"Who's your damn lawyer?"
Sound of iron door creaks open as the police officer looked at me, he sounded so dismayed. He appeared like it disgusted him so much that I got to be released.
The old man removed his arms covering his eyes as he was lying on his bed then stared at the police officer talking and bound his eyes to me.
"This is so saddening on my part, how bout' me officer?" He expressed as he quickly sat up. But it did not sound piteous, instead it was more like a mock.
He then looked at me, not to say something—but just to stare, annoyingly. I damn hate that grin.
"Too bad, how bout'… hmm next life?" The officer answered. That made him burst laughing.
"Lucky you, Paul."
"Unlucky me. Just hope we don't see each other…" I stared at him, marking my eyes on his face as I walked out of the cell. "Ever again."
"Don't get too high hopes, you're just bailed out. You're still going to trial as far as I know." The officer interjected. He pushed me on my back making me almost trip and caught myself to walk faster so I would not fall.
I could still hear him laughing with the wheezing sound he was enduring as I walked further from the cell.
When we reached the stations attending area, I saw my items inside a zip lock plastic bag, placed on the table— the ones I wore when I was brought here. My attorney was there sitting at the front desk, smiling with so much pride at me.
The officer left off and I walked toward where he was and seated myself on the vacant chair in front of him.
"I am just so good." He mumbled.
"We can hear you." I prompted, then glanced at the policewoman behind the desk, looking at her hinting her to support what I just said. She just stared blankly at us and let out a sigh.
"I intended that to be heard." He cracked.
I just shook my head and focused my attention on the documents handed to me by the policewoman and signed where I needed to sign. Then I picked up my items and went to change my clothes.
When we stepped out of the station, my attorney offered me a ride home so we could discuss things on our way.
"How did you pull it off?" He bound his look at me for a moment then back on the road. "The bail." I clarified.
He grinned. "Simple."
"Yeah. How?"
"You know, you were just shocked when you learned Stephen died from poisoning. You asked how but you never asked the question 'what'."
I just stared at him, puzzled.
"What was in the coffee." He phrased, without removing his attention from the traffic.
"What do you mean?"
"His autopsy showed that he died from lead poisoning."
I leaned back on my seat and glanced outside the car window and paused.
"A small amount of lead in that cup of coffee could not kill him in a day." I muttered, busying my attention at the cars passing us. I could feel he flashed his eyes at me for a second.
"Exactly. Their evidence against them." He tapped his fingers in a sequence on the driving wheel like there was something he was about to add to his sentence, but there was none.
We were silent for a while and his focus was on driving, but I can see he is thinking about something— hence, constantly tapping his fingers on the wheel.
"It was fortunate that the court granted the bail. You, having been absent from the bail hearing was a stupendous way to almost slip the chance of getting bailed out." He breaks the silence. He glanced at me and chuckled. "Bad timing for a panic attack to occur."
"I apologize for that, really a bad timing. I was suffocating in there." I answered grabbing my collar and tucked it fixed.
"The impression you could make to the judge is a crucial part in winning that bail hearing." He was serious at first, but a small laughter escaped. "Doesn't mean I won't win it though. Look who's enjoying life outside prison again?"
"I wanted to be present at the hearing. I needed to meet Stephen's wife."
"She wasn't there too. His lawyer said he can't stand to face the person responsible for the murder of her husband." He responded.
I sighed in contempt and just shook my head.
We talked about my case for a while before we reached my place and dropped me off in front of my office.
He told me about the evidence they submitted. The autopsy report they handed was not complete and only stated that Stephen died from poisoning—Food Poisoning, it wasn't clarified what, so he turned it against them and argued based on what they have presented. Considering that money is not a problem for them, they could have pulled off something behind closed doors— that could also be why the court ordered the warrant immediately.
"Don't do anything rash. We'll be in court in three months. I'll update you with the autopsy report."
He drove off immediately. I wanted to yell at him for telling me not to do anything rash— as if I would. I'm innocent and what I do is help people, not kill people.
He said he requested to have the complete autopsy rerun, this time with strict supervision from the authority so there won't be anything removed or added to the next report. In that case it will take additional time for the hearing to be scheduled, delayed until the result comes out. Until then, other cases will be in line first in date, buying us more time to think about our defense.
I walked towards the entrance of my office and slammed the door open. The way time runs inside that cell felt totally different outside, it's like I've been gone for so many years looking at the surrounding inside my office.
I scanned around and just stood at the entrance. My mind was on the cigarette I had placed in my drawer four days ago. After all those that surfaced at me—I'm gasping to smoke a pack.
I glanced at the therapy corner where me and Alexis was having our session. I could almost see so vividly in my mind the image of how we sat there before the arrest.
"I'll have to arrange a session with Alex."
I walked toward my table and opened the drawer to grab the pack of cigarettes before sitting. I slid the chair backward and raised my feet up and placed it on top of the desk before lighting a stick, then tossed the lighter back to the table.
"I hope you will still be proud of me, Papop… After all this."