Fighting to Be Free

The door opened seconds later and a young, scrawny looking guy in a cheap suit came in, shuffling papers as he walked, dropping most of them onto the floor. I sighed. Defence attorneys really were a pile of shit, and this guy was my only chance out of here? I was screwed already.

“Mr Cole, I’m Darren Sanders, your court appointed attorney, I’ll be representing you,” he greeted as he bumbled his way into the room, extending his hand towards me.

I nodded, shaking his hand. “Great. This should be an open a shut case then. I imagine I’ll be home in time for breakfast,” I muttered sarcastically.

He frowned, pushing his glasses up his beaky nose. “I don’t think so. You have a lot of charges against you, I think the breakfast target is a little overly optimistic,” he replied obviously not getting my humour.

I blew out a big breath and sat back in my chair, closing my eyes. “Right. I’ll let my hopes fall back down then, for a second I was confident that you’d get me off all charges and I would be free to go on my merry way.”

The chair scraped next to me, more papers shuffled. “Let’s get started going through everything. We only have half an hour before they come in to start their questioning, I need you to tell me in your own words what happened tonight,” he instructed, his voice shaking as he spoke. I looked up at him curiously, maybe he wasn’t used to working cases like this - he looked fairly young, for all I knew this could have been his first case.

I sighed, deciding on what I could let this guy in on and what I would keep back. Usually in this situation I would just answer everything with ‘no comment’ so that I didn’t drop anyone else in anything, but to be honest, with Brett dead there was no one to really protect anymore. Everyone would be facing the same charges as me, and we were all going down for it.

I opened my mouth to speak, but a knock at the door interrupted us. A cop poked his head in, smiling apologetically. “Mr Sanders, sorry to interrupt but Mr Cole’s private appointed attorney has just arrived to take over the case.”

I frowned. My appointed attorney? I didn’t have an appointed attorney which is why I was stuck with this little imbecile.

“Oh really? I was called to represent Mr Cole. Why was I called if he already had someone?” my guy asked, standing up and looking confused and more than a little put out.

The cop shrugged. “We weren’t aware that he had one. Mr Barrington has just arrived at the station and is demanding council with his client.”

Mr Barrington? As in, Brett’s attorney, the hardass? A little smile twitched at the corner of my lips as my heart leap into my throat, maybe there was a chance I’d be home in time for breakfast….

The guy that had just settled himself down at my table started grumbling under his breath about time-wasters and hotshot, overpriced attorneys thinking they’re above everyone else. He picked up his papers and marched out of the room without so much as even looking at me again. As he stepped out of the room, in stepped a guy I’d never met. His black suit looked tailored and expensive. His blonde hair was styled perfectly even though he’d probably been woken up to come down here tonight. He stood with a confidence and self-assuredness that only came from knowing you were better than everyone else around you.

He stepped into the room and turned back to the police officer that had interrupted. “I expect that,” he waved his hand to the mirrored wall, “to be empty. Ensure you turn on the light in there so I can be sure that my private meeting with my client isn’t being viewed,” he instructed.

The cop frowned, not looking too impressed. “Absolutely,” he agreed, his voice harsh and annoyed.

He stepped out of the room leaving us on our own. I stood up and opened my mouth to speak, but he held up one hand signalling for me to wait. Seconds later the mirrored glass disappeared and you could see through it like a window as someone flicked on the light in there. An empty room was the other side, chairs and recording equipment was set up pointing in here. Mr Barrington peered inside curiously before turning back to me and smiling sadly.

“I expect that you’re confused as to why I’m here for you,” he said, walking around the table and sitting down.

I nodded in confirmation, noticing that he wasn’t bumbling with papers like the previous guy; I guess that just showed his superiority in some ways. “Yeah, I didn’t call you.”

He nodded, looking me over curiously. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Brett and I were old friends so I’ve heard about you for years. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he stated. I frowned, unsure as to what to say. Did he know that Brett had died tonight? As if sensing my question, he answered it. “I got a call from a good friend in the police informing me that Brett had been killed. Naturally I asked about the situation, and as soon as they mentioned your name I rushed down here. Brett told me that I should look after you if you ever needed me, so here I am.”

I gulped. “Oh,” was all I could manage.

He smiled sadly. “I know you and Brett got on well, he thought a great deal of you. He’d be saddened to know you were here right now. I understood from him that you were getting out of this life, and leaving to do some travelling. With my son’s ex-girlfriend no less,” he said, leaning forward in his seat and clasping his hands together tightly.

I nodded. “Yeah, we’re supposed to go today. I don’t suppose you can wave a magic wand over all of this and get me out of here so I could still do that?” I asked hopefully. Even if he could just get me out of police custody, maybe I could try and leave the country or something if they let me out ‘pending investigation’. Well, that’s if they didn’t seize my passport that is.