Case of The Confounding Jester (Editing)

Chapter 9

The lawyer who I got was an overworked, underpaid and a tired old woman. "Look son, you are up shit creek without a paddle. You have been arrested. Your best option right now is to plead guilty," recommended the lawyer. 

"No, absolutely not. I'm not guilty. Well, I am. But, there's a bigger picture. There has to be one. I am not responsible," I respond adamantly. 

The lawyer sighed. "Very well. How about you plead not guilty by reason of insanity," she suggested quietly. 

"No. Absolutely not," I thunder, shaking my head negatively. 

"Son, listen to me carefully. They caught you in the act. You were a police investigator. You know better than most. I know it. Everyone outside this room knows it. You ARE guilty. There is no way you can claim that you are not guilty without pleading insanity," said the lawyer forcefully. "I will leave you to think about your options. However, remember claiming insanity in itself is a far shot. Only 26% of the insanity claimed cases are successful. In your case, since you were already visiting a psychiatrist, you have a better chance of winning the case. You will most probably be in a mental asylum which I'm sure you know is much better than jail. Especially for a police investigator," said the lawyer packing up her case. She then left me to stew in my own thoughts.

Of all the things the lawyer said, one thing kept popping to my mind. 'You were a police investigator.' It was only now beginning to sink in that I was arrested and my life was in tatters. It was time to start thinking about my life before even trying to contemplate saving my career.

Time flew. Days passed into weeks. The police department officially arrested me on charges of public nuisance and vandalism. They released a statement concerning my role as the jester. I was denied bail and had to stay imprisoned until the court hearings.

I stayed in jail in a daze unable to comprehend how my life had turned topsy-turvy. While I had believed I was guilty for the past few weeks, it was still shocking and mind-boggling to find myself on the other side of the law.

"You have a visitor," informed a prison guard in a wooden voice. 

Making my way to the visitor room in handcuffs, I found my sister. She looked frazzled and haggard. Never before had I seen my sister this way. Her eyes were tired and bloodshot. Her hair was messy and unkempt. Her shoes didn't match and she had her coat on inside out. Seeing her this way, snapped me out of the mind-numbing daze that I had been in. 

"What's wrong, Izzy? Is Angel alright?," I ask worriedly, assuming that something had happened to my niece.

Izzy smiles kindly and warning bells start to ring. As sweet as my niece was, my sister was equally sharp and witty with an attitude a mile long. Izzy was anything but kind at the best of times. 

Evading my eyes, Izzy said, "Angel and I have to leave for a short time. I might not be able to see you very often. I called my friend, Jaz. Please talk to her. Tell her everything."

"No. I will not promise anything until you tell me what is going on," I replied stubbornly. Izzy started looking even more frazzled. 

"Please Pete. You have to. Please Pete," she begs and shocks me into silence. Never had I heard my sister beg. I had to get to the bottom of the issue at any cost. 

"Tell me what is going on and don't even think of lying. I'm your brother and I know all your tells. What is going on, Izzy?", I ask in an unwavering, determined tone.

Izzy breaks down crying. Alarmed and heart-broken to see her tears, I am desperate to pull her into a hug. Unfortunately, it's not possible as criminals in jail are not allowed to touch their visitors. "Tell me Izzy. I've always had your back. Tell me what is going on Izzy," I urge my sister. Wiping her tears away she breathes choppily for a few minutes. 

With her head bent, she says in a monotone voice, "After the news telecast of you being the jester, everything changed. Friends started distancing themselves. I lost my job. Angel started being bullied at school. Last night, a group of youngsters threw stones into the house and spray-painted curse words all over the door. I called Blade. He said there was nothing he could do. So, I called my friend Jaz, who is a private investigator. She used to be a soldier in an elite unit. She asked me to move away for my safety. However, she promised to look into your case. Please talk to Jaz, Peter. Please. I don't want to abandon you. I don't want to betray you."

I looked into my sister's eyes and said in a firm voice, "Sis, you would never betray me. Angel is your priority and I am very upset that you haven't left yet. I'll get to the bottom of my case. Don't worry. Go now. Take care of Angel and yourself." 

She asked hopefully, "Will you talk to Jaz?" Unable to deny her request, I nodded.