The Silence of Serpents

There is a smell Leon associated with the dying. He had grown to recognize it from all the terminally ill clients he had had to visit over the years. In hospitals, hospices and in private homes and bedrooms of clients too ill to come to his office. He had been in the bedrooms of many people ‘living’ through their final days and hours, but none of the rooms that he’d been to compare with the opulent bed chamber of the famous billionaire, Richard Lyons.

The bedroom reminded Leon of a miniaturized version of the rooms found in the palace of Versailles. The room was furnished with classical French furniture that Leon privately thought had been purchased, more for show than for comfort. Still, it was not for Leon to comment or to criticize how his clients choose to decorate their homes or spend their money. He was a lawyer, and he operated in a professional world with big red lines he never crossed, no matter how his clients choose to behave or act. Leon was a lawyer and despite hearing countless stories about others in his profession being “snakes in the grass”, there some ‘bottom lines’ he personally would not cross regardless of what others might think.

Although Leon had been this house many times before over the years, he had never been in Lyon’s bedroom. Leon used to play bridge regularly and Lyons had been his bridge partner up until about a year ago. So, Leon had been in the house on social occasions quite a few times in the past, but he had never been in the bedrooms in the house. Not the bedroom of Richard, nor of Jane Lyons, his wife who had died two years ago.

Leon now found himself in Richard’s bedroom, not due to social reasons, but because Richard was no longer able to leave the house or even get out of his bed. Richard was dying and bedridden, hence Leon had to make this house call for time was running short to complete a few outstanding legal matters before the deteriorating health of the client made this no longer possible.

Leon did not want to be in this house, much less this room, but the rules of his profession meant he was obligated to complete legal tasks he had been instructed to perform and come hell or high-water Leon was going to get what he had to do as a lawyer done. In other words, this was one of the bottom lines in how he practiced law.

As Leon approached Richard’s bed he could hear the labored breathing of Lyons. The lawyer stood silently next to and over his client’s body for a few minutes. Finally, Richard’s eyes opened slowly, and the dying man managed a weak smile on seeing his lawyer.

“Oh Leon, good of you to come,” Richard said in a weak voice that could be described more of a whisper.

“Of course, Richard, I had to come for the final signing of the will…I have it here do you want to read it over before you sign it?”

Richard was visibly disappointed with the formality of his lawyer’s tone of voice, but he ignored that and sat up to read over his last will and testament as quickly as he could.

When his client had finished reading the will, Leon asked the nurse and the gardener to come into the room, and the will was duly signed then witnessed by the two newcomers.

After the legal business was concluded, the nurse and gardener withdrew and once again Leon and Richard were alone in the room.

Leon was picking up his papers and preparing to go when Richard asked, “you don’t come over any more after the trial. Why’s that Leon?”

“Oh, it’s been very busy and so I guess I just haven’t had the time.”

“Leon, Leon how long have we known each other? There’s no need to lie to me is there? You were a bridge fanatic; you used to play every chance you got. So don’t tell me that suddenly you were too busy to find time for a game or two. Come on, there must be a reason why you stopped playing. Tell me why.”

“Richard it’s been a very busy time in my office. You should know your criminal trial occupied me and my associates for months on end. So, what can I say except it’s been very busy?”

Richard knew Leon too well to try and pry another response from his lawyer, so he was still for a moment before he changed tack by rhetorically asking, “you know I’m dying, don’t you?”

Leon nodded.

“So, what I’m about to say to you is confidential and must not be spoken of again outside of this room.”

“Richard you are my client and everything you say to me is confidential. You know that already.”

Richard nodded and added, “I know, I know…but I just…I just need to make sure.”

Leon remained still so Richard went on. 

“You acted for me in my defense at the murder trial.”

“Yes,” responded Leon patiently as the statement was redundant. 

In fact, Leon and his people had spent months of preparation and trial time on the murder case involving the case accusing Richard of murdering his wife, Jane, but Leon knew this statement was only a prelude to what his client really wanted to talk about.

“Well,” Richard said with a weak smile, “you got me off but guess what? I actually did it…I was the one who committed the murder that night!” 

There followed a momentary hiatus of silence between the two men with neither saying anything.

Richard studied the face of the other man, but Leon was impassive. 

Richard was deflated as his big moment had come and gone with his monumental reveal but had generated only a disappointing blank response from the lawyer. He was expecting nee yearning for a stronger response from his prim, proper and polite friend.

After a few more seconds, Richard came to his conclusion that his expected surprise was misplaced and asked incredulously, “you knew? You knew already that I did it? How?” 

Leon was silent for a few moments, then he said simply, “the video you gave the court as your alibi to prove you were in the diner on Friday night at the date and time when the murder took place was a fake.”

“How did you know?”

“The closed circuit tv video that your private detective produced was fraudulent because it showed you purporting to be eating a meal in Al’s diner on Friday night when the murder took place, but the video could not have been filmed on Friday as the detective claimed.”

“But the time stamp on the video showed the date and time I was eating at the diner, and it was exactly the time Jane was bludgeoned to death here in this house.”

The time stamp was wrong, someone must have adjusted the clock on the camera to show another date and time from the period when you were actually filmed eating there. Regardless of the fact that the court acquitted based on the video, I know that the video was manufactured to provide you with a false alibi.”

Richard smiled and said, “and who could have done that?”

“I don’t know who did it but you or someone who worked for you could have done that.”

Richard still not deterred asked further, “what makes you think that?”

“Because a company that you own did the security system for Al’s diner. I know that because I did the contract for that deal remember?”

Richard was momentarily taken aback. He had forgotten Leon’s firm were the lawyers who did the legal work for the mall that Al’s diner was in.  

When Richard recovered from his shock, he asked, “but how do you know the time stamp on the video was faked?”

“The daily specials on night of the murder were written on the daily specials board. And, that board could be clearly seen in the background of the video of your alibi video. I know it was a fake because you can see in the video that the board read that the special of the day was liver and onions.”

“So?”

“Al is a die hard Catholic, his specials on Fridays are always a variation of one sort of fish dish or another. It’s usually fish and chips, or broiled haddock or fish pie or some other fish dish. Al is very set in his ways on this. He always serves a fish as a special on Friday.”

Leon then looked directly at Richard and drove his point home by saying, “I’ve been going to Al’s for close to ten years now and he never puts on anything other than a fish dish as a special offering on Fridays. I once teased him on this and he said its his iron clad rule that fish is on the menu on Friday, and that will be the way things are at his place till he dies because he considered it a sin to do otherwise.”

Richard contemplated what Leon said for a moment then asked in a small voice, “you never said anything…”

“I’m your lawyer. It’s not my place to say anything about this in court. I have a duty not to mislead the court and that’s it. When I spotted this, I had my suspicions, but it was not for me to develop and question this discrepancy. It was the prosecution’s job to spot the weaknesses in your case. But they never picked up on this, and it was not for me to tell them about it.”

Richard smiled weakly and coughed. Leon saw some small flecks of blood on his sleeve after his cough, and he quickly wiped face with a handkerchief to remove as much of the blood as he could. Then he took a sip of the cup of pungent liquid by his bedside.

“What’s that you’re drinking it smells strong whatever it is,” asked Leon.

“It’s a mushroom tea…from Peru”, Richard replied weakly, “I drink it because it’s the only thing that gives me relief from my symptoms nowadays.”

“Richard, I think you have to stop drinking that stuff because….”

Leon was about to explain further, but Richard waved him off, “go on get out of here. I’m feeling really bad, so I’m done talking to you.”

“No listen I think you need to stop.”

“Get out now or I’ll throw you out.”

So, Leon gathered his papers and walked out the door. In the background he heard Richard’s hacking cough and wheezes as he went down the stairs. 

As he exited, Leon thought about Jane. Leon recalled how before she died, she had hired his firm independently of her husband. She needed legal help for a package she was importing from Peru that had been held up by customs because the mushrooms contained in it were considered toxic and dangerous if consumed.

Jane had told Leon that she needed the mushrooms for her herb garden, and the first he knew they were being consumed was just now. 

Jane had told him when he was hired that the mushrooms were a surprise for Richard and that he was not to breath a word of this to anyone. 

To Leon this meant that he owed her a duty of confidentiality independent of her husband.

Bottom lines in Leon’s world were occasionally hard to see but he comforted himself that he had complied with all of his bottom lines because he did try to say something before he was ejected from the house.

‘Well, it just goes to show that blunt force trauma works faster than slow poisoning,’ mused Leon as he left the house.  

 END