Justice Served Wrong

The Story

 

 

As she stood there all confused and lost, the loud sirens from the police cars woke her up from her silent trance. Too terrified to move, too shocked to speak, she couldn't open the door when knocked. The officer on the other side broke the door open, and men in police uniforms came flooding in, securing the corners. The chief made his way into the room in a bulletproof vest to see Mr. Silverstone lying on the ground, bleeding from a gunshot in his stomach. His grey hair spoke of his old age. Wrinkles had started appearing on his face. He was dressed fancily, in the way a world famous entrepreneur would be expected to dress. Green veins revealed on his wrinkled wrists. He was weak. The white shirt that he wore was half soaked in deep-red blood. Just beyond his polished black shoes stood a woman, with one hand covering her mouth, and the other holding a gun. She was later identified to be Mrs. Carla Silverstone.

 

"In what seems like the most unexpected event of the day, famous businessman Mr. Tiago Silverstone was found murdered in their Grand Canyon Hotel in Los Angeles on fifteenth August, at 11:43 pm. He was reportedly suffering from the neuro generic disease ALS from the past two months. The only person he shared the room with was his wife, Mrs. Carla Silverstone, who was also found at the crime scene with a gun in her hand. Mrs. Carla Silverstone is also the chairman of the Mile High School in Philadelphia. The police have taken the wife in custody.

Moving on..."

The jail attendant shut the TV NEWS7 off and shot a dirty look to the cell across his desk; the cell that held Mrs. Silverstone. She had had the liberty to speak to her lawyer, but other than that she hadn't spoken a word to anyone else. She looked sad and stumped. So unlike the other prisoners, she didn't belong to this environment in her skirt and top. She looked depressed.

A man dressed in a suit entered the jail and made his way to the attendant's desk. He removed some papers from his leather briefcase and placed them onto the desk. The attendant looked at him, perplexed, and then spent about five minutes understanding what the papers were about. He removed a bunch of keys from his drawer and walked the man to Mrs. Silverstone's cell. He opened the door, and stepped aside to let the man enter. He closed the door, locking the two inside, and gave them an unpleasant smile.

"Mrs. Silverstone, I'm your husband's personal secretary."

She didn't reply, she just nodded.

"I'm also the executer of your husband's will."

"Okay." She spoke in a very feeble voice.

"Before that, Mrs. Silverstone, your husband used to speak highly of you. He used to speak about your holiday trips together a lot. You could see that he really loved you. But never did he spoke of any tensions or conflicts in the house. And this is coming from a person whom he used to tell literally everything..."

"He didn't say anything because there were no conflicts."

"But then, why would you kill him?"

She looked at his face for the first time, and spoke looking into his eyes. She spoke softly and her words were wrapped in fear.

"I did not kill my husband."

Somewhere underneath the deep black eyes lied a brilliant spark of innocence, and the man was able to notice it.

"I believe you."

She smiled, for the first time in the past twenty four hours.

"Mrs. Silverstone, did you know anything about the will? Do you know what is written in these papers here?" he pointed at some documents in his briefcase.