MADMAN'S DEMISE

29

During Frederick's examination of Arthur, it occurred to me once and for all how bad of a lawyer he was. It was clear he was fighting hard to succeed with his only duty as a defence attorney, but not even that he could manage. He was not smart enough. He was just one of those being assigned cases for defendants who couldn't afford and request an expensive barrister. He was not involved in this because he so badly wanted to undertake the role as Arthur Barlowe's defence attorney, instead, he was here because he had to, because his agency was responsible for provisions for criminals who were in need of one.

Of course, also Arthur was to blame for the ulterior unwill to cooperate and the destruction of his own case. But a defence attorney shouldn't be able to be outsmarted by their client, which Frederick now was.

Arthur tried not to seem too obvious wanting to destroy his case himself. He played dumb, answered the questions in the most clumsy ways. He claimed to be innocent, then he accidentally slipped, pretending to expose himself, and appeared nervous, which made him seem unreliable. Frederick even tried rephrasing the questions to give Arthur several chances to clear up his mistakes.

Only if that dumb barrister knew it was all a big plot.

I could see Frederick was exhausted after the examination of Arthur. He didn't want to seem disgruntled, but since I knew what was going on it was hard for me not to read every detail of his expressions and comprehend that he was discretely turning more perturbed.

Frederick sat down by the defence table again. His flabby figure melted into the chair. I could see the small wet drops of sweat on his thick neck, a few of them running down the collar of his shirt before he wiped them off with the palm of his left hand. My mouth twitched at the disgusting vision, yet a part of me was relieved with the way I just realised how bad of a job Frederick Harding was doing.

I took my eyes off the big male, moving them to watch as the much more polite, representational Roscoe Van Doren stepped forward to start the cross-examination of Arthur. His clean, steady appearance made him seem prepared, just as he did before questioning all the other witnesses. With hands politely tied behind his back, he started to speak to Arthur.

"May I ask why you are here today, Mr. Barlowe?"

"I'm here to do justice, Sir." Suddenly Arthur appeared a lot more polite than earlier as he responded to Roscoe.

"Justice to what, exactly?" The barrister asked.

"My son, Brandon Barlowe." My heart skipped a beat. It was now or never for Arthur to solve this.

"Would you please clarify?"

"I am here today to plead myself guilty of charge of the five homicides of Marion, Vernon and Manuel Acker, Joyce Carlton and Conrad Barney. Their deaths are my responsibility, and not my son's. I am here to concede I set him up, and forced him to confess to my crimes so that I could hunt down and kill Joseph Acker after what he did to my wife, Nina, and my two children, Stefan and Ruby."

I carefully glanced over at Frederick as Arthur finally dropped the bomb, his whole being sinking beneath the ground. He closed his eyes, his fat stomach slowly rising before falling within a sigh of realisation. He rubbed his face, his hand trying to hide the now obvious disappointment he felt with his client. He was officially fooled, and there was nothing he could do about it now.

"I see," Roscoe glanced at Frederick whose face now clearly exposed his disillusion.

"Now, Mr. Barlowe, would you please tell me why you chose to come forward now?"

"Because it came to my knowledge that Joseph Acker is now dead, and I am therefore ready to pay for what I have done." Arthur responded, mentioning nothing about the cancer.

"And just to make things clear, may I ask why you wanted Joseph Acker dead?"

Arthur snorted at Roscoe's question, thinking it was as dumb as I thought myself.

"As I said... because he murdered my wife, my son... and my daughter..." Arthur's voice now trembled, and he had to allow himself a deep breath to continue digging up the horrifying past.

"Because he made me leave them. Because he put my son through hell. Because he was a rapist, a paedophile, a sadist!" Arthur clenched his two fists before him on the table, the anger almost steaming around him. His face red, his jaw strained, his eyes black, reminding me of his son in a state of fury.

"Please clarify, Mr. Barlowe." Roscoe begged, arching his brows while looking at Arthur.

"Joseph Acker was part of the same military unit as myself during the war. Afterwards, he remained in the force and attended several gatherings where we'd meet each other's wives and families. That's when he targeted Nina. So in November 1945, the first threat arrived. At first, I thought it was just a sick joke, since the letter had no sender. But it didn't take long until it got worse. The threats increased, and he was no longer afraid to leave his signature in the letters he sent me. He wrote he'd come for my family, that he wanted my pregnant wife, that I had to leave otherwise he'd come to take them from me.

At first I was just mad and got overly protective of my family. But it wasn't until he sneaked into the hospital to steal my newborn daughter I realised he truly meant all of what he had wrote me,"

Arthur faltered, and began whispering things to himself, shaking his head while recalling what happened so many years ago. I almost couldn't believe it myself what he said. Was this part of the arrangement? Was this all lies? In that case Arthur Barlowe was a hell of a liar, coming forward with a story like this one, looking as well as sounding trustworthy.

"God... He took her... He stole her..."

My heart broke by his whispers, his being reminding me so much of his son I had to look away. I closed my eyes for a second. The feelings overwashing me. The sorrow and heartache entering my body again, displacing the red wine that had kept me stable until now. I swallowed hard, trying the hide the torturous feelings down my throat and save the emotional belch for later. Then Arthur started talking again, allowing me to focus on his words and let go of the painful thoughts of his son for a while.

"Thankfully she was put back into the nursery after a couple of hours, unharmed and well, and it didn't take long until I realised it was just another of Acker's threats. He controlled me, haunted me. He was everywhere without me knowing. I was powerless."

Roscoe listened carefully, allowed Arthur to take his time and explain his part of the story.

"Did you ever tell anyone about the threats?" He asked, wanting Arthur to continue talking.

"No I didn't. I was planning to tell Nina, but after seeing her so devastated after the situation at the hospital, I just couldn't... so I let her believe there had been an accidental mixture of two baby girls that day, and that Ruby had been gone for a couple hours because the nurses informed the wrong parents they were taking her for tests and making sure she was healthy."

"Did you ever get the police involved?" Added Roscoe. Arthur closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"How were they supposed to prove it was him? A name signed on a paper is not enough evidence and of that I am aware. I knew involving them would only make it worse, he made that very clear to me in the letters." Arthur explained.

Although I knew it was not worth much more hope in this, I was somehow proud of Arthur and the way he spoke. Only the mentioning of a signature not being evidence enough was a smart move. He knew it would make the jury thoughtful. He knew it would make them consider Leo Myer's exhibit extra carefully. He knew what he was doing, once more proving to me he was one step ahead of every single person in here.