SIM card from which the message had been sent came from this shop. And Jalen wouldn't leave here until he knew who had bought that SIM card.
He pointed to one of the two surveillance cameras hanging from the ceiling of the small cell phone repair shop. "You upload the recordings directly to the cloud. I know the system very well, I've worked with it before. The data is stored for over a year and then automatically overwritten. Unless someone deliberately deletes it beforehand, large files are not so easy."
"Then we just deleted it!" the annoyed salesman replied. 'Now please go. My boss will return soon, and I don't feel like getting into trouble. Why are you asking me all this anyway?'
Jalen realized that he wasn't getting anywhere. Okay, he thought, there must be another way. It'll cost a little, but it'll be worth it. "Look, I don't care what you're doing here or what else you're selling to whom. I just want to know who bought this particular SIM card. No more, no less." He paused, reached into his jacket pocket, and, with a winning smile, conjured up a fifty-dollar bill. "The information shouldn't be free, after all."
The salesman's facial features relaxed as if he had flipped a switch. He obviously smelled easy money. "Okay, I'll check again. But we have to do it quickly before my boss gets here." His eyes fixed on the bill in Jalen's hand. "I'll do it for a hundred!"
"You get fifty when I get my information."
The seller thought for a moment but then seemed satisfied with the deal and began to tap furiously on the keyboard of his computer. Less than thirty seconds later, he turned the monitor to Jalen with a triumphant smile.
On the screen was a surprisingly good-quality still shot. In front of the sales counter, Jalen could clearly see the figure of a man, although his face was hidden by a baseball cap.
"So, this is him. You've got your man; I'll get my fifty bucks."
"No way, I can't even recognize him."
The seller snorted briefly in annoyance before typing something on his keyboard again. The image slowly began to move. Jalen could see precisely how the man on the monitor reached into his pocket, took out a wallet, and counted some banknotes on the counter. When he got the change back, a coin fell to the floor. He bent down and picked up the coin, and his face could be seen momentarily when he came back up.
"Stop, right there!" Jalen ordered. 'Can you please zoom in a little?'
Again, the young man tapped on his keyboard, and the man's face now filled the entire monitor.
"Excellent. And a printout of that, please!"
The salesman nodded, clicked the mouse, and the printer whipped. The result was perfect, and Jalen put the high-resolution color print of the screenshot in his pocket. Satisfied, he handed the bill across the counter to his counterpart. There was no doubt about it. Ashlyn would be happy. Nicholas Brandt was clearly recognizable on the security camera screenshot.