Post by gumOnShoe on Oct 18, 2005 19:01:14 GMT -5
2 years work has gone into this piece. Hope you enjoy... I may turn it into a novel some day:
The Void
by Brian Kirklin
copyright 2005
Fear is a state few people actually experience. Every now and then a person will feel its more minor effects. Nothing more than the feeling that someone is behind you, that image in the corner of your eye. It comes un-beckoned, like the shadow on the wall, the scratch on the window, the dark figure at the end of the corridor, and the grasping dark from deep within the closet. But true fear can come only from the realization that one is on the brink of everything and nothing can be done.
It was years ago that I experienced fear, and not the kind that you hear about everyday. Looking back its odd to remember how gray that day was. The clouds blended perfectly in with the gray river which I could see from my window. I used to work up on the thirtieth floor for a rather prestigious law firm. The back wall was simply glass, commanding a view of the city and the river, normally a sight of grandeur; it provided nothing more than a grayscale devoid of emotion. I could feel the chill air of autumn sucking the heat from my office through the window, stealing my warmth.
I had been working on a case now for months, one that had the potential to earn myself a name in the business. I was going to defend a serial killer and get him off death row. There was enough evidence to prove him innocent and he was on his last appeal. Nothing had hit the news yet, it was better that way. Leave things undisturbed until the only way for things to play out is in your favor. At least that is what I had told myself. Something wasn’t right though, and it was bothering me. Normally when digging for information on an older case things turn up relatively easily, but this time it was different. Entire case files were missing, including the one that was supposed to have been kept by the lawyer who had represented him during his original trial.
At that moment I had been focusing on a rather beat up legal pad of paper, searching my thoughts for the best plan of action. Lunch was approaching and I had plans to meet with the original lawyer. He had practically been my mentor when I had arrived at the firm, and I had been shocked that he had misplaced such a file. It bothered me deeply. He had always been meticulous in every aspect of his work, calculating every move, every line uttered from his mouth. After contacting him, he had agreed to meet me and discuss the details of the case to the best of his knowledge.
A few minutes more of waiting was all I had to suffer. We were planning on heading towards a café near the river. Mr. Clarsnell, that was his name, was one for punctuality. I knew I wouldn’t have to wait all that long, but it didn’t make the time pass any faster. Pushing the legal pad away in frustration I noticed my answering machine flashing. Checking the caller id I decided to ignore the call. It was the mother of the victim. I had of course followed up with her hoping for some more information. She, however, like most grieving mothers had developed a hatred that would not allow her to believe anyone else had done it. Since then, I had managed to ignore all her calls but one.
“Hello, is this Mr. Larson?” she had said.
“Yes, it is Mr. Larson, how can I help you?”
“Would you… would,” her voice had started to break from the emotion behind it and I could tell that she was crying. “W…would you p-please stop—”
I cut her off there because I knew where it was going. “I’m sorry for your loss, I truly am, but I will not see an innocent man die. Your son’s killer is still out there.” I knew she was going to continue so I hung up the phone instead. She was letting her emotions get the best of her and I wasn’t going to have her in the back of my mind. Just as I had hung up, I deleted the message on my answering machine.
Putting down my pen in frustration, I got up and moved towards the window. I rested my hand on the cool glass and then turned around as I heard a knock at my door. I crossed the gray carpet to answer the door, knowing full well who was behind it. Only one person knocked on my door like that. Mr. Carsnell stood in the door way with a smile on his face. He immediately reached for my hand and shook it vigorously.
“How are you old friend?” he said as I surveyed him. His gray hair was just the same as the last time I had seen him, parted to one side. As usual, he wore the usual deep black suit and red tie that seemed to be a part of him.
“Holding together,” I said eyeing the newspaper he was carrying.
“Aren’t we all?” was his reply.
“Catching up on current events?” I inquired motioning towards the paper.
“No, just some light reading,” he replied quickly folding it up and placing it under his left arm while bouncing on his heels, “recent murders and all of that jazz.” A smile crossed his face as if he had told a funny joke.
“Sounds interesting, want to go to lunch then? I’ve already called a cab.”
“Very well.”
On the way down to the restaurant we caught up with each other. I didn’t want to start questioning him yet. It had been a long time since we had talked, and I was enjoying it thoroughly. The restaurant sat a few blocks away from the river. I generally enjoyed the food there for lunch. I ordered my usual sandwich and Mr. Carsnell ordered the same. We continued to talk until I had exhausted all other possible lines of conversation. I wasn’t looking forward to asking my mentor what had happened.
“It’s good to see you are still up on top,” I said while playing with my food.
“We don’t stay on top forever.”
“No, but I need to ask you something.”
“Ask away, I knew this wasn’t just to catch up on old times.”
“Well, that old murder case where you defended the serial killer. I’ve been looking into it. I’ve come across a lead that makes me believe the man was innocent.”
“Really? When I took the case it seemed a hopeless cause. I really didn’t think I had a chance of winning it.”
“Well, what I was really wandering is what happened to the case file. I tried finding it, but all records seem to have been lost. It’s not like you to lose something.”
“Lost, no not lost. Probably just misplaced or shoved in the wrong spot.” I couldn’t believe that myself. I knew that the system had the potential to lose things, yet in a law firm such as ours, nothing had ever been lost. If it couldn’t be found there was a reason for it.
“Well then can you fill me in on some of the details that you remember?” I asked.
“Larson, my memory isn’t what it used to be. It’s probably just better if you let this drop. I’m sure that the man was guilty.”
“You never took a case you couldn’t win.”
“Look Larson, there are some things that are forgotten for a reason. If I could help you I would, but trust me. It’s better if you let this go. For old time’s sake, what do you say?”
“I don’t think I can do that. What are you hiding?” I stared out the nearby window towards the street. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The mother of the victim was looking right back at me. She had followed me. “I think I should be going.”
“Larson, let it go,” he said. “Don’t get yourself get caught up in all of this. That man did it.”
“I have to leave, its not you. See the woman across the street.” I pointed her out. “That is the mother of one of the victims. Ever since I contacted her she had been following me. I have to go.”
“Rethink your decision. Larson, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I’m going to find out what happened.”
“Rethink it; we will talk latter, Ok?”
I never answered him. I just walked out the door and left him to pay the check. Luckily she had disappeared before I left the restaurant. I decided I would walk back. The buildings grew larger around me and the sky darker as I went deeper into the city. I felt something touch my cheek. A light drizzle had begun to splatter the ground. I pulled my coat tighter to help keep myself warm. It was only a few blocks to my building.
When I closed the glass door behind me the sky let loose and it began to pour. I walked across the lobby to the elevator and pushed the up button. The elevator rumbled down and as I walked between the metal doors the woman came inside. She saw me and tried to wave me down. I could tell there was something she wanted to tell me, something she considered important, but I wasn’t going to hear it.
I hastily pushed the close-door button, followed by thirty. The door slid shut moments before she reached it. As I leaned back against the false wood panels, the elevator began its slow ascent.
It hit me while I was alone that Carsnell’s last remark was more of a threat than a warning. I couldn’t understand why he had been so abrasive. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense either that that mother was following me. When the doors opened I went back to my office and sat at my desk. I stared outside at the now dark sky and watched the rain tumble down towards the road for hours.
Turning around I saw that the newspaper from today had been placed on my desk by my secretary while I had been out. It was a copy of the same one that Carsnell had been reading. The murder he had been reading about had made front page. I read through it and there was something strikingly similar to something else I had read. I fumbled through my papers, searching for an old record. The details of the crime were practically the same as the one that my new client had been charged for the murder of. According to the paper there had been a witness to the latest crime. The suspect had been wearing a dark trench coat and his hair was gray. Other than that the witness had not been able to make out any details.
A thought flashed through my mind, but I shoved it back it was too ridiculous. I continued to read the paper, as there were more articles. All of them were about different murders and a few of them had witnesses that described a confident man with gray hair. Fear clenched at my heart restricting my breathing.
This couldn’t be. I remember thinking to myself. It doesn’t make sense.
But I couldn’t drive the thought out of my head. He had threatened me, told me to stay out of it. I thought about calling the police, letting them know what I had come across. But they wouldn’t see the connection that I saw, and they certainly wouldn’t believe that Carsnell, the great criminal defense attorney, had committed murder, or at least had a hand in it. I could barely convince myself.
I would have to get more evidence but everything was gone, all the old records. A man had been convicted of the crime. There was absolutely nothing I could do and I knew it. Carsnell had been his usual calculating self. He planned out everything. And I had just stumbled onto some loose ends.
I looked at a clock. It was well after seven. Where had the time gone? Nobody would be in the office. Just as I was getting ready to get my coat and leave, my door opened. Carsnell stepped inside. A spasm crossed my face and I saw that he noticed.
“What is wrong?” he said in a cold voice without the slightest glimmer of surprise on his features.
I picked up the paper and tossed it at his feet. Anger surged inside me that I had never felt before. I had trusted this man more than anyone else I had ever met.
“I told you to leave it alone. I told you it would be for your own good.”
I had to leave, I had to run. I had to escape before I became another victim. My palms were sweating vigorously and I must have gone pale.
“You know I can’t let you leave now,” he had said in the same casually cold voice. Reaching into his pocket with a gloved hand he pulled out a gun with a silencer attached to the end.
“You won’t get away,” was the last thing I said to him.
“Yes I will, and then that mother will be found with a bullet in her head and this gun in her hand. It will all be over.”
I made my break for it as the glass shattered behind me. The wind, rain and all my papers whipped about me for a split second before the second bullet brought me to a halt. For a second I stared at him, and then I fell through the void where once was my window.
It chanced that three stories down a ledge had saved my life. It paralyzed me and broke my bones. They found me, but I never healed completely. I was almost a vegetable. They came in everyday, the men in the white coats and women in white coats. They told me a bunch of facts and figures. Every now and then someone would come in and tell me about the investigation into my accident, how they suspected the women who had done nothing. Not that long ago he came though. He came and he rested his hand upon the cords that kept me alive as if to wrench them out from where they were.
“They say you could recover soon. I can’t have that. No lose ends, can’t have my past catch up with me. I will be leaving, and you won’t be stopping me.”
I realized that this could be the end. That an innocent man was going to die, and that I was going to be another victim. Everything made a quick flash through my mind and I wanted to scream, but could make no sound as his eyes bored a whole into my head. Before he could finish the deed a nurse walked into the room and he hid his hand from me.
I finished talking to the policemen who had, just hours ago, let him pass them in the hallway. They had wished him a good day, and he had left. The drugs the doctors had sedated me with to keep comfortable during the new procedure had worn off soon after. The police had of course immediately called in a report, but they were told that a Mr. Carsnell had left the country and would not be back.
The Void
by Brian Kirklin
copyright 2005
Fear is a state few people actually experience. Every now and then a person will feel its more minor effects. Nothing more than the feeling that someone is behind you, that image in the corner of your eye. It comes un-beckoned, like the shadow on the wall, the scratch on the window, the dark figure at the end of the corridor, and the grasping dark from deep within the closet. But true fear can come only from the realization that one is on the brink of everything and nothing can be done.
It was years ago that I experienced fear, and not the kind that you hear about everyday. Looking back its odd to remember how gray that day was. The clouds blended perfectly in with the gray river which I could see from my window. I used to work up on the thirtieth floor for a rather prestigious law firm. The back wall was simply glass, commanding a view of the city and the river, normally a sight of grandeur; it provided nothing more than a grayscale devoid of emotion. I could feel the chill air of autumn sucking the heat from my office through the window, stealing my warmth.
I had been working on a case now for months, one that had the potential to earn myself a name in the business. I was going to defend a serial killer and get him off death row. There was enough evidence to prove him innocent and he was on his last appeal. Nothing had hit the news yet, it was better that way. Leave things undisturbed until the only way for things to play out is in your favor. At least that is what I had told myself. Something wasn’t right though, and it was bothering me. Normally when digging for information on an older case things turn up relatively easily, but this time it was different. Entire case files were missing, including the one that was supposed to have been kept by the lawyer who had represented him during his original trial.
At that moment I had been focusing on a rather beat up legal pad of paper, searching my thoughts for the best plan of action. Lunch was approaching and I had plans to meet with the original lawyer. He had practically been my mentor when I had arrived at the firm, and I had been shocked that he had misplaced such a file. It bothered me deeply. He had always been meticulous in every aspect of his work, calculating every move, every line uttered from his mouth. After contacting him, he had agreed to meet me and discuss the details of the case to the best of his knowledge.
A few minutes more of waiting was all I had to suffer. We were planning on heading towards a café near the river. Mr. Clarsnell, that was his name, was one for punctuality. I knew I wouldn’t have to wait all that long, but it didn’t make the time pass any faster. Pushing the legal pad away in frustration I noticed my answering machine flashing. Checking the caller id I decided to ignore the call. It was the mother of the victim. I had of course followed up with her hoping for some more information. She, however, like most grieving mothers had developed a hatred that would not allow her to believe anyone else had done it. Since then, I had managed to ignore all her calls but one.
“Hello, is this Mr. Larson?” she had said.
“Yes, it is Mr. Larson, how can I help you?”
“Would you… would,” her voice had started to break from the emotion behind it and I could tell that she was crying. “W…would you p-please stop—”
I cut her off there because I knew where it was going. “I’m sorry for your loss, I truly am, but I will not see an innocent man die. Your son’s killer is still out there.” I knew she was going to continue so I hung up the phone instead. She was letting her emotions get the best of her and I wasn’t going to have her in the back of my mind. Just as I had hung up, I deleted the message on my answering machine.
Putting down my pen in frustration, I got up and moved towards the window. I rested my hand on the cool glass and then turned around as I heard a knock at my door. I crossed the gray carpet to answer the door, knowing full well who was behind it. Only one person knocked on my door like that. Mr. Carsnell stood in the door way with a smile on his face. He immediately reached for my hand and shook it vigorously.
“How are you old friend?” he said as I surveyed him. His gray hair was just the same as the last time I had seen him, parted to one side. As usual, he wore the usual deep black suit and red tie that seemed to be a part of him.
“Holding together,” I said eyeing the newspaper he was carrying.
“Aren’t we all?” was his reply.
“Catching up on current events?” I inquired motioning towards the paper.
“No, just some light reading,” he replied quickly folding it up and placing it under his left arm while bouncing on his heels, “recent murders and all of that jazz.” A smile crossed his face as if he had told a funny joke.
“Sounds interesting, want to go to lunch then? I’ve already called a cab.”
“Very well.”
On the way down to the restaurant we caught up with each other. I didn’t want to start questioning him yet. It had been a long time since we had talked, and I was enjoying it thoroughly. The restaurant sat a few blocks away from the river. I generally enjoyed the food there for lunch. I ordered my usual sandwich and Mr. Carsnell ordered the same. We continued to talk until I had exhausted all other possible lines of conversation. I wasn’t looking forward to asking my mentor what had happened.
“It’s good to see you are still up on top,” I said while playing with my food.
“We don’t stay on top forever.”
“No, but I need to ask you something.”
“Ask away, I knew this wasn’t just to catch up on old times.”
“Well, that old murder case where you defended the serial killer. I’ve been looking into it. I’ve come across a lead that makes me believe the man was innocent.”
“Really? When I took the case it seemed a hopeless cause. I really didn’t think I had a chance of winning it.”
“Well, what I was really wandering is what happened to the case file. I tried finding it, but all records seem to have been lost. It’s not like you to lose something.”
“Lost, no not lost. Probably just misplaced or shoved in the wrong spot.” I couldn’t believe that myself. I knew that the system had the potential to lose things, yet in a law firm such as ours, nothing had ever been lost. If it couldn’t be found there was a reason for it.
“Well then can you fill me in on some of the details that you remember?” I asked.
“Larson, my memory isn’t what it used to be. It’s probably just better if you let this drop. I’m sure that the man was guilty.”
“You never took a case you couldn’t win.”
“Look Larson, there are some things that are forgotten for a reason. If I could help you I would, but trust me. It’s better if you let this go. For old time’s sake, what do you say?”
“I don’t think I can do that. What are you hiding?” I stared out the nearby window towards the street. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The mother of the victim was looking right back at me. She had followed me. “I think I should be going.”
“Larson, let it go,” he said. “Don’t get yourself get caught up in all of this. That man did it.”
“I have to leave, its not you. See the woman across the street.” I pointed her out. “That is the mother of one of the victims. Ever since I contacted her she had been following me. I have to go.”
“Rethink your decision. Larson, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I’m going to find out what happened.”
“Rethink it; we will talk latter, Ok?”
I never answered him. I just walked out the door and left him to pay the check. Luckily she had disappeared before I left the restaurant. I decided I would walk back. The buildings grew larger around me and the sky darker as I went deeper into the city. I felt something touch my cheek. A light drizzle had begun to splatter the ground. I pulled my coat tighter to help keep myself warm. It was only a few blocks to my building.
When I closed the glass door behind me the sky let loose and it began to pour. I walked across the lobby to the elevator and pushed the up button. The elevator rumbled down and as I walked between the metal doors the woman came inside. She saw me and tried to wave me down. I could tell there was something she wanted to tell me, something she considered important, but I wasn’t going to hear it.
I hastily pushed the close-door button, followed by thirty. The door slid shut moments before she reached it. As I leaned back against the false wood panels, the elevator began its slow ascent.
It hit me while I was alone that Carsnell’s last remark was more of a threat than a warning. I couldn’t understand why he had been so abrasive. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense either that that mother was following me. When the doors opened I went back to my office and sat at my desk. I stared outside at the now dark sky and watched the rain tumble down towards the road for hours.
Turning around I saw that the newspaper from today had been placed on my desk by my secretary while I had been out. It was a copy of the same one that Carsnell had been reading. The murder he had been reading about had made front page. I read through it and there was something strikingly similar to something else I had read. I fumbled through my papers, searching for an old record. The details of the crime were practically the same as the one that my new client had been charged for the murder of. According to the paper there had been a witness to the latest crime. The suspect had been wearing a dark trench coat and his hair was gray. Other than that the witness had not been able to make out any details.
A thought flashed through my mind, but I shoved it back it was too ridiculous. I continued to read the paper, as there were more articles. All of them were about different murders and a few of them had witnesses that described a confident man with gray hair. Fear clenched at my heart restricting my breathing.
This couldn’t be. I remember thinking to myself. It doesn’t make sense.
But I couldn’t drive the thought out of my head. He had threatened me, told me to stay out of it. I thought about calling the police, letting them know what I had come across. But they wouldn’t see the connection that I saw, and they certainly wouldn’t believe that Carsnell, the great criminal defense attorney, had committed murder, or at least had a hand in it. I could barely convince myself.
I would have to get more evidence but everything was gone, all the old records. A man had been convicted of the crime. There was absolutely nothing I could do and I knew it. Carsnell had been his usual calculating self. He planned out everything. And I had just stumbled onto some loose ends.
I looked at a clock. It was well after seven. Where had the time gone? Nobody would be in the office. Just as I was getting ready to get my coat and leave, my door opened. Carsnell stepped inside. A spasm crossed my face and I saw that he noticed.
“What is wrong?” he said in a cold voice without the slightest glimmer of surprise on his features.
I picked up the paper and tossed it at his feet. Anger surged inside me that I had never felt before. I had trusted this man more than anyone else I had ever met.
“I told you to leave it alone. I told you it would be for your own good.”
I had to leave, I had to run. I had to escape before I became another victim. My palms were sweating vigorously and I must have gone pale.
“You know I can’t let you leave now,” he had said in the same casually cold voice. Reaching into his pocket with a gloved hand he pulled out a gun with a silencer attached to the end.
“You won’t get away,” was the last thing I said to him.
“Yes I will, and then that mother will be found with a bullet in her head and this gun in her hand. It will all be over.”
I made my break for it as the glass shattered behind me. The wind, rain and all my papers whipped about me for a split second before the second bullet brought me to a halt. For a second I stared at him, and then I fell through the void where once was my window.
It chanced that three stories down a ledge had saved my life. It paralyzed me and broke my bones. They found me, but I never healed completely. I was almost a vegetable. They came in everyday, the men in the white coats and women in white coats. They told me a bunch of facts and figures. Every now and then someone would come in and tell me about the investigation into my accident, how they suspected the women who had done nothing. Not that long ago he came though. He came and he rested his hand upon the cords that kept me alive as if to wrench them out from where they were.
“They say you could recover soon. I can’t have that. No lose ends, can’t have my past catch up with me. I will be leaving, and you won’t be stopping me.”
I realized that this could be the end. That an innocent man was going to die, and that I was going to be another victim. Everything made a quick flash through my mind and I wanted to scream, but could make no sound as his eyes bored a whole into my head. Before he could finish the deed a nurse walked into the room and he hid his hand from me.
I finished talking to the policemen who had, just hours ago, let him pass them in the hallway. They had wished him a good day, and he had left. The drugs the doctors had sedated me with to keep comfortable during the new procedure had worn off soon after. The police had of course immediately called in a report, but they were told that a Mr. Carsnell had left the country and would not be back.