When her cell phone rang, Ashlyn recognized the number and knew who was calling.
"Hello, Ms. O'Laighin, it's me, Tim Garner. Are you free right now?"
Garner sounded much more confident than he had the day before. Ashlyn suspected that her client could handle the situation better when he had time to think about all the aspects in peace.
"Good morning," she replied in her kitchen, taking a sip of coffee and frowning as she waited to hear Garner's decision. She looked at Kim, standing behind the kitchen island, stirring her cereal with a spoon, lips pursed. "Yes, it's fine with me, thank you for asking. I was already waiting for your call."
"Good. I talked to Carlo, I mean, Mr. Holland about everything for a long time yesterday. And I still have a few questions because not everything is clear to me."
Ashlyn paused momentarily, looked at her girlfriend as she chewed on her lower lip, took her coffee cup, and made her way to the bedroom. She could still hear Kim snorting in exasperation. "Okay, fire away."
"So, if I become a joint plaintiff, you'll still be my lawyer, right?"
Ashlyn closed the bedroom door and leaned her forehead against it with her eyes closed, nodding. "Absolutely, unless you'd like to be represented by someone else."
"No, no, absolutely not. And if you represent me, who will pay the costs? I mean, how do I pay you?"
Ashlyn was familiar with this question. She knew many potential clients did not even approach lawyers for fear of high costs. It was a common misconception that lawyers were always costly. However, a number of instruments, such as legal aid, offered support to citizens seeking justice.
"We have a few options," she said, explaining the various possibilities. "If you decide to join the case, I'll file a motion to be assigned as your defense attorney. If the motion is granted, the city will pay my fees."
"And if it's not?"
"Then," replied Ashlyn, who had already thought of that, 'I would work for you pro bono, so I would waive my fees.'
"Why would you do that for me?" Garner asked with disbelief in his voice.
"Because your case is essential to me. And I believe that it must be thoroughly investigated. There is no way we are going to let my fees stand in the way of that."
Ashlyn heard Garner sigh with relief on the other end of the line.
"Thank you," he said. "That makes things a lot easier for me." There was a short pause, and Ashlyn heard the rustling of paper. "Then I had another question written down. You said I don't always have to be present in court, right?"
Ashlyn heard the front door open and close again, sat on the edge of her bed, and buried her free hand in her hair, frowning deeply. "That's right," she said, hiding her current private situation. "And we would coordinate that very carefully. Your presence is only required for your testimony."
"Okay, I understand that. The last question is actually the most important one. Do you think the trial would be more successful with me there?"
Ashlyn didn't have to think long to answer that. Because of her years as a lawyer, she had learned that all the abstract legal regulations and the many laws with their difficult-to-understand wording could not replace a fact. In the end, it was people who met in the courtroom. And no matter how simple and clear a case might appear on paper before the trial, the testimony of victims and witnesses, the attitude and behavior of the defendants, the small subjective and often unintentional and sometimes even revealing gestures and glances often turned everything upside down.
"Yes," she replied with conviction, massaging her skull, "yes, I believe that!"
xxx
The sun had already set, and darkness was descending over the city.
Ashlyn sat on the terrace of her apartment with a glass of red wine. Kim had sent her a text during the day saying she would be spending the weekend with friends in Hartford, which the lawyer was a little glad about that evening. After a long day at the office with far too much work, she hadn't felt the need to be reproached once again for barely talking about her work or spending far too much time with Micaela Barboza, as Kim had done more and more frequently in the past few days and weeks.
Ashlyn had celebrated her last major court victory here with her family and Kim not too long ago. The trial against Nicolas Brandt, in which Ashlyn had unintentionally taken on the defense as a prosecutor, had dragged on for months. Ashlyn had promised herself she would not take on such extensive cases after she founded her firm. And now they were on the verge of Marcus Cantu's arraignment. The trial would attract as much, if not more, press and limelight.
What the heck, Ashlyn thought, glancing at the five pages she had laid out on the table in front of her, the draft of Payne's next article. For Ashlyn, there was no question that the text would dominate the discussion in Boston over the weekend and probably across the country. Tracy Payne had sent her the article earlier that day, asking her to take an extra critical look at it. Payne wanted to know whether she had remained objective and had not overstepped the mark emotionally.
With each line that Ashlyn read, her respect for Payne grew. Payne's fears were completely unfounded. In clear, short, yet compelling sentences, the journalist explained what had happened in the Boston child protective services back then. She didn't mince her words, but she described it neutrally, simply as it was. She didn't speculate on the motives of the individuals involved, mainly Cantu's intentions. Nor did she condemn anyone but allowed the reader to form their own opinion. Ashlyn knew what that would be. She didn't need to be a clairvoyant for that.
xxx
Marcus Cantu looked at the wreckage of his political career. The Sunday edition of the Boston Observer was available at all outlets still open an hour ago. In addition, the online edition had been on the web for a good half an hour. Social media was abuzz, and one comment followed another. The extent of the outrage went far beyond the reactions to the first article.
And there was every reason for that. On a two-page spread with numerous images from original files, redacted in the crucial places to protect the rights of those concerned, Payne painted an objective but detailed picture of Marcus Cantu in his role as the head of a youth welfare office. Using three examples, Payne showed how Cantu was not just an accidental and passive bystander in implementing Granther's idea but had repeatedly promoted and supported it. Despite warnings from other employees and psychologists, Cantu had been committed to handing over underage boys to known pedophiles, in two cases even against urgent recommendations. Particularly explosive was the fact that the foster fathers had been previously convicted of sex crimes against children.
And the file contained even more explosive material. Cantu had failed to follow up on numerous complaints from children who, in the course of accompanying discussions with employees of the youth welfare office, had reported their horrors in sometimes horrifying detail. Rather, he had ignored them or dismissed them as the fantasies of prepubescent children who only wanted to tarnish the good reputation of their foster fathers.
The article dealt the final blow with another incident, which was also on record. When he apparently began to realize the extent of his disastrous decisions sometime after the placement of the last child, he chose the wrong path again. Instead of doing everything in his power to make all evidence of his involvement disappear.
In summary, the article painted the picture of an opportunistic man who seemed to know neither responsibility nor morals. In other words, Cantu was finished.
But that wasn't all: less than five minutes before, the incumbent mayor, Michael Schultz, had called him. His long-time companion and party colleague suggested he call a press conference the following day and resign from his post as interior senator. At the same time, he was supposed to resign from all political offices, in line with a recommendation from his party leadership, which had met just twenty minutes earlier in an emergency teleconference. Schultz had also advised him to withdraw entirely from public life for now. As a friend, he had assured him that the party would not comment on the matter until Monday morning.
"He can stick his friendship up his ass," Cantu thought angrily. 'Where was the much-vaunted solidarity when you needed it?'
He felt numb, unable to think straight. How had it come to this? And where did the editor get the files? He had all the records destroyed, didn't he? Almost a hundred files. There were no more electronic records either. At least, that's what he thought until this morning.
He was wrong. And there was only one explanation for that. Someone must have betrayed him. But who? And why?
Cantu laughed. Actually, it didn't matter anymore.
He closed his laptop, pulled open the large desk drawer, and reached for the bottle. Best single malt.
He poured himself a double whisky and drank it down in one gulp. The whisky felt hot and good.
Slowly, Cantu came to rest again. He had wanted to drink the bottle with his closest friends and advisors on the evening of his election as mayor in a month. That was now off the table, just like his career.
He got up from his chair and opened the large windows. What the heck, he thought. Maybe the mayor was right. Cantu felt his fighting spirit growing again. Disappeared from the scene for a few months. It could be a whole year. And then come back with a bang as a reformed man.
Could he publish a book simultaneously and turn his current weakness into strength? Could he get involved in child protection? He wouldn't be the first person to succeed in that and certainly wouldn't be the last.
When he needed reassurance in crisis situations, he reached for his smartphone and opened his banking app. A glance at his account balances and deposits made him feel good. He had managed to accumulate enough wealth in recent years. At least money wouldn't be his problem.
xxx
On her way to the office, Ashlyn had been amazed.
The Cantus party staff did a great job on Sunday. They removed all the advertising Cantu supported throughout Boston and the surrounding area. However, the damage done by Tracy Payne's article and Cantu's resignation was irreparable. Cantu's party poll numbers plummeted in a single day. The leading candidates of the other parties remained silent in public and agreed not to comment further on the former political star's surprising fall.
Who knows, Ashlyn thought. Maybe they all had skeletons in their closets, too.
After she arrived at her office, she wrote her to-do list as she did every morning. The first thing she would do was call Micaela and ask her what the approximate schedule of the DA's Office looked like. After the initial shock of being confronted with his past as head of the Department of Child and Family Services, Cantu was in for an even bigger surprise: the murder investigation into Justin Booker, in which he was the prime suspect.
Ashlyn reached for her cell phone and dialed Micaela's number.
"Hey, Ash, I thought you might call me today. It's been quite a weekend."
Ashlyn took a deep breath and licked her lips. "You could say that. And Cantu still has no idea what else is in store for him. That's why I'm calling. I spoke to Garner, and we'll join the trial as joint plaintiff once the indictment is approved."
"Okay. Are you sure Garner wants to do this?"
"Yes, we are. I've agreed he'll be present for as little time as possible. I'll represent him alone on most days."
"But he'll testify as a witness?" Micaela followed up after a few seconds.
Ashlyn nodded slowly. "Absolutely. And he'll likely be included in the closing arguments. But it'll be a while before then if it even comes to that."
"You can count on it. We have put together a pretty convincing chain of evidence. The next step is to formally question Cantu as the accused. However, I don't expect him to comment on the matter."
Ashlyn agreed with Micaela. Cantu would invoke the 'nemo tenetur' principle, which granted every defendant the fundamental right to remain silent. No one should be forced to help convict themselves. "What's your timetable?"
"Well, the investigation is actually largely complete. That means that after Cantu's interrogation, which we have planned for this week, we will press charges immediately. However, we both know it will take at least another two to three months before the first court date."
Ashlyn nodded slowly and took a deep breath. The mills ground thoroughly. But slowly. "All right, I'll keep you posted if we find anything else."
"Do that. And when you're officially admitted as a joint plaintiff, we'll sit down again."
"Okay," Ashlyn agreed.
When she hung up, she regretted not asking Micaela for a private meeting. But maybe it was better that way. If the press had found out about their relationship, it would have sparked all sorts of speculation.
What did the joint plaintiff have to do with the prosecutor?
Ashlyn dismissed the thought and made one last note. Then, she closed the Garner file for the time being. She would have little to do here in the next few weeks. And since Garner was safe and, as she now knew, happy at Holland's, she decided to take the rest of the day off without further ado. She could now treat herself to the break she had wished for so long. Because as soon as the spectacle started, she wouldn't have a free minute.