A Trial with A Lawyer

The courtroom rang out with the resonance of the sound of the gavel hitting the hard oak table. The crowd rose at the magnificent entrance of the large man from the hidden doorway. Dressed in a white shirt and a black cape, he walked with unhurried demeanor to his cushioned seat. Half mooned spectacles hanging around his thick neck, the porky wrinkled man looked around at the waiting throng and sat down slowly.

There in front of him stood two people dressed smartly in black suits, one sporting rimless glasses which gave a very learned look. Breaking the silence, he said,” Good morning, Your Honor.”

“A good morning to you as well,” said the Honorable Judge Simmons in a sweet drawl. Continuing in a voice lined with impatience he said,” Now are you both smart-asses going to dilly dally in my court or will you get to work.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry for the delay,” replied the two in meek voices.

Facing his opponent in the face, Frank Barnes, aged 32 with a balding head and his rimless glasses, started off with his arguments. His suit, tailored to perfection, and shoes, polished till even a dot of dust didn’t remain on them, shone brightly even in the dim lights of the courtroom. His receding hairline shone with oil and gleamed along with the whole of his self as his artificial smile pleasured the judge and made his opponent sweat.

Leaving the case aside, which talked about a DUI and had no space left for the defense to protest and to walk away scot free, the two lawyers were the best of friends. Being in the business for the last decade, Frank and Jensen had graduated together out of college. But, it was Frank who had outspoken Jensen and had worked his way to the top.

Jensen, at the same age, was dressed in a suit without a name on the lapel. A disheveled shirt under his ironed suit, he looked as though he hadn’t eaten well since a long time. Red eyes and a puffed up faced magnified his hangover and the long night he had gone through. Ruffling his sheaf of papers, he stood up and started off his own argument in opposition to his classmate.

The day walked on at its own pleasurable speed and strolled through with its breaks for lunch and coffee. The clock rang out at its customary time and thankfully signaled the end of the day for all those present in the stuffy room.

Shaking hands, the two friends walked out. Getting behind the wheels of their vehicles, Jensen with his tattered jalopy, and Frank in his shiny BMW SUV, they started through the driveway of the courthouse.

Bang! All that remained was the destroyed bumper of the black BMW. A broken headlight on the jalopy accompanied this huge dent. Getting out of his car, Frank walked back to survey the damage, with red in his face. Hurriedly rushing his old van out of the way, Jensen raced past the scene of the accident with Frank angrily shaking his arm. The bulletin which ran on the Evening News was that a lawyer had been found dead in his car, which had been hammered beyond recognition, and it was originally a 1986 Jalopy.

Woken up in the dead of the night by a mysterious knocking on the door, Frank Barnes walked out from his soft bed and opened the red teak door to his condominium apartment situated on Beach Road.

“Mr. Barnes, please co-operate with us. We would like to take you in for questioning about the murder of your friend and opponent in your latest case, Mr. Jensen Ames,” said the uniformed police officer.

Shocked and stunned, the distinguished lawyer drove away with them; only to be driven to the court in the same car with the same flashing lights. But the difference was that he would be the one being tried.