Chapter 39: The Unwanted Case
Judge Raymond Von Reinhold III, put on his robes and left his chamber with a heavy heart. Lately life was depressing. He had to deal with case after case of individuals who were accused of being changelings or as many would put it “alien scum”. Ultimately there was little or no evidence against many of the accused to justify a court case let alone a guilty verdict. He knew however that if he was to flinch and not find any one suspect guilty, he would come under intense scrutiny and possibly even find himself in their position.
The judge made his way down a wide corridor to the court room itself. The court room when he entered was half full. Many of them were journalists and photographers who were hoping a celebrity might make an appearance or something else of a controversial nature might occur. Even relatives and friends of the suspects rarely made an appearance for fear of also finding themselves in the same predicament.
“Ok,” the judge said aloud, “what is the first case of the day?”
“Todd Jacobson vs The United States of America,” Ed Felson from the District Attorney’s office declared.
The Judge took a good look at the accused. He was rather dishevelled and had not shaved in a while. He also looked extremely tired as if he wanted his predicament to end, whether that was by execution or a miraculous bid for freedom.
“And what is the charge?”
“Mr Jacobson, if I can call him that is accused of being a changeling your honour.”
“How do you plead Mr Jacobson?” the Judge asked as if it was a question he had asked a million times before.
“I don’t understand your honour,” Todd responded. Even he had not been bothered to see many episodes of Perry Mason in his youth.
“Have you a lawyer who can explain what it is I mean?” the judge asked in a somewhat perplexed manner.
“No sir. I can’t afford one. Even if I could I don’t think they would want to represent me.”
How true, the judge thought to himself.
“He pleads innocent,” your honour. A young woman with dishevelled fair hair and without make-up came forward. She couldn’t have been more than thirty years old but in her appearance she looked much older.
“And are you a lawyer?”
“No, your honour, but I can vouch for Todd.”
“Well, you have no right to be up here. Please sit down. Would anybody else wish to represent Mr Jacobson?” the Judge asked looking around the courtroom. As he asked this, a well-dressed young woman entered the courtroom.
“I do your honour,” Melanie Chowdar exclaimed.
“And are you a lawyer?” the judge asked.
“Yes I am,” she declared as she walked towards the front of the courtroom.
“Does this woman represent you, Mr Jacobson?” the judge asked in a slightly irritated manner.
“No your honour,” Todd responded as if he had received an unwanted present.
“Well then,” the Judge replied. “you have no right to be here either, Miss eh..”
“Chowdar, Melanie Chowdar. I would like a moment to talk with my client.”
“Very well,” Judge Von Reinhold declared, “We have got all day.”
“I don’t want you here,” Todd replied as Melanie approached.
“Look here, Todd Jacobson, I have risked everything for you. I have walked out on my job, I have gone against my family and I have cancelled my wedding. If you are going to tell me that after all of that you won’t let me represent you, I’ll throttle you. You’re not going down without a fight whether you like it or not”
Todd felt embarrassed. He didn’t want to upset Melanie and it seemed the only way he could do that was by letting her represent him.
“Ok,” he said meekly.
“Do we have an agreement?” the judge asked.
“Yes your honour, we do.” Melanie replied
“Guilty or not guilty?”
“Not guilty, I guess,” Todd replied.
“Ok. Are we ready to start proceedings?” the Judge asked.
“Your honour I have only just been asked to represent my client. I will need at least two weeks to gather the information together to represent my client.”
“Very well then, Miss Chowdar, you have three weeks. I will see you here on the 25th.”
There was no bail option available to Todd for a case such as this.
Melanie was conflicted. She was relieved at the extra time provided to her to prepare her case but was intimidated by the task in hand.
The following day Melanie Chowdar found herself in Zach Simms office once again. She preferred to see him in person because she was afraid that he would not want to take the case. She didn’t know what was more terrifying; experiencing Mr Simms office once again or asking him to take a risk by representing Todd.
The office was in a worse state than it had been previously, but Mr Simms wasn’t on the phone. He wasn’t drinking or smoking. Instead he was sleeping. Melanie didn’t know whether she should prod him, in order to get his attention. Initially she sat in front of him and called out his name louder and louder. After the fourth occasion she decided that action was needed. She picked up a half empty glass of whiskey and threw it at him.
Mr Simms started to wake up.
“God lady, your like my third missus. I thought she was the only one in the world who would do something like that. What did I do to deserve you?”
“I need your help,” Melanie said indignantly. She decided that if she appeared obstinate, she would have a greater chance of success.
“Well, there are better ways of going about it lady.”
Melanie tried desperately not to breath in the stale smell of the Detective’s office through her nostrils. She didn’t want to think too much what it might of consisted of. There could have been a dead rodent or two lurking under the Private Investigators mound of disorganised papers and mostly empty takeaway boxes. On the bright side, at least if there was a rodent underneath the rubble, it was probably dead.
“I have a client who is on trial for being a changeling.”
“Woe, got to stop you right there,” the Detective said aloud as he held his hand up as if to protest.
“Why?” Melanie asked somewhat sheepishly as if she had expected that reaction.
“Everybody knows you don’t get involved with them kind,” the Detective declared dismissively as he searched his drawers for another bottle of whiskey . “Quality of life over. No money, no booze, no cigarettes, no broads, no nothing and possibly the electric chair. You would do well to tell your client to take a run and jump.”
“But he’s innocent,” Melanie protested in desperation.
“Everybody’s innocent lady. Have you ever heard of a changeling who got off?”
“He’s not a changeling.”
“You’re missing the point.” Simms responded as he located and picked up a bottle of whiskey. “The case is done and dusted before you start. His life doesn’t count for peanuts anymore. You’d better walk away before you’re on trial too.”
“I thought that you would be different,” Melanie responded as if she was appealing to his conscience.
“How is that? Was it my suave sophisticated demeanour? Lady grow up. Life ain’t fair,” the Detective responded in a cold, unsentimental manner. “Learn to look after number one, just like me. We’re all the same Lady. Nobody will take your case. You could go to a thousand private eyes. It’s just a waste of time. Chances are anyway that you’ll lose your job and wouldn’t be able to pay me. I wouldn’t like that at all. No money, no whiskey. Now if you don’t mind I had a rough night.”
Melanie stood up from her seat and walked out of the office in a downbeat manner. What am I getting myself into she thought to herself. Private eye or no Private eye she was facing a losing battle. The out of work lawyer attempted to contact eleven more Private Investigators that day. Zach Simms was easily the most polite as it turned out.
It was 4:10pm in the afternoon later that day when Melanie felt so dejected that she went to the nearest bar she came across to order a drink and get away from it all. “What will it be lady?” the bartender asked.
“An orange juice with ice please.”
“An orange juice?” the barman said aloud to himself clearly frustrated that his customer was by no means a big spender or hard drinking woman. The truth was that Melanie didn’t drink very much and just wanted to relax for a moment or two. She didn’t want to experience more rejection, or her frustrated parents trying to argue their case. All she wanted was peace and quiet.
“Pardon me, Miss but you look like you could do with a large whiskey,” a white haired man with a beard said as he looked at her across the bar.
“That’s the nicest thing anybody’s said to me all day,” Melanie replied.
“The name’s Aaron. I used to be a police officer. Since my marriage broke up I’ve been doing a bit of investigative work here and there. If you know anyone who needs a private eye you can point them in my direction.”
“Yes,” the bartender replied sarcastically, “Aaron’s here twenty four seven. He’s my best customer. No Orange juice for him.”
“I am in the market for a Private Detective,” Melanie replied. “but you wouldn’t be interested.” The man seemed too nice to be dragged into Melanie’s current predicament. He also looked to be elderly and Melanie believed that the stress associated with the case would probably be too much for him.
“Try me,” the old man replied in a relatively enthusiastic manner.
“A guy I know has been jailed. They’re putting him on trial as a Changeling. I spent the whole day looking for someone to help me and that’s why I’m sitting here in this bar. I just need a break from it all.”
“And I figured you for a smart lady,” the bartender quipped. “Don’t get involved if you don’t have to.”
“Tell me something about your case and I will see if I can help you.”
For the first time all day Melanie had a ray of hope. She had finally found someone willing to listen to her. It was a good start.
“Todd used to be homeless. I found him on the street and gave him a chance. He turned his life around. He hasn’t had a drop in months. He was working in a homeless centre when he was picked up and thrown in jail.”
“What is the evidence against him?”
“It’s all lies. People coming forward to make up stories about him, that’s all.”
“Can you be more specific?”
Melanie could see that Aaron was still interested and asking questions where others would fear to thread.
“One man, claims to have seen him change form. He went to school with him about thirty or forty years ago. He says they were in the locker changing after a game and he noticed Todd turning into a reptilian form. He says that Todd threatened him not to say anything.”
“And the others?”
“A police officer says he was chasing Todd down the street and he changed form and merged into a crowd so that the policeman would be able to catch him. There is one other.”
“Who?” Aaron asked out of curiosity
Melanie wasn’t sure if this final piece of information would be enough to turn the former police officer off. So far there was no glazed over expression or a rolling of the eyes. Instead he made eye contact and appeared to be genuine. It was as if he cared.
“His estranged sister,” the young lawyer continued. “She claims that Todd was not related to her by blood and that it was most likely a mix-up at the hospital. She claims that she always knew Todd was different and noticed it on several occasions.”
“Surely all you need is a DNA test,” Aaron replied.
“You try and get a DNA expert to run a test and get him or her to testify in court in defence of a guy accused of being a changeling. It won’t happen.”
“You probably thought the same about finding a private detective and this guy Todd probably thought the same about finding a good lawyer too.”
“So, you know someone who can help us?” Melanie asked with rekindled optimism.
“No,” Aaron responded. “but we can find one.”
As they spoke the bartender was listening in and drying some glasses as he did so. He seemed unimpressed by the conversation. Most of the other clientele were probably too drunk to pay full attention.
“You say ‘we’,” Melanie responded, “does that mean you will help us?”
“I can’t promise you anything, but yes. I will give it a try.”
“You’re mad Mr Hastings,” the barman interrupted, “no offence, but why would either of you want to throw away your lives for a drunk.”
“He’s no longer a drunk,” Melanie replied, “but maybe doing one right, positive thing is better than doing a thousand mundane things. Putting your heart into it even though you suspect you’re going to get kicked in the teeth is much better than leading a soul-less existence.”
“Sounds like bullshit to me,” the barman replied. “You should probably write for Disney. It would probably pay better than being a pro bono lawyer.”
“Perhaps this isn’t the best place to talk,” Aaron replied before removing a card from his wallet and handing it to her. “My number and details are on the card.”
“Do you want another orange juice, Lady?” the barman asked.
“No thanks, I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I’d better go home and cook something up.” There was a hint of a smile forming on her face.
“We do serve food here if you like,” the man behind the bar suggested.
“Thanks but no thanks.” Melanie preferred to eat at home. She was never disappointed that way.
“A real big spender, eh?” the barman noted sarcastically.
“When is the best time to call you?” she asked the old man.
“You can call me around eight tonight.”
“Perfect,” Melanie responded with a now fully formed smile on her face.
“He mightn’t feel the same way when he sobers up lady,” the barman advised. “I’ve seen him do a lot of crazy shit when he’s drunk but this beats them all hands down.”
“Thank you Mr Hastings,” Melanie said before leaving the bar and heading outside, “You’ve been a real help.”
Later the same day, after Melanie Chowdar had finished her dinner and tidied up, she checked her watch. It was 7:15pm. She spent the next forty minutes scanning the internet for information on the key witnesses in Todd’s trial. She could find very little of relevance. Then she looked at the card in her hand and searched the name of Aaron Hastings. She discovered that he was a respected ex police officer with an excellent track record. He had won several minor awards for his years of service. She discovered that his son had been killed two years ago. His son was clearly viewed as a hero and had won awards for his bravery in the field.
At 8pm Melanie picked up the phone and dialled the Private Detective.
“Yes?” came the voice at the end of the line.
“Hi Aaron, it’s me Melanie, the girl you spoke to at the bar.”
Part of Melanie was apprehensive. She wondered if the old man would be interested in the case when he was fully sober. Maybe he would have forgotten about their conversation altogether.
“Yes I know.” He sounded as if he might be suffering from a semblance of a hangover. “Do you have an address I can meet you at?”
“23 Sycamore Road, Santa Maria District.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” the old man replied with conviction.
Melanie hadn’t even discussed a fee. She was running low on funds as it was. It appeared inevitable that she would have to cash in her pension plan small as it was. The young woman wondered whether resistance was futile in any case. Was she only delaying the inevitable and getting herself into hot water as a result? It was after all what most streetwise people had been telling her up to now. She had her doubts but something inside her pushed her to persevere. She didn’t want to be streetwise she just wanted to do the right thing.
It didn’t take long for the doorbell to ring. Almost as soon as he had entered Aaron put his finger to his lips. “This is a nice apartment you’ve got here,” he said aloud as he gestured for Melanie to give him her handbag.
“Yes,” Melanie answered on the understanding that he was looking for listening devices. “we only moved in a few months ago.”
The Private detective reached for her mobile phone and opened it up. He looked at it carefully and removed a slender piece of wire, no more than two centimetres in length that was almost invisible to the naked eye. He reassembled the phone and placed it back in the bag. He then examined a set of keys in Melanie’s hand bag. Once again he detached some rather small device and gave the handbag back to Melanie. He placed both of the miniscule devices on a coffee table nearby.
“Have you taken any holidays this year?” he asked as he removed a device from his clothing and used it to scan for more devices.
“No, myself and Max had been saving for the wedding.”
“Where is Max now?” Aaron asked as he removed a device from one of the lights in the sitting room. Again he placed it on the table.
“Max and I split up over this whole issue. He was against Todd from the start.”
In total, the Private Detective removed a further three devices from the bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. He placed them all together on the table and grabbed a full glass of water from the kitchen table. Aaron started talking normally again once they were all submersed in the water.
“There is a grey van outside, parked at the end of the street,” Aaron said, moving to the window and partially moving the blinds, “my guess is that the guys who planted the devices are in that van.”
“Should we call the cops?” she asked in a concerned manner.
“Melanie,” he responded solemnly. “they are the cops.”
Melanie’s blood ran cold as she realised she was in deeper trouble than she thought. At least she now had one person who was clearly on her side.
“Ok, I’m going to need all the information you have on the three witnesses. I’ll need names, addresses, dates of birth, pictures, anything you’ve got.”
Melanie showed the Private Detective all the information she had on the court case and they both spent more than two hours going through it. Even Melanie felt bad about involving Aaron in the case. With each passing second she seemed to appreciate the enormity of what she was up against and it frightened her. The only consolation was having found one person she could trust and who was willing to help her.