Gil Goodrich: The Pyrrhic Turnabout

“Three…”

‘Riiing. Riiiing.’

“Two…”

‘Riiiing. Riiiing. Riiing’

“One…”

‘Riiiing. Riiiing.’

“I want you to think back to fifteen years ago…every fine cold heart-wrenching detail…every hurt, whimper, and cry...hold onto all those feelings…good. That’s very good.

“Now pretend your body is like a sieve. The emotions you feel the least flows out of your body first. Your body progressively allows more and more emotions through, from the least intense to the most, until you are left with the strongest, biggest clumps of emotion that you can’t let go of. What do you have left?”

“Hate. So much hate…”

August 1, 9:43AM

Goodrich&Lesney Co.

Gil related to Pavlov’s dog.

When Pavlov’s bell rang, the dog started salivating.

When Ruth’s cellphone played Loving Serenade, Gil fished out his earplugs. The words 'Sugar, Sugar…O that night, in your embrace…When you stole away the keys my heart held on to so tight…’ still came to mind automatically, to Gil’s chagrin. He still had reason to keep the earplugs because he knew that while the dogs could look forward to food, Gil had another daughter/mother row.

Ruth and 'gentleness' did not go hand in hand. That was what Gil was for. She’d smoothed out over the years but there was only so much before she tossed patience to the wind and brought out her razor tongue. Ruth was most patient with her daughter, Amy, but several phone calls begging to be allowed to miss school because she had to help Operation: Still (Guiltily) in Love on the Gavinners official site. Gil had to admire the ferocity of certain fans’ belief that the band should stay together, even if their second guitarist had been charged with smuggling and murder among other things. Ruth had far less for that sort of behavior. Even with earplugs he could hear loud and clear,

“I don’t care if Michelle was excused because of a dead rodent - I'm sorry, much beloved hamster - a dying band doesn’t warrant a period of absence!”

It looked like they would be arguing for a while so Gil clicked on Origami Masters United and browsed the section on making horses.

"Amelia Lesley, if I have to pick up you up, shove you in the truck and-"

Oh, he was supposed to fold right and then diagonally. That would explain why his horse was looking more like a pig.

"You can't pull the 'I missed the bus' trick this time- no, I can't just lie to your teacher. We talked about this. Just because people say lawyers always lie doesn't mean I have to live up to expectations."

Gil was miming folding motions by the time Ruth's conversation ended. She walked over to him, arms akimbo before tapping on her ear. Gil pulled out his plugs. "You won?"

"She bargained. I now have to go pick her up, drop her off in time for her math test with as honest an excuse I'm willing to give, drive to the prison to talk to a new client, and then drive to the other side of the city for my other client's court date. Which means that unless you want to deal with me at my most irate..."

"I'll take on the new client, which gives you enough time deal with your current client."

"And we'll all be happier for it. Besides, this new one looks like the barely salvageable variety. That’s your thing."

"They just end up in my pile," Gil replied mildly.

"Well, it's currently sitting at the top of mine. You can look at it on the way over." Her face softened. "Thank you, Gil. Really."

"It's no problem. No point sticking you with two barely salvageables when they’re my thing."

She laughed on her way out. Gil spent an extra ten seconds memorizing the instructions on the site before grabbing the file and heading out too.

August 1, 10:24AM

Detention Center

“Are you actually going to give her a chance?”

Gil wasn’t unaware how intimidating someone could be despite a foot difference. Ruth could intimidate as well as any seven-foot three hundred pound thug. The man blocking Gil at the doorway was shorter than Ruth but the look he was giving Gil could unnerve the best of them. He couldn’t beat Ruth’s but it was fighting for runner up with the seven-foot three hundred pound thug.

“I intend to,” Gil said. That didn’t mollify him; the look sharpened and Gil was sure that just beat the thug.

“You intend to be but are you going to? If you’ve already made up your mind like everyone else around here than you can-”

“John, I’d like to at least see him before you chase him off,” a voice from the room interjected.

Guilt replaced antagonism on John’s face. He looked down, jaw clenched, breathed deep, then looked back, sheepish, “…sorry. John Sence, I’m Ennis’ husband.”

"Gil Goodrich, I'm from Goodrich&Lesney Co." He offered his hand. John had a strong grip and lots of callouses but he seemed distracted. He stepped back, leaving room for Gil to follow.

On the other side of the glass sat a ginger haired woman with pig tails. She regarded Gil for a moment and then turned to John. "Can you leave us alone?"

John shook his head. "I should hear this too. We’re in this together.”

"It's all right. I'll fill you in and if I don't like him I'll fire him. What I could really use right now is some coffee if they’ll let you slip it to me and I know you need it too.”

What the two really needed, in Gil’s opinion, was a good night’s sleep and peace of mind; John’s eyes were deeply sunk in and Ennis was teetering in her chair, her eyes looking worse. John sighed heavily. "I'll be back in twenty. Caramello Raspberry-shot latte?"

"Heavenly. The sight alone will perk me up.”

John turned to Gil. He coughed. “You want anything?”

“No, thank you.”

“’Kay.” He looked back to Ennis but she waved him off and mouthed ‘go’. He did but not before flashing Gil an intimidating look. Gil nodded. He got it. Apparently satisfied, John left them.

Ennis smiled, though wearily. "Are you actually going to give me a chance?"

"I'd like to, if you're willing to be open with me."

‘Click’. Ennis flicked at her nails. He noticed, then, the brightly coloured Band-Aids on her fingers. "My previous lawyer said something to that degree. That ended with him wanting me to offer a full confession, a show of remorse, and an agreement to go with whatever the prosecution would give and to pray for the slimmest chance the judge will accept instead of throwing it out for the standard sentence. It was hard to like defeatist dedication like that.”

"He’s not wrong. Based on the evidence, right now, the death penalty is almost a given," Gil said neutrally. "According to his notes, the prosecution has the following: the weapon, a 357 magnum, recently registered to you, with bullets consistent with the one found in the victim; a witness, a Ms. Ima Maize, who saw you approach and shoot the victim before dropping the weapon and fleeing the scene; and a video from the security cameras."

‘Click, click.’ "Then you already know how bad it is." ‘Click, flick.’

"But you don’t want to confess." Gil said.

She shook her head. “It’s the death penalty at worse or going away for a long, long time and I’d have to agree with everything they assume about me and what I supposedly did and why I did it when it’s not true. It’s not…” Ennis drew into herself. “But I wouldn’t believe this from someone else either.”

“Ms. Sence-”

“Ennis. If you’re defending me it’s alright if you call me that.”

"Ennis,” he corrected. “You and your husband asked me if I would really give you a chance. I'm willing to hear you out and give you every chance as long as you're honest with me. I can only help you as well as you'll let me."

Ennis searched his face. She must have found something because her posture relaxed a fraction but her voice was quiet. "I want to...but..." Her face screwed. "It's unbelievable. The ridiculously, poorly thrown together, desperate kind of unbelievable but it is true. The only one who believes me is John but he can't do much except intimidate potential attorneys." Gil waited about a minute before she continued. "The truth is...I don't remember doing it."

Gil's eyebrows went up. Ennis tensed again so he reminded himself not to let much show. "You don't remember? Not even meeting with Mr. Tam?"

"…No…."

"What do you remember then?"

‘Click, flick.’ “It’s hard to explain. Okay, do you know that feeling when you’re somewhere but suddenly realized you don’t remember why you went there or what you’ve been doing?” He nodded. Beat. ‘Click’. “John has the night shift at his workplace so he wasn’t with me when it happened. I was at home trying to get to sleep but the phone kept ringing and before I could answer it’d stop. I must have somehow drifted off during then but when I woke up-" ‘Pick, flick’. Crescent marks appeared near her nails. "-When I woke up my arm felt like it'd been thrown back by something, my ears were ringing, someone screamed and I was trying to find out where it was coming from but then I screamed because he - the victim - was bleeding out everywhere. I probably should have tried staunching it but I thought it had to be a dream you know? I've dreamt that once or twice, shooting someone, but I wasn't waking up and there was a gun in my hand so I panicked."

"That's why you left the scene."

"No! I left because...yes, I was confused as anyone else would be but I swear that's not why I left. There was a man dying or dead and something had to be wrong with me to be out there like that without any memory of how so yes, I panicked. I was going to call 911 but I didn't have my cellphone so I had to leave. I know it looks bad but that's the truth, Mr. Goodrich, I was so out of it that it hadn't even occurred to me that it would look like I was a culprit fleeing the crime scene, I didn't. If I were really the culprit I would have brought the gun with me to dispose of it or I would have realized that there was a witness nearby and taken her out because that only makes sense for someone who goes out and shoots someone. I would have picked somewhere without a camera or done something more to protect myself if I really was the culprit, which I'm not! It’s stupid to think I’d get away with it in circumstances like that and if I had intended to commit suicide, which I’ve never intended to do, I would have shot myself and saved the courts the effort of running me through humiliation and doom before giving me the death penalty. I wouldn't go through all...this. With everyone doubting me no matter how many times they interrogate me when there's nothing more I can say because I don't remember.”

Despite her admirably calm face, her lips quivered. She seemed to be aiming for confident nonchalance but the words were coming fast, as though she was trying to get it all out of the way as quickly as she could. She still looked ready to fall out of the seat too. If she wasn't busy picking at her fingers, he would have expected her to be holding onto something to keep from falling.

Ruth said he was a bleeding heart but he didn't see why most people wouldn't have their hearts go out to Ennis Sence in that moment.

"Well," she gave a strained smile, "that's all I had to say. Do you believe me?"

"I believe you aren't lying to me and that's all you can recall."

"But not that I didn't do it?"

"I'm willing to believe there's something else going on here,” Gil answered.

She looked like she was about to argue the answer but let it pass. Composing herself, she continued, "What can you do for me? But please, don't tell me to make peace with myself and pray for the best."

"I won't then." He laced his fingers in thought. “Unfortunately the prosecution won't accept well-timed amnesia or sleepwalking murder as a proper defense. Even if they know something feels off about your situation, the prosecution's case is very strong and their remaining efforts are going to tightening their case against you. But if I find enough discrepancies I might be able to poke enough holes in the prosecution's case that even they will have to acknowledge that there's something more to this case. If it works, we might have a solid defense to stand out.”

For the first time since he started talking to her, she stopped picking at her nails. Ennis ducked her head and smiled behind her curtain of hair. "Thank you...thank you so much...Mr. Goodrich, thanks..."

He smiled back. "We have two days to pull this off. I'll find something. Until then you should get some sleep. You deserve it."

She shook her head. "Thank you for the sentiment but I don't sleep well, even in less trying times. Only my therapist’s ever been able to get me to drift off quickly."

"Pills?"

"Oh no, that stuff makes you dependent on it and after a while it just stops working. He uses a bell trick to get me to relax for our sessions, some form of hypnotherapy, and sometimes it works so well I drift off. I get so out of it that I don’t notice how quickly our session went. I can't say how the trick works except it does. John's tried learning it so I could get that good sleep every night but he never seems to get it right." ‘Click’. "I get worried about him the most. If we don't pull this off."

That was a reason that Gil had heard too many times. With other people a part of him screamed, 'Then why would you put people you love through all this in the first place!? Why didn't you think of them before you did this!?', though he restrained himself with a pointed jab to his leg; with Ennis, he found himself asking, "Have you two been married long?"

"For a few months. But we've known each other for a long, long time... Mr. Goodrich, John has always been there for me, even when I've been more than a little difficult to be around. I'd never do all this because I'd never repay him with the pain this is causing him."

Gil nodded. "I'll do what I can. Try to rest anyway. I'll see you later."

"I’ll try. Thank you, good luck and goodbye."

August 1, 11:48

Skinner Belle Building, Parking Lot

After leaving the detention center, Gil texted Ruth to have her look up information on Ennis once Ruth was free. Ruth complained about his timing but said she would look into it once she was back at the office.

Gil loosened his tie. If he wasn't on the job he would have changed into his casual clothes. He'd forgone the leather jacket but he still longed for an air conditioned building and an iced coffee from StarDucks. He swiped at his forehead for what felt like every twenty seconds as he walked around the parking lot.

The young detective overseeing the crime scene, Ben Murphy, had been quick to let him through when Gil mentioned he was with Goodrich&Lesney Co. Murphy told, wearing a look of fear common in many of her victims, that Mrs. Lesney educated him on holding back information, even on a prosecutor’s orders. It made Gil's work easier but he felt second-hand guilt at Murphy’s puppy dog me-good-please-don't-swat-me look and the overuse of ‘sir’.

"I got a copy of the autopsy report for you, sir!"

"Thank you." Gil nodded graciously. "I'll be out of your way in a tick."

"You don’t have to hurry, sir. We've got everything we really need. It's been a simple crime scene: no damaged evidence, no red herrings, only a little bit of lying from the witness, so from our end we've been having a good day. If you're okay with me saying that, sir," he added quickly. “I don’t mean to sound like our side is gloating.”

Gill politely shook his head. In lieu of pinching himself to remind himself that Det. Murphy didn’t mean to rub in salt, Gil glanced over the report:

NAME: Victor Tam

TIME: 12:04AM (approximated from camera timestamp)

CAUSE: Single gun-shot to the chest. [Died from massive internal bleeding, death almost immediate.]

Gil stood where Tam had been. From where Tam had been standing, it was hard to see the camera.

The police markers placed Ennis a few metres away. Unlike Tam, she was in clear view of the witness and camera.

"It looks old," Gil muttered, upon inspecting the camera.

"It is, sir," Murphy quickly supplied. "It's been there since they put the building up years ago. This one tenant, an old carny hypnotist, said something about how it was a 'crappity-crap-piece-of-crappity-cheap-crappy-bureaucratic-short-comings' back when it was first installed and it's the same 'crappity-crap-crap-piece' now. It works, kinda. It's consistently functional but I wouldn't feel comfortable having that thing watch my stuff. Quality is dark and grainy and the lack of lights in the lot doesn't help. I'd consider us - sorry, sir, I mean our side, the police's side, opposition's, sir - lucky that the suspect was lit up so well."

Murphy's words shifted some gears in Gil's head. It struck him what a perfect view of Ennis it must have been for the witness and the camera.

"Can I see the footage?" Gil asked.

"Oh, that...sir..." Gil could see him weighing the options in his head or rather silently mouthing it to himself. Things like autopsy reports were easier to give but the video was their biggest piece of evidence. However, when ‘Lesney’ came up, Murphy nodded, slowly. "It should be okay. Law's lax about this stuff."

"Prosecutor Law is lax?" That didn't fit what Gil knew about him. Perhaps it was a case of 'like senses like'; James Law seemed as polite as Gil seemed but on the job he was iron.

"Not that Law, the younger one. He's a new guy. Not like his dad at all." Gil caught the nervous trill in his laugh.

“How so?”

"Well, sir, Prosecutor Law would be grudging but he’d still let you see it because rules are rules. Law would probably be amused to know you saw it. He's been bored with the case. He'd see this as upping the difficulty."

August 1, 12: 01PM

Skinner Belle Building, Security Room

Gil ignored the watchful guard behind him as he played the video footage. Murphy had stayed long enough to show Gil to the security room and explain the situation to the guard before leaving. Unlike Murphy, the cop had a passing resemblance to a statue; it was easy to forget that Gil wasn't the only one there. The only sounds in the room were the control panel and the humming monitors.

Gil was right: the video view had been perfect. If Ennis had been standing closer to the shadows or if Tam had been wearing less flamboyant clothes, the scene would have been difficult to make out. However, Tam was only on the edge of visibility before and after the shot sent him a few steps back into the wall.

By the third viewing of the video, Gil was scratching under his sleeve. The opposition had every reason to be confident. This would convince most judges even without altering the video for clarity.

At 11:40ish, Ima Maize unlocked the building and went inside. She had been asked by her boss, Dr. Choakumchild, to drop off a file that he needed first thing in the morning. There was a twelve minute lapse before Tam walked across the lit parking lot. After five minutes of waiting, fidgeting, and checking his cellphone, Ennis appeared.

Ennis followed Tam's path. The gun wasn’t visible yet but it would be. Tam didn't notice her at first. He was still playing with the phone when Ennis pulled out the gun. Gil couldn't see Tam's expression when he realized she was there but his hand went up to shield himself before the gun went off.

On the second viewing, Gil zoomed in on Ennis at that moment. She jerked - from the recoil or from she 'woke up' - and then there was about ten seconds before her eyes and mouth went wide, she gagged, and then she screamed. Gil replayed that segment several times and each time he watched it, he was further convinced that something was wrong. He'd met some excellent liars for clients, tricked by too many, but Ennis never struck him as the type.

The rest of the tape followed what Ennis had told him. She dropped the gun and ran, her head whipping around and her mouth moving rapidly, presumably, looking around her and calling for help. After Ennis left, there was nothing of interest on the video until the cops came.

Gil rewound for another view, this time with screen brightening, when a voice lazily drawled, "I'm pretty sure doing the same thing over and over and expecting the answer to change is insanity. Or desperation. They’re close."

That didn't sound like something the cop would have said. It wasn't. The cop was gone and in his place was a younger man wearing a dark pinstriped suit and a prosecutor's badge on his lapel. Gil agreed with Murphy's comment. Physically, except for the eyes there was nothing about the two that Gil could connect. In terms of attitude, one of the things Gil admired about James Law was the lack of smug confidence too many prosecutors had but this Law had it.

"There's always something more," Gil said.

Law snorted. He walked over and watched the still running video. "I've watched this about...four times. Oh, a few grains of static I hadn't noticed before and I can see more blood this time. In short, nothing that changes anything."

Gil hit rewind again, though with a little more force than needed. Law watched Gil with an appraising look. Gil smiled politely and offered his hand. "We haven't met yet. My name is Gil Goodrich. It's a pleasure to meet you. I've worked on some cases with your father before, though I didn't know his son got into the business as well."

"Jaime. I've been hearing that a lot." He shrugged, rolling his eyes. "Just don't call me 'Prosecutor Law', ‘the younger Law', or get me mixed up with my dad and we'll get along better."

"Noted." Gil rewound again. "I apologize for not noticing you earlier. How long were you there?"

"The last two showings you did, the slow-mo one and the close-up playthroughs. What's next? A backwards run?"

"I've been thinking about it."

"Really? You think if you keep looking and praying hard enough something that the security guards, the police, and me somehow missed will suddenly show up and change everything?"

"I haven't ruled out that possibility."

The younger lawyer laughed. "It's a possibility, I'll grant you that, but it won't change anything." He nodded as Ennis walked onscreen. "Ennis Sence shot and killed Victor Tam. There's a video, a witness, a weapon, and her own confession that she was there and holding the gun. There's no other way this is going to end."

"What about motive?"

"What about it?"

Gil fast-forwarded to Ennis’ face after the shooting. He brightened the shot and zoomed in as much as he could without destroying what little quality there was. "She's in shock. Horrified. Does this match the calm, cold manner she had when she walked into the parking lot and pulled out the gun?"

"And maybe she's just a great actress. Or she didn't expect it to be so bloody. Or maybe she finally stopped and thought about the consequences a little too late. Whatever it is, she still did it."

"It doesn't make sense," Gil replied. "If you've interviewed her, her personality is inconsistent with cold-blooded murder, let alone someone who would go after someone she has no connection to."

Law waved his hand dismissively. "Doesn’t stop some people from going off and popping a cap in people they don't know."

"But it's not likely. This situation feels off."

Something flickered behind Law's eyes before he replied. "Too bad 'feelings' and suppositions mean nothing without the evidence to back it up and evidence is all that matters to the system."

"To them," Gil agreed, "but not to me."

The video ran on while they talked. Gil looked at the time stamp and noticed that about ten minutes had fast-forwarded by. He reached to rewind but stopped. He stared at the screen for a long time, acutely aware of his quickening heart, before he rewound half a minute. He didn't think Law saw it but Law noted where he stopped and his posture stopped being lax. Gil hadn't remembered the exact time but he focused on Tam’s body and waited. There was the red jacket, the grainy pixels, and, in particular, that one bright spot-

It moved.

Gil hit pause but his timing was off. He rewound, slowed the shot until the bright spot was back to where he'd first seen it, and paused.

"What’s got your eye?" Law asked.

"That." Gil pointed to the bright spot on Tam's chest, obscured by the blood.

"A pixel grain," Law said dryly.

Gil shook his head. He zoomed in, slowed it, and hit play: the spot moved away, off his body and into the darkness.

If it wasn't for the circumstances or politeness, Gil would have taken satisfaction from the look on Law's face. Law's jaw clenched and he stared hard at Gil's face for a moment before he brusquely fiddled with the controls. He rewound and brightened the screen to near maximum. Most of the shot was a white field, save for some shadows, outlines, and Tam's body. However, a few seconds later a second body’s outline appeared.

Gil let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding; Law's jaw went tighter.

Law slowly lowered the brightness until the figures weren't unintelligible. Even on zoom, there was little they could see of the second figure except that he or she seemed clothed in all black, no skin showing. When Gil hit play again, while most of the image required imagination, it appeared as though the bright spot was picked up by the second figure and carried away.

“Found something you missed.” Gil kept smugness out of his voice but Law still looked sulky.

"It still doesn't change the important stuff." He whipped out his cellphone and walked out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Gil let out a deep sigh and leaned his head against the control panel. Luck, providence, or karma, he had something thanks to it.

And then his phone went off, ‘Suuugar, suuuugar…’

Gil didn't swear but it was tempting. Amy. She must have switched his ringtone last time when he left his phone lying around. He cut it off before it finished the verse, "This is Gil Goodrich. How can I help you?"

The detention center informed him that his client had attempted suicide.

August 1, 7:15PM

General Hospital, Western Hallway

Gil created a handful of cranes while he waited to see Ennis. Murphy and the head detective, Rivera, were inside interrogating Ennis, now that she was stabilized. John was the first to see her but he had a shift he couldn’t get out of, leaving him to ask Gil to keep an eye on Ennis until he came back. It wasn't easy for him to ask so Gil sincerely assured John that he was going to stay there, that he hadn't given up, and there was still things that could be done.

However, his notes on Ennis, what Ruth had found and what Gil had spent the rest of the day calling around and confirming, weighed on him.

"Iced coffee?"

Gil looked up: Law, who was giving his drink a critical look.

"What's wrong with iced?" Gil asked.

"It's not real coffee. It's watered down. Or like drinking it lukewarm," he answered, drinking his own StarDuck's drink. Gil thought he wasn't one to talk when he was glugging an extra-large hot chocolate with what looked like whip, cinnamon and chocolate powder, and honey on top.

Law looked over Gil's creations and raised a brow. Gil shrugged. To his surprise, Law sat across from him. "Shouldn't you join your detectives?"

"They've got it covered. Thanks to some guy making things more difficult, I need a break," he grumbled. "This was simple but now I have to swat off the organized crime division to keep the case, I had to go over everything and talk to some especially annoying people, and the judge refused to delay the court date because apparently the suspect being laid up in the hospital isn't a good enough reason. And then my cat pissed over my notes.”

"I'm very sorry."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, but I thought it would make you feel better."

A comfortable silence fell between them, Law looking over his smiley face notepad and Gil ignoring his folder for an origami mouse. After a while, Gil asked, "Did you figure out what was on Tam?”

Law looked at him dubiously. "You know, it's really tempting to say no. But yeah, we did."

"What was it?"

"A flash drive, attached to a lanyard."

"For what?"

"Hold on, that's three questions," Law said. "How about some answers in return?"

"That's fair." Gil preferred it when he and whoever he was against weren't at each other's throats. He wasn't sure what to make of Jaime Law but if he was willing to cooperate then so was Gil. "After all, it's our jobs to look for the same thing."

"Not really how I see it but let's go with that." He steepled his fingers. "How much do you know about Sence's history?"

Gil saw that coming. He took a deep breath, "She was a kidnapping victim, fifteen years ago. It was a part of a string of kidnappings that occurred over years. Most of the victims were returned to their families once the ransom was paid but some weren't as fortunate. Ennis was rescued but in bad shape, physically and mentally, when they finally brought her home."

"I read about that. The family wasn’t very talkative about the details to us, though. Or on other stuff. Imagine that, being uncooperative to the people who want someone you love locked up and likely on death row." Law let out a bitter laugh. Despite Law's earlier confidence, he hesitated. "You probably had better luck with the family and husband and you seem to have a habit of doing extra digging so here's question two: do you 'feel' like this incident could make her do something crazy years later?”

Gil couldn't pretend to know what an incident like that could do to an eight year old kid but the family had painted a grim picture of what it might have been like. However, Gil did know first-hand how much one major incident could define a person in ways they might not even think about for years. When he applied what he found out to what he already knew, habits like her nail clicking, John’s protectiveness of her, and other things she'd said, things made painful sense. Though there were things he could 'feel' about Ennis, this conversation’s context made him apprehensive.

"It's possible," he replied, slowly. "She might behave and think differently but homicidal ‘crazy’ doesn’t suit her. And according to her parents, Ennis has been in therapy at the Skinner Belle building ever since she came back. You would think if those thoughts were there they would have been dealt with or noted.

"My turn: what does this have to do with the victim?"

"Actually, it should be my turn but I'll pass." Law took a long gulp of his drink. “Organized crime said Tam worked for a big league criminal group called the Yesterwind – by the time you get to them they’re yesterday’s news. Tam contacted the cops about trading vital information that could expose everything - money trails, leaders, employees, accomplices, jobs, you name it he snitches it - for protection. I'd give more fucks for OC's loss if they weren't being dicks."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"I'm getting to it." He took a suspiciously long sip. He continued, matter-of-fact, "One of the many, many things Yesterwind's been suspected of was that string of kidnappings. I'll spare you the next question: there's a good chance Tam was one of the kidnappers and if he was then we suddenly have a 'why' in this case. And you know what that means."

Gil did: proof, weapon, opportunity, and now motive. The opposition now had everything they needed to convict Ennis with little to no doubts in the official records. In the hands of another prosecutor, the suicide attempt would be vindication of her guilt, proof of guilty conscious.

"There's still one more day," Gil said. "There's still the second figure on the video."

"If we find him before then and if OC doesn't get first dibs," Law said. "It's not going to change to the court that Sence killed Tam."

"But something might still change if I keep pushing. There's something more to Ennis' situation. Someone has to look into it if the system is too busy looking for ways to railroad her and be done with her case."

Law snorted. "You really take the 'defend your client no matter what' part of being a defense attorney seriously. At least you don't seem to be the lying, twisty type."

"I could say the same about you," Gil said mildly, keeping his hands busy by finishing the mouse.

Down the hallway, Ennis' door opened. Detectives Murphy and Rivera exited and talked at the door, faces grim. Law sighed, "Break's over. Oh well."

Gil nodded. He pocketed the mouse and picked up the cranes. Before Law could leave, Gil said, "You said that you asked the judge to push the trial back. You already have all the evidence you need to end the trial immediately and the judge won't hesitate to sentence Ennis in absentia. You don't need the delay, unless you feel like there's something else about this case that needs looking into too."

Law stopped. Gil couldn't see his face but he caught the tension in his shoulders.

Down the hallway, Murphy and Rivera spotted them. Rivera waved to him and Law's posture instantly relaxed. Law looked back to Gil, the smug confidence back. "I just hate loose ends. I hate getting the consolation prize when there might be a bigger one I could lose out on."

Gil chuckled. "Fair enough."

“Here.” Law handed him a card with his name and number. “Get a ‘feeling’ or find one of those things everyone somehow missed again, let me know.”

“Thank you. I’ll text you my number later.”

He waved lazily and left Gil.

Law might not have the same intentions as Gil but their intentions had them chasing after the same thing: answers to what was wrong with this case. That was good enough for Gil.

As Law, Murphy, and Rivera went their way, Gil approached Ennis' door, rubbed the silver cross, and knocked.

August 1, 7:38PM

General Hospital, Ennis’ Room

Ennis had looked worse for wear before, but now she looked as though she'd gotten through twelve rounds with no breaks. She looked up, hope in her eyes, when the door opened but hope turned to slight disappointment when she saw it was him. She still managed a half-smile, "Mr. Goodrich. I was expecting you sooner or later."

She shuffled her arms underneath the covers of the blanket but not before Gil saw the bandaging and scratched up skin around her nails. He focused on her face. "Hello, Ennis. I would have been in here earlier but your husband and the detectives came ahead of me."

"No, I understand. I've been a popular woman for the last few days." She said sardonically.

Gil sat in the chair near her bed. "I brought you something. These aren't much but it seemed appropriate."

"Oh my, these are amazing..." She moved one arm from the covers but when she didn't, Gil put the origami cranes he'd made on the table. It warmed his heart that the smile she gave him looked more genuine. "You made these yourself?"

"It's a hobby of mine. It’s my stress relief."

"It's a very productive strategy. Thank you"

"You’re welcome." They remained that way long enough for Gil to realize their smiles were now just for show. There wasn’t much longer they could act like everything was okay. Gil’s face became grave. "I'd ask if you were alright but that’s an obvious answer."

"You wouldn't think so with how many times I've been asked that." Her smile dropped. "Fortunately for you, everyone else has warmed me up for you. You can't ask me what they already haven't and... I don't think it'll be what you're looking for, especially not you."

"Because it's unbelievable?"

"Yes but worse. Much worse for our side," she said quietly. "Everything keeps getting worse."

He couldn't hear the 'click' but he saw her arms shift under the covers and Ennis wince from the movement. That nail picking was going to get worse and Gil was sorry he was going to have a part in that. He asked, "What happened after I left you?"

He heard the ‘click-click’ that time. "Do you really mean that or do you mean why did I do it?"

"Both. Whatever you feel like you're willing to tell me, I'll listen."

"You say that but I don't know how you could believe this any of this." She inhaled deeply. When she continued, it was matter-of-fact, as though she'd said it over a million times (though it might have been close enough from earlier interrogations), "There's not much to tell. I talked to John, didn’t get that coffee but the thought was touching, and then I tried resting. I was exhausted but I told you how it is, I can't sleep easily. When lying there didn't work I started counting sheep, ceiling tiles, water droplets, phone rings...”

Fidget. ‘Click-click’. Fidget. The words came out fast now. “…And I woke up and everyone was holding onto me and telling me I needed to stay with them and I didn't understand why." Her voice pitched. She collected herself but the clicking increased as she spoke. "It was like what happened that night but this time the blood was on me. I don't even remember seeing that nail sticking out or digging my arms across it or anything. It hurt so much when I woke so why wouldn't I have stopped? I knew people were fighting for me and I believed in them so why would I give up? It makes no sense."

‘Click-flick-click-click-‘

Gil reached for her hands through the covers. She averted her eyes. Gil said, gently, "I believe you. I don't believe someone who earnestly told me that she wouldn’t commit suicide would suddenly change her mind a few hours later. You don't feel like someone who would take that course of action."

"I'm not." She sniffed, keeping her eyes downward. Gil didn't draw attention to the wet tracts forming on her face. "I'm not. I wouldn't think of shooting someone either but I did that too. I'm not trying to but I keep making myself look worse and worse."

He let her have a moment's reprieve. Her fingers were twitching under his hold but Gil kept them from doing more damage. Gil wished he could say it was just for comfort but it was also because he knew he was about to tear the emotional wounds wider open.

"Do you remember what I told you this morning? I'm willing to give you every chance if you're open with me. You've been very honest and helpful so far but I have a difficult question I have to ask you. Did you know how Victor Tam related to your past before the night of the murder?"

Several droplets fell. "...es."

"Why didn't you tell me before? Or the police?"

"The police know now," she answered. “I didn't before because I told my previous lawyer and he told me my situation looked bad enough without handing the prosecution a motive on top of everything else and that I should keep it to myself. He said they would twist things and make the situation look even worse and I went along with it because facing first degree murder and the death penalty already doesn’t make me look good. But now not telling’s gone and vindicated every disbelief they've had."

"It was bad advice," Gil said, quietly. "Now that the police know, I need to know more about Tam and you. When did you see him again? How did you even know it was him?"

She choked on a bitter, broken laugh between her sobbing. "You never forget the face of someone like that. You can read case files about me and the others kids, those can retell it better than I ever want to. Truthfully, I'd blocked most of the experience out but I could never get rid of Him from my memory. Even when I got away, all He needed were nightmares or a whiff of the right brand of cigarettes or being grabbed the wrong way and He would be back in my head and I'd have to try and try all over again to push Him back out.

“You can’t – I didn’t – get over it, I just learned to manage a bit better. Years later, I can still barely get any sleep without being afraid that I'm going to wake up in that bag in that truck again. I still have to see Dr. Choakumchild every now and then and I scratch my nails to the point of bleeding so I don't say or do anything crazy on the worst days but that was becoming less and less – until now, of course. I could go days without thinking about Him.

"And then all He had to do was walk past me and He was back in my head again and I couldn't push him out again. I knew He was out there but what if He remembered me or knew who I was and why did He have to come back?"

"Why didn't you tell the police then?"

"I thought about it. I wanted to. I even talked myself into remembering this was someone who could come and go and had avoided capture for years but when I was honest with myself all could think was I didn't want to bring Him back into my life. It was selfish but I know how these cases can be complicated and I didn't want to be dragged back into that whirlwind again or worse, be dragged in but still have him walk. I just wanted to go back to 'managing' and not being scared again. I wanted him out of my life! But you have to believe me when I tell you this - please, please believe me like you've been kind enough to so far - when I bought that gun recently it wasn't to shoot him..." She swallowed. "Not unless the worst happened, which I wasn't truly expecting, but just in case. It was for protection, something to help me feel better, I swear."

"I believe you. That's what I'm here for." Gil squeezed her hands. "So only your previous attorney knew before today?”

"No…yes, but not exactly because I used hypotheticals and said it was my nightmares again. I knew buying the gun wasn't a sane thing, I'm not that far in my grief, so I booked a meeting with my psychiatrist." She managed a small, genuine smile. "Client confidentiality meant I could safely vent and not worry about John going vigilante and I could get a real rest, for once. But I suppose if this keeps getting worse I'll be getting as real a sleep as there is..."

"It doesn't have to," Gil said. "I would have told you earlier but there are leads out there the police and I still have to look at. Law is interested in them too. There's still time for something to change."

Ennis looked up at him. Her crying had died down as they talked but fresh tears welled. "I don't know what's harder. Not having hope or having you keep trying to give it to me." She swiped at her eyes. "You're a good man, Mr. Goodrich, and ridiculously nice. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted me to fire you and save you from having a case this one-sided on your record."

"Too late for that," he replied, smiling reassuringly. "I've been told that 'barely salvageable cases' are my thing by friends."

"This fits that description a little too well for comfort," Ennis laughed. "How many of those 'barely salvageable' cases do you actually salvage?"

"Enough," he said. "Those cases have proved it's not impossible."

She looked at the cranes on her table. "Maybe I should learn. They say if you make a thousand you get a wish and we could use one right now."

"I could teach you before I go," Gil offered. "You shouldn't strain yourself but I know simpler ones for beginners."

"That's alright. If I get tired I'll have John make some too. It'd be good for him to have a stress outlet too."

'Riiiing'.

Gil reached for his cell. He'd switched it back to a boring-but-thank-goodness-it's-not-the-Gavinners ringtone. However, before he picked up, he noted Ennis' reaction: at the ring, she suddenly perked up for the briefest instant. She repeated the action when the second ring went off.

"Why're you doing that?" Gil asked.

"Doing what? I'm not doing anything, not this time, I'm really not."

However, at the third ring she perked again. "That. Hold absolutely still, it's that."

She looked bewildered but obeyed. Even then, she didn't seem to notice what she’d done. Before the fourth ring, he hit 'end call' and his phone sent an automatic text to apologize and say that he would call back. "Mr. Goodrich? How long do I stay like this? What's happening?"

"You can relax now," Gil said calmly when his mind was anything but. This was the one gear making all the other gears in Gil’s head spin. "I have to make a phone call. I can't promise anything yet but our case might just have moved up from barely salvageable."

"Really!? Just now!? How!?"

"I'll explain once I know. I'll be back as soon as I'm finished."

"Alright... I'll see you then but I'm expecting some sort of an explanation the second you know."

August 1, 7:54PM

General Hospital, Western Hallway

He walked a fair distance away before pulling out his phone and called the only person he knew who could help them right now. A lazy drawl responded, "Who is it? If you want me to do a survey I'm not interested."

"Law, its Goodrich."

"Oh, that was quick." He sounded more interested. "So elaborate."

"You need to check the phone records," Gil said. "Ennis heard a phone go off several times on the night of the murder and right before the suicide attempt."

"And?"

"A bit earlier, my phone went off and she reacted strangely, like she was waiting for something, without even realizing it. The ringing has something to do with her, it’s like a trigger." There was a noncommittal sound on the other end. "Law, you hate loose ends. This is one of them."

"Maybe. Putting you on hold."

Gil mashed his hand against his forehead. Minutes crawled by without an answer. He wished he had something better to keep his hands busy with; pacing was less satisfying than doing something. He was starting to debate hanging up and trying again when the line clicked.

"We checked and we found something interesting," Law said, all laziness gone. "Three calls were made to the Sence apartment that night within seconds of each other. They all came from the Skinner Belle building. We followed the calls from the building and additional calls were made to both Tam and Maize in the same night. Which line it was we don't know yet but it's easy to pick out who-"

"Dr. Choakumchild," Gil said, quietly.

"I wanted to say that. The doc's not picking up right now but we'll be bringing him in for a nice, friendly chat in the interrogation room."

"Good. That's good to hear."

Law snorted. "You make 'good' sound as 'good' as my cat being run over."

If Law had taken the time to completely piece things together, the bits that mattered to Ennis' situation, he'd sound less enthusiastic too, Gil thought. "Law, based on the answers you get from him, how open would you be to making a deal with Ennis?"

"We'll talk about it later. Need the evidence first before any of that."

"Call me when you have it."

"Right. Talk to you later."

Law hung up, leaving Gil with a bittersweet feeling. He needed to keep his hands busy, very busy, or he was going to go crazy. He was out of paper to fold so he flipped through his folder without seeing the pages.

Since the beginning, he had promised many things but he never said he would get her the 'not guilty' verdict; he was pragmatic enough to not make promises he had no guarantee he could keep. Technically, if this worked out as he hoped it would, she would be 'not guilty' but she wouldn't come out of this without some consequence. Gil didn't have all the pieces but he had enough to make a make-shift theory.

Choakumchild was the culprit, or the man behind Ennis. Gil didn't know how he fit into it completely but Gil had a hunch that if the authorities dug deep enough they would find ties to Yesterwind.

Ennis was counted as an accessory to murder. Choakumchild had been treating her for years through use of hypnotherapy so she’d be susceptible to hypnosis. Gil's knowledge of hypnosis was limited to a few classes in psychology and watching a hypnotist's show but the behavior Ennis was demonstrating could be attributed to post-hypnotic suggestions. In the show Gil had watched, most of the volunteers were fully aware and focused while few others didn't remember what they were doing. The latter type, those who experienced an amnesiac state while hypnotized, were a minority and Ennis seemed to be one of them but to an extreme degree.

However, Gil knew one key thing about hypnosis that Law or the courts wouldn't miss. Contrary to movies, hypnosis couldn't work on someone truly unwilling. Hypnosis couldn't force someone to believe or do anything they did not want to do.

Gil believed Ennis when she said she didn’t expect she’d have to shoot him but maybe deep down there was a part of her that wanted to do it. All Choakumchild had to do was manipulate that urge, place the suggestions, and set everything up for the crime. With standard short investigation times, who would take the time to look into other avenues or focus on the discrepancies that could be felt when there was an obvious culprit?

Gil had to take his hands away from the folder and firmly clasped them together, hard enough to hurt but enough to keep him from hitting the wall and screaming. He hated people sometimes. Everyone may have their motives and circumstances and a right to be defended but their actions made him angry.

He heard steps down the hallway. John was back, he must have managed to get out of his shift. He didn't even look at Gil as he walked by but Gil didn't take it that he was avoiding him. The man was more focused on his wife than anything.

Ennis would be happy. Gil was sure that when she had looked disappointed earlier, it was more that it wasn't John than the fact it was Gil. Ennis was waiting for Gil too, now, to let her know if she had a chance. And she did now, he was sure of it.

The thought made that urge to hit and scream die down.

Gil gave John and Ennis a half an hour before he went to update them.

August 3, 9:50PM

District Court

Defendant Lobby No. 2

Gil's wilder days had taught him two main things about major bruises: ice it right away and don't prod at it because it spreads bleeding under the skin and it’ll hurt more. Gil had never been good about the latter one.

He winced again as he pressed down on it.

"Mr. Goodrich, I'm sure you're not supposed to be doing that," Ennis said.

"You're right, I'm not. But it's difficult not to."

Ennis tsk'd and looked at him crossly. Gil couldn't say she wasn't sympathetic. She’d been very apologetic at the time when John clocked him. "You can help me with this. It's a more productive stress reliever."

Ennis had rows of cranes, not as neat as Gil's but getting there with practice, lined up in front of her with a pad of multi-coloured paper beside her. Gil smiled but shook his head and opened his folder. "I should refresh the details before we head in."

Law didn't get back to him about Choakumchild until the next day. Thanks to the data recovered from the flash drive and Choakumchild's breakdown they had everything.

The string of kidnappings had actually stretched out much longer than the known years and fulfilled two purposes. The first was the ransoming of middle-class/upper-class families but the second was the picking and creation of sleepers. When Ennis returned home, an accomplice apart of the case had referred her to Choakumchild for long-term psychiatric help. Choakumchild, another accomplice and Ennis' handler, was assigned to monitor her and refresh conditioning. Ennis hadn't been aware that she had been running errands, making drop offs, and other tasks for Yesterwind over the years.

Much of Yestwind's success lay with those like Ennis: with the right conditioning and a simple trigger Yesterwind could have agents with no official ties to the group or memories of their deeds or inclinations of guilt or betrayal. If he or she were caught there was still nothing that could link the individual to Yesterwind concretely and if Yesterwind needed a patsy they could create one. In light of this, it changed the opposition’s stance on Ennis considerably but the question had still been on what sort of charge and sentence Ennis would get for her actions.

John took the news as well as Gil had predicted. He accused Gil of wanting to take the easy route and Ennis admit her guilt when she was the victim, until Gil explained to both him and Ennis the full extent to the situation they were in and how much of a jump it was from where they had started. The couple weren't completely happy with it but they seemed to be willing to trust Gil. John had apologized for hitting Gil and had run to grab ice and Ennis hadn't been picking at her nails as much so Gil assumed they were ‘managing’.

"There. One hundred. Do you think that's close enough?" Ennis asked, with loose smile on her face.

"Maybe. It's a good number," Gil replied.

She added the last one to her collection. "I wish I could have made more. I was hoping to get that wish in because every little bit counts and it was a nice goal to aim for."

"It can't hurt to wish anyway."

"Maybe the universe will take an IOU. The wish can come in advance and I can make the rest after the trial. In whatever capacity," she added, more subdued.

Gil could understand her anxiousness. The unexpected was always a factor, even if their chances were tentatively good. Law had agreed on a bargain with Gil and they were going to be working together to make it palatable to the judge. They'd get Ennis' charges and sentence as low as they could get but as the culprit in Victor Tam's murder they both agreed on 'Not Guilty'. There was still the chance the judge may reject the deal but she never struck Gil as that rigid.

Gil couldn't promise that she might not serve some jail time or that something out of the blue wouldn’t come and ruin everything. He could promise, "No matter what happens in there, I'll be in there with you. I’ll make sure your voice is heard."

Ennis smiled, genuine and beautiful. "I know you will. You've been the perfect employee, Mr. Goodrich."

The guard signalled to Gil to inform him it was time to head in. Ennis handed him the last crane. “For luck.”

Gil didn’t believe in beings out there that would grant wishes or favors, let alone objects that would get their attention. He could appreciate the sentiment in things like the crane and the silver cross, though, and the feelings from the people who had given them to him. Ennis believed in him and she had hope. Gil would do everything to show it wasn’t misplaced.

Criminals like Choakumchild made him angry but it was people like Ennis that made him become a defense attorney.

THE PYRRHIC TURNABOUT-END