Chapter 37

“Order! Order!” the judge named Rodney shouted, his glasses almost falling off the bridge of his nose as he pounded his wooden gavel furiously on the sounding block. Everyone paid him no heed; all were too engrossed with the screaming, shouting, and wrestling that came from the center of the court. The place had become a circus.

“ORDER!!!!!” The ultimate yell from the ageing judge finally brought an end to the chaos and a hushed silence fell across the courtroom. It became so deathly quiet one could even hear a pin drop.

“Now,” the judge pushed his rimless spectacle back up, his eyes darting back and forth between Anson and Amber. “Can I have the representatives for these two come up to the bench?”

Amber’s defense attorney blinked, still very much in shock over what had just happened and knocked over his chair as he clumsily made his way to the judge’s bench. “I…uh, I represent Amber Banks, your Honor.”

At the defendant’s table, Amber slumped back onto her chair in defeat. Her head fell and her fiery red ponytail slid over her shoulder.

Anson was still panting, bent over with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. His mind reeled from the fact that he had barged into the courtroom without a concrete plan. He shot a frantic look at Fabian who paid him no heed. Instead, Fabian calmly straightened his own tie and brushed off invisible dust from his sleeves. The man had not said anything about an attorney during the ride to the courtroom. Anson thought that all he had to do was to confess and everything would be over. He frowned, what was he to do now?

“Your Honor,” a strong female voice called out from the entrance of the courtroom and all eyes fixated on her immediately. In walked Joan Dare, the very attorney Amber had turned down from days before.

“I represent Anson Banks,” she said simply, giving Fabian a slight nod before walking straight to the judge’s bench. Unbeknownst to everyone, Fabian had given his attorney a call right before they came rushing over. He had decided that if he were to save both the Banks siblings, he would need the Midas touch of the state’s best attorney.

***

An hour later saw both Anson and Amber sitting at the defendant’s bench as they avoided eye contact with one another. The siblings, along with everyone else in the room were all waiting for the judge, plaintiff, and defense attorneys to emerge from the discussion room. During the wait, Amber sweated so much so that part of her jumper was now dark and damp. She had been battling with spasms of nauseating cramps over the past hour and each time the pain came, they would become more vicious than the one that attacked her before.

From the public’s bench, Fabian leaned forward with his palms on the bench’s railing. Worry played on his face and his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Amber. Something wasn’t right, she was sitting in a hunched position, something she never did in all the time he had known her.

At the defendant's table, Anson finally took a peek at his sister, his fingers digging into his palm.

“I’m sorry Amber,” he whispered.

She looked up from the table to meet his eyes and saw the pain in them; pain that mirrored her own.

“I’m sorry too,” she replied, her hands fisting as she sunk her teeth into her lips.

Her brother took a good look at her, “Say, you don’t look so good.”

Amber forced a smile and sat straighter, “Prison does that to you. Sure, you still want to give prison life a go?”

Anson looked down at his knees and rubbed his open palms on them before letting out a little chuckle, “Never been more eager.”

“Anson, please reconsider—” Before Amber could continue, another wave of agonizing sting claimed her, sending a tremor throughout her body.

Her brother frowned, “Amber?”

“I’m fine…” she gasped, swallowing hard. She was not fine, it felt like her body was going to split into two!

“Just something I ate in the cell,” she muttered and closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to subside. A bead of sweat dripped onto her jumpsuit, creating a wet patch on the scratchy orange fabric.

Anson never did have the time to press his sister for the truth for right there and then, the door to the discussion room opened and the judge emerged, his black robe flowing behind him as he made his way up to the bench.

Young bailiff John Deere immediately walked over to the judge as all three attorneys made their way back to their desks, each with solemn looks on their faces. Fabian folded his arms and leaned back on the bench as he watched the bailiff’s head bobbing up and down to everything the judge whispered to him. Next to him, John Grant started to yawn, only to receive an annoyed look from Fabian. The detective smiled sheepishly at the CEO whose eyes shot lasers at him and raised a hand signaling an apology.

“All rise! The course is now back in session.”

The trial started again, but this time, instead of Amber Banks standing trial for the murder of Liam Smith, her brother also stood trial with her.

The prosecutor stood up and cleared his throat. He was not liking how things had unfolded. What had initially seemed like a ‘sure-win’ case for him had spiraled into an intricate web, one which he doubted he would triumph over—especially not when Joan Dare, the state’s best lawyer was involved. The lady had never lost a case before. How he wished that Amber’s attorney had not agreed to take a backseat and let the iron lady take charge of their case.

The prosecutor faced the judge and jury of twelve, “Your Honor and ladies and gentlemen of the jury; the defendant Amber Banks has been charged with the crime of murdering Liam Smith, CEO of Smithsonian Holdings. The evidence will show that a stun gun was used as a murder weapon on the night of the murder. The first defendant, Amber Banks was arrested on the spot. The defendant’s fingerprints were on the stun gun used for the murder. The evidence I present will prove to you that the defendant is guilty as charged and was aided by her brother, the second defendant Anson Banks.”

Joan Dare scoffed a little and started her plea, “Your Honor and ladies and gentlemen of the jury; under the law, my client is presumed innocent until proven guilty. During this trial, you will hear no real evidence against my client. You will come to know the truth: that the first defendant Amber Banks was at the crime scene but was not involved in the murder of Liam Smith and that the second defendant, Anson Banks merely acted out in defense. Therefore, my clients are not guilty.”

Anson was called to the witness stand next and as he got up on his feet, Amber raised her head slowly to meet his eyes, her face ashen with hurt. Anson’s breath caught in his throat as he mouthed the words, “It’s okay.” He averted his gaze right after, not wanting her to see the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

Quickly, he wiped at his eyes and took place at the stand facing a terrain of unfamiliar faces in the courtroom only to let out a shaky breath. His hands curled into a fist as a surge of emotions flooded him. This was hard, much harder than he thought it would be, but this was something he had to do.

A clerk with slicked-back hair came up to him, holding out a bible, “Raise your right hand. Do you promise that the testimony you shall give in the case before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

For a moment, nothing came out of Anson Bank’s mouth as the gravity of the words sank in on him. He let out a heavy sigh and swallowed.

Yes, it’s time to tell the truth.

“I do.”

And when the attorney finally questioned him, Anson Banks relayed his tale and relived his nightmare, shocking the nation with a story of his descent into darkness.