The Defense

Billy sat in his office with a fresh coffee ring on the naked wooden table. It was the second fresh pot he made. The first was a gesture of hospitality. The second was a result of frustration and boredom. He looked at his watch that read 9:30am, and then through his window to see the rain flooding down the glass. Moments later Billy heard the bustling of someone wiping their feet on the floor, immediately followed by the opening door.

“Sorry I’m late,” said an older man in a black raincoat and a briefcase in hand. It was Alistair. A fairly tall man, as tall as Billy, who also worked with Billy at the firm.

“I get it,” Billy said trying to hide the fact that he’d been waiting for thirty minutes. “I’m sure traffic is shit.” There was a pause of silence while Alistair hung up is jacket. “Just made a fresh batch,” added Billy, gesturing at the coffee machine. “Help yourself.”

Alistair walked over to the table placing his briefcase by an empty chair. He moved on to the coffee machine to pour himself a cup; his back facing Billy. Billy, face down, lifted his eyes giving Alistair a look similar to one a sibling would give when they had been tattled on. Alistair took a seat at the table, across from Billy, and blew on the coffee he just poured before taking a sip. “That’s good joe,” he said genuinely. There was another pause.

“Did you know that coffee beans are technically not beans?” Alistair threw in. “They’re actually seeds, but we call them beans because they resemble them so mu-”

“Why do you do that?” asked Billy, somewhat cross.

“Do what?”

“Go off about things nobody cares about.” Billy took a breath and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Okay, okay, message received,” Alistair said with a smile, as if Billy’s aggressiveness didn’t phase him. Alistair placed his briefcase on his lap and began to open it, taking out a stack of papers. He set them in the center of the table directly between Billy and himself.

Billy reached forward, picking up the top paper. He had seen it before, but still had a look of uncertainty on his young face. It was the police report. Billy noticed the ‘nothing’s wrong’ expression on Alistair’s face.

“Does it not get to you?” Billy asked.

Alistair, putting away his briefcase, replied, “no, I quite like the rain.”

“No, I mean defending him,” Billy said with a concerned tone.

Alistair adjusted himself in his chair. He leaned forward putting his elbows on the table and interlacing his fingers just centimeters from his chin. Very calmly he said, “when you’ve done this job as long as I have, you realize that everybody deserves a defense. And we’re the best at it. Our strength comes from our words.”

“I know that,” said Billy. “I want to know how you feel about defending someone with overwhelming evidence against them.”

It didn’t take long for Alistair to reply. “My opinion is irrelevant, or else I wouldn’t be a very good lawyer, would I? Besides, we’ll know a lot more once we meet with him in a few hours.”

Hopefully, Billy thought. He averted his eyes from Alistair and looked again at the report in his hands. Billy understood what Alistair had said, but he couldn’t hide the voice of morality standing ground in his head. Their client was accused of murder on three different accounts, and Billy was having trouble ignoring the record. The timing was too perfect to be a coincidence, especially when the murder weapon was found in his possession. Billy thought to himself, if his DNA is found on the victims then there’s no question. He put down the paper and began twisting his wedding ring on his finger. It had become a habit whenever he was deep in thought.

Billy wondered if Alistair was as anxious as he was waiting to meet with a suspected killer. There were a lot of things Billy didn’t know about Alistair. He was such an enigma to everyone at the firm. All that Billy knew about him was that he was a great lawyer, practically lived in his office, and nothing ever seemed to bother him.

Billy leaned forward in his chair. “Are you married, Alistair?”

“Once. My ex and I were hitched for around ten years I think. We got married around the time my law career started picking up. You?”

Billy showed him his ring, with his fingers widespread. “Just this year actually.” Alistair started examining the police report. “Do you still talk to your ex?” Asked Billy.

“Oh, no, we cut ties pretty quick after the divorce,” said Alistair.

“How come? I don’t mean to pry, if you don’t-”

“It’s okay,” Alistair said quickly. “She was the instigator in the first place. She said that I was never there for her and avoided her intentionally. Which I didn’t. I made sure, every day, that we could afford the house we lived in, the new cars we drove, the dinners we bought. Everything”

Billy tried to stop himself from raising his eyebrows and reacting. Billy thought about how different his relationship was with his wife. They were a team. They would always go to the grocery store together. It was easier for them to avoid buying unnecessary junk food when they could be each others’ health coach. They made aa agreement that once a month they would have a date night where they try out a new restaurant. Every other night they would alternate who has control of what to watch on TV. Billy couldn’t imagine being solely in charge of a relationship and trying to make it work. Did Alistair think that buying things was the base of a relationship? How could someone with such an open mind when it comes to law, be so close minded in terms of relationships?

Alistair became like a puzzling Jeopardy question to Billy. He looked at him with his eyebrows pinched, almost studiously. Alistair didn’t recognize Billy’s staring, as he was deep in the words on the page. Billy decided to dive deeper into the world of Alistair.

“So, did you love her?” Once the words left his mouth, Billy leaned back in his seat, feeling the weight of the silence pull him further down. His mind raced. Was that too abrupt? Did that sound like an attack? Am I going to see Alistair unhinge and get angry?

Alistair sat motionless for a handful of seconds. It seemed like a long time to answer that question specifically. Alistair raised his head, meeting with Billy’s eyes. “There was a time when I did,” Alistair finally responded.

Billy felt the thuds of his beating heart slowly calm down. He felt a small adrenaline rush flow throughout his body. He was fine.

“You don’t now?” Billy asked curiously.

Alistair thought for a single beat. “There’s not a day that I think about her.” His demeanor was indifferent and he went back to the police report. With his head down, Alistair said, “now help me out here. Let’s prepare.”

Over the next few hours, Billy listened to Alistair work on a defense for their client. Billy heard the words Alistair was saying but couldn’t concentrate. Alistair’s last words about his ex-wife hit Billy hard. It seemed harsh to say about someone. Especially being married to them for ten years. But Alistair kept plugging away at work. Maybe that’s why Alistair had done so well. Maybe he had mastered his own style of preparation by blocking out everything else in his life. Billy admired Alistair for his work ethic after watching him, but was not envious.

After hours of waiting and preparing for their meeting, Alistair and Billy packed up their things and headed out. They stood in front of the glass doors, separating them from outside. The rain continued to persist and the puddles accumulated. Alistair’s Mercedes sat no more than fifteen feet away.

“Carpool?” asked Alistair. Billy nodded.

“I hope you don’t mind the radio. I always listen to the news in the car.”

“Sure,” answered Billy.

The drive was quiet, other than the light sound of local news and the occasional leather fart. Billy was just thankful that they didn’t need to travel too far. They reached the prison and Billy couldn’t help but notice how comfortable Alistair was. It was definitely not his first rodeo. They walked up to the sign-in counter. A man in a suit was sitting behind the windowless frame, and an officer, no more than five-and-a-half feet, stood to his right rifling through a filing cabinet.

“We’re here to speak with Dylan Redum,” said Alistair to the man. “We’re his lawyers.”

“Dylan Redum?” said the officer, who overheard. Alistair nodded in response.

“Buzz them in,” the officer said to the man at the counter.

The door to the right of Alistair and Billy unlocked and cracked open. They walked through, meeting the officer on the other side.

“I’m Officer Penkin,” she said, shaking both of their hands. “Follow me.”

She took them down the hall and into what looked like a small break room, with nobody else inside. There was a table by the door she gestured to. Alistair and Billy both sat down. Officer Penkin walked further in, leaning against a counter top opposite the entrance. She made offerings of water and coffee, but Alistair and Billy both declined.

“This can’t be where we’re meeting him, right?” asked Billy.

“No, you won’t be meeting Mr. Redum today,” said Officer Penkin.

Alistair and Billy both looked at each other.

“We’re his representation,” said Alistair, confused and eager. “He asked for us. You can’t withhold-”

“You can’t see him because he’s dead,” Officer Penkin interrupted. “He was found about an hour ago. Looks like suicide”

Billy tensed up. His eyebrows raised and his mouth fell open, only slightly. Alistair sat next to him, quiet.

“If you ask me,” continued Officer Penkin. “I think it all got to him. Not the guilt. I think the fact that he got caught was the final nail. He couldn’t live with himself after that. He was a sick man.”

Billy didn’t know what to say, but he believed what Officer Penkin presumed. Alistair remained quiet, just listening to Officer Penkin.

Next thing Billy new, he was back in Alistair’s car driving back towards the firm. Just like before, the local radio played softly as they both looked at the road ahead of them. Billy decided to break the silence. He turned his head to Alistair. “Do you think he was guilty?” Billy said with genuine interest.

Alistair kept his eyes forward, his hands at ten and two, and his face expressionless. The sound of the rain against the windshield muffled the silence of Alistair’s pause. “If you’re going to succeed in this profession, you should stop asking that question.”

Billy slowly turned his head back towards the road and sat in silence for the remainder of the ride. Once they got back, he stepped out of the car, closed the door and watched as Alistair drove away into the cityscape. Billy’s view of Alistair was starting to form a more concrete image. He didn’t like what he saw, but more importantly, he didn’t want to follow in Alistair’s footsteps.

Billy drove home to find his wife sitting on the couch reading a book, her brown hair draped to one side. He sat down next to her. They said their hellos and she kissed him on the cheek. “Shannon, do you think I’m cut out to be a lawyer?” Billy asked.

She looked at him, concerned. “Why? Did something happen today?” Billy filled Shannon in about everything. Everything Alistair said and what happened to Dylan.

“I just don’t know if I can have Alistair’s success without acting like him,” Billy said with a tone of doubt in his voice.

“Who said you have to be like Alistair?” Shannon replied. She moved closer to Billy, running her fingers through his hair. “Look, if you don’t think you can do it, then I know you’ll find something else. But, if you think that you can help people, you should stick with it. The fact that you have morals can only help you. At least that’s what I think.”

Billy looked at her and pulled her to his chest. He knew she was right. “I love you,” he said. Right then and there he felt himself begin to separate from Alistair.