IT was around 5pm at the National Forensics in Kingston City. The afternoon heat was dropping low and sea breezes were pouring to land.
Peter had been waiting there at the audio unit, waiting for a result that never seemed to arrive. A cool air had poured on him and he’d quietly drifted to sleep.
He bowed his head on arms crossed over his knees and felt he was still quite alert and present. But he was far gone and had stayed that way for about an hour.
Lawyer Pedro had been into the psychomicide case from the start than anybody had been involved in it. He’d taken the fight more personal than even June Simeon.
Yes, it was “June Simeon” that he was fighting for, bleeding all his sweat this way. It was the smart young woman whose rare intelligence had lit him all up to dream...
It was June he would fight to rescue.
This long day was a special one for Peter Pedro, and only for three reasons.
First, it was his birthday – he had just turned 33. So he had woken up a happy man.
Second was the fact that he shared the birthday with his star crush of childhood days. June was born this same day, and turned 29.
So Peter had faced this Monday happier.
But then, the lawyer couldn’t find time to mark his birthday. He’d got a work habit that made him obsess with court cases...
So he hadn’t got to start a family and couldn’t celebrate joys at home.
Yet that Monday he’d got this evidence to win June’s case. It was his third reason to be happy. So he had gone to court as the happiest man there.
Now this was evening, and Peter was tired. And then he woke up to hear somebody call his name.
“Mr. Peter... Mr. Peter, are you sleeping?”
He looked up to see one of his teammates hurrying up to him, looking like he’d got some news.
Peter looked up at him. “Is there any problem?”
“Yes,” replied the gentleman – “we’ve got a real problem. I heard Cannon is on the move again!”
Peter jumped to his feet at once. “Tell me, please!”
The news dropped.
“I got a tip from one of the staff here that Cannon is intercepting our plans.
“That they called the director here about our evidence and they’ve transferred the thing to him.
“I’m just hearing about it now. But they said it’s been moved to desk since 4 o’clock.”
Peter looked at his wristwatch, and saw that he’d slept for about an hour. The last time he checked the time was before 4, when he’d started to feel sleepy.
He didn’t know then that he’d trip off at the most crucial time.
Now the young man with the news didn’t stop talking.
“I heard the director promised to protect the Cannon suspect.
“My person among the staff here said that the director made a deal with Cannon over the phone.
“He told me these were his words: ‘The big name will not be affected!’
“That is the thing he promised those lecturers when they called.
“Gosh, these people will go any length to keep their honor! So what do we do now?”
That moment was tense for Peter Pedro, as his heart raced with a hundred thoughts.
He’d got doubts and questions and worries. And so more in that little moment he’d got to think.
He looked around and realized that people had already been moving in and out of the studio room. The place he’d been keeping watch over.
It was the first sign that the news was true.
Now he walked up to someone heading out of the room.
“Please, are they done? I mean the audio unit. Are they done now with our case from court?”
“Oh, are you one of Pendulum’s?”
“Yes, I am. I’m the plaintiff’s lead counsel.”
“I see...! But I’m sorry, work isn’t done yet. It has been transferred to our director.”
“Oh…! But d’ you know why that is? Why was it moved over to—?”
The man interposed him. “Your case is a big one, sir! It’s a big and powerful case. So it has to be the director who does the thing.”
Peter was dazed at the point.
“A big and powerful case!” he mused aloud.
Now he was hoping the man would say the director took it over when work closed at 4. But there he went confirming the new tip he’d just heard.
The law fellow didn’t know what to do. He just thanked the man for helping, gave his teammate a pat on the back…
And then he walked out of there.
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