Shadows

the power of words

As he entered the room he was whistling. Leon looked at him angrily. He felt proud for not answering. His feet were on the table and he was leaning back.

"Greetings from your friend George!", the detective announced with a smile.

"Haha..." Leon grumbled, "Do you think I will believe this."

"He has blonde hair and a mustache. He lives in Park Lane 23B and drives a grey Porsche with the number plate FM LI22469."

Leon fell on the ground. His face became pale.

"How in all the world...?", he asked panicking.

"Some words, a little logic and a magical spell," Schulze grinned ironic. "He doesn't know yet who turned him in. It's his good right to know it. Don't you think?"

As Schulze left the room he was laughing. He had a full protocol in his hand. Now it was time to go back to Gregson. He already felt the advocate appreciating his work. Leon had melted, now it was time to defrost the other one.

"We've all evidence against you: You have been selling drugs at the train station for the past five years."

"My client knows that there is no prove to this lie," the lawyer responded without any emotions.

"We have witnesses," Schulze answered.

"Witnesses can also lie. My client has a couple of personal enemies. They would love to spread any lies."

"He has been selling Heroin, LSD, Marihuana and Ecstasy. He always waited in the Mc Donald's at the station. Some of the drugs went to schools..."

Gregson jumped up:"Leon! This little rat from Friedrich-Schiller-High-School. If I could catch him now."

"I see you have connections. But you should know that we traced your drug in several schools."

The lawyer grabbed Gregsons sleeve and pulled him down to the table. He started whispering something into his clients ear as Gregson slowly calmed down.

"Knowing a bad person doesn't make you a bad person," the lawyer responded calmly, "This doesn't prove anything. You may excuse, my client is tired."

Schulze walked into the advocates office and reported his work. The advocate nodded appreciating. "The only question remaining is, how he could afford having a lawyer from a famous company like Miller, Miller & James", the detective whistled.

"Maybe he has some money hidden from the tax. Or...", the judge stopped for a moment as a new thought reached her head, "Or he has connections."

The court was busy for the next two months. Neighbors fighting for meters of land. People arguing about their grandparents wills. Couples getting divorced. At the end the trial for Leon was in June and the one for Gregson in the end of July. Till then they stayed under arrest. Gregson in a cell and Leon at home.

As the process came Gregson's lawyer showed what he gets paid for.

"The honorable judge may consider," he started professionally, "That the witness never knows the exact time, when my client was at the station."

"It was around five pm," the witness interrupted.

"Please show the security camera's recording again," the judge ordered.

The screen showed a colorless picture of people passing by. Some had heavy suitcases. They ran over the screen like ants as the assistant passed forward. Then the important place came. A man with blond hair entered the scene. He looked like Gregson, but the camera showed only his back. He leaned on the information waiting for somebody. Then Leon arrived. He greeted the man and they started talking about something. Then Leon handed a paper bag over. The man opened it and carefully examined the content. He seemed to be satisfied and handed the boy a robber. Then they separated.

Another recording came. A similar scene. This time it was in the Macdonalds. You could see Gregsons face from the side.

"And we found the robber at Leon's house," the detective said triumphing. He took the robber out. The chemical had made visible plenty of finger prints. Some of them belonged to Gregson.

"I'm sorry but this doesn't proves anything," the lawyer disagreed, "This bag went through a lot of hands since they gave it out at the supermarket. Have you found all those people who's fingerprints I see?"

"These are Grengson's, these belong to Leon... Over here we have his twelve year old sister and his mother... We have Gregson's girlfriend... And two unknown. Inside we have traces of drugs. Also there was a recite from the Aldi at the new Mall for the 20.2.2015. It also has the fingerprints of the unknown person."

"Honorable judge, as you see a lot of people have touched this bag. Any of them could be dealing the drugs. The unknown got the bag at the store. He must be the one who gave the kid drugs. Mr Gregson probably took this robber at the store. Then he realized, that he had one robber to much so he left it there and somebody else got it. This happens a million times."

"And what do you say to the fact, that Gregson met Leon at the Station and gave him this exact same robber?", the advocate responded.

"First it is not illegal to meet a fried. Secondly there are millions of robbers like this one. Can you prove that it was this specific one?"

"And we found a recite in Gregsons house, from the Macdonals at the station. It was handed out at the 5.5.2015 at 17:13. It is ten minutes before the recording was made."

"And I don't deny that he was at the station. My client has to travel to München often because of his job. The train to Munich leaves at 17:30." The lawyer presented a month ticked on which the controller had stamped a couple of dates. The judge nodded.

After two long weeks of trial Mr. Theodor Gregson was considered innocent and set free. Schulze saw him going and felt a hurt deep inside, because there was no question, that this man was guilty. His lawyer walked out allowing himself to show a little of happiness on his face. He was enjoying his victory. Schulze looked at him with anger as he passed by.

"So you really believe, that this guy is clean?" he bawled out at him.

The lawyer grinned ironic. "I'm a lawyer. It doesn't count what I believe. It doesn't count what is true. What I can prove, this is what counts."

Shocked and frustrated Schulze spent the evening at the bar. Later he returned home at two o'clock in the night. He was so drunk that his wife refused to let him in.