Chapter 30 THE LAWYER
\[MARCUS POV\]
Three hours have passed since we got Ethan Cross here.
After three hours, still no real results.
I’m in the viewing space, looking at him past the window. There he sits - quiet, steady. His hands rest together on the surface. No tension showing. Doesn’t shift or move much.
Just waiting.
Sarah sits beside me, flipping through case notes.
"Tell me we have something," I say.
"We have circumstantial evidence. The pen. The photos. The origami birds."
"That's not enough."
"I know."
"We need concrete proof. DNA. Fingerprints. Witnesses. Something that ties him directly to a murder."
"We're still processing the scenes. Maybe forensics will find something."
"Maybe it isn't good enough. The DA's already breathing down my neck. If we don't charge him in forty-eight hours, he walks."
Sarah lifts her eyes off the screen.
"What about his confession to Aria?"
"Hearsay. No recording. No witnesses. His lawyer will tear it apart."
"He doesn't have a lawyer yet."
"He will. Someone like him? He'll have the best."
Right then, noise kicks off down the corridor.
Loud talking. One person is having a go at the guy behind the counter.
I leave the viewing area.
A man in a pricey suit stands by the front desk - fifties, gray hair, carrying a briefcase. Not the type you hire cheap; more like half a grand per hour.
"I'm here to see my client. Ethan Cross."
The cop stares my way.
I walk over.
"And you are?"
"Robert Sinclair. Mr. Cross's attorney."
"Mr. Cross hasn't called anyone."
"He didn't need to. I was retained on his behalf."
"By who?"
"That's privileged information."
"Not if you want to see him it isn't."
Sinclair reaches into his pocket, slips out a business card - then passes it my way.
"I don't need your permission, Detective. I have a right to see my client. Now either take me to him or I'll have a judge on the phone in thirty seconds."
I check out the card.
Robert Sinclair - he’s a lawyer who fights criminal charges. His track record? Right up front - 90% success. That number stands out, doesn’t it?
This dude wins every time - never walks away empty-handed.
"Fine. Follow me."
I took him over to where we keep people.
Unlock the door.
Ethan glances up - spots Sinclair - grins right away.
"Mr. Sinclair. I was wondering when you'd arrive."
Hold on. Did he actually think he'd show up?
"Mr. Cross. I'm here to represent you. Don't say another word to anyone until we've spoken privately."
I step back.
"You've got fifteen minutes."
"I'll need an hour."
"You've got thirty."
Sinclair stays quiet. He drops his briefcase, then takes a seat opposite Ethan.
I shut the door.
Head back to the viewing area.
Sarah’s talking on her phone.
"Uh-huh. Yeah. When? Okay. Thanks."
She hangs up.
"That was the lab. The pen from Room 406. No prints. Wiped clean."
"What about the one from Ethan's desk?"
"Same. No prints."
"How is that possible?"
"Someone cleaned them. Both of them."
I push my fingers into my hair.
"What about the origami birds?"
"Paper. No prints. No DNA. No trace evidence."
"So we've got nothing."
"We've got circumstantial—"
"Circumstantial won't hold up. Not against a lawyer like Sinclair."
Sarah sets the tablet aside.
"Marcus. What if Aria's right? What if Ethan really is the killer?"
"Then we need to prove it. Fast."
"How?"
"I don't know. But we've got forty-eight hours to figure it out."
Half an hour passes, then Sinclair steps outside.
"My client would like to make a statement."
"Fine. Interview room two."
We got the gear ready. Then had Ethan take a seat. With Sinclair by his side.
I'm sitting opposite. Meanwhile, Sarah stays near the entrance.
"For the record, this is Detective Marcus Hale interviewing Ethan Cross. Also present, defense attorney Robert Sinclair and Detective Sarah Chen. Mr. Cross, you've been informed of your rights?"
"Yes."
"And you wish to make a statement?"
"I do."
"Go ahead."
Ethan leans forward.
"I didn't kill anyone."
"Then why did you confess to Detective Kane?"
"I didn't confess. She made assumptions. I was trying to calm her down. She was hysterical."
"She says you admitted to the murders."
"She's mistaken."
"Are you saying she's lying?"
Sinclair raises one hand.
"My client is saying there was a misunderstanding. Detective Kane has been under immense stress. She's emotionally involved. Her judgment is compromised."
"That doesn't explain the evidence."
“Got any proof?” Sinclair wonders.
I take out the folder.
"The pen was found in Room 406. Engraved. Matches one belonging to Mr. Cross."
"Pens can be replicated. Do you have proof that the specific pen belonged to my client?"
"We're working on it."
"So no."
"The victims appear in his social media photos."
"Public places. Coincidence. Not proof of intent."
"The origami birds match his style."
"Thousands of people know origami. Not evidence."
I'm losing this.
"Your client was found on a roof holding a hostage."
"Detective Chen has already given her statement. My client claims he was trying to stop someone else. That he was set up."
"By who?"
"James Reynolds. The journalist who's been stalking my client for weeks."
Sarah speaks up.
"James Reynolds has an alibi for Captain Ford's murder."
"Does he? Or does he have someone covering for him?"
This isn't leading anywhere.
"We have forty-eight hours to charge your client or release him," I say.
"You don't have forty-eight hours, Detective. You have nothing. No physical evidence. No witnesses. No confession. You're holding my client on suspicion and hearsay. I'll have him released by morning."
"We'll see about that."
Sinclair stands.
"Unless you plan to charge him right now, this interview is over."
I glance at Ethan.
He's smiling.
"Chat's over," I tell her.
I step outside. After me, Sarah comes along.
"He's right," she says. "We don't have enough."
"There has to be something. His apartment. His car. His office."
"We'd need a warrant."
"Then get one."
"Based on what? We need probable cause."
"We have probable cause. Aria's testimony."
"Which his lawyer will argue is biased and unreliable."
I hit the wall hard.
Sarah doesn't flinch.
"Marcus. We need more time."
"We don't have more time."
My phone rings.
Unknown number.
I answer.
"Hale."
"Detective. This is Judge Morrison's clerk. We have your warrant request for Ethan Cross's residence."
"And?"
"Denied. Insufficient probable cause."
"What?"
"Judge reviewed the affidavit. Says it's based on hearsay and speculation. Recommends you find concrete evidence before reapplying."
"We need that warrant to find concrete evidence."
"I'm sorry, Detective. That's the ruling."
She hangs up.
I glance over at Sarah.
"Warrant denied."
"Then what do we do?"
"I don't know."