SEVEN YEARS AGO
Six months, four weeks, and two days was how long it had taken to find a suitable jury for Walter Hardy's trial. He was a renowned cat burglar who had stolen over 4.4 million dollars worth of jewellery. Of those 4.4 million, only 4.2 million were recovered, and the rest had been declared missing by the state of New York.
"Court is now in session. All rise for the honourable Judge Bentley." a male bailiff announced, and everyone rose, waiting for the Judge, a tall thin woman with greying hair and piercing blue eyes to take her seat.
"Be seated." she said, and everyone sat back down. "We will now hear the opening statements from the plaintiff, Maxwell Deirdre, and the defendant, Walter Hardy.
"Ladies and Gentleman of the jury, this man, Walter Hardy, has been stealing from our beloved city of New York for over three years. My client saw Mr Hardy break into his jewellery store and steal a priceless diamond necklace which we later found in Mr Hardy's possession. By witness statements corroborating with my clients story. I intend to prove Mr Hardy guilty on all accounts, and put him away where he belongs for a very long time. That is all your honour." the prosecutor sat down, slicked back hair never moving an inch even as he moved around the courtroom before returning to his seat.
The next man to stand, the defence, was equally well-dressed, and he cleared his throat before speaking. "Ladies and Gentleman of the jury, my client, Walter Hardy is not a criminal. He has two children he needs to look after. He has never gotten a speeding ticket or a warning, why would he break a clean record now after all these years. He has an alibi that can be confirmed by his two daughters who were home at the time. That is all your honour."
"Walter Elias Hardy you have been charged with robbery, assault, resisting arrest, and aggravated robbery, which would result in twenty one years in prison. How do you plead."
"Innocent." Papa said, and Judge Bentley nodded.
"Would the prosecution call a witness?" the Judge asked, and the prosecutor, a man named Alan Guiles, stood.
"The prosecution calls Maxwell Deirdre to the stand." he said, leaning forward to speak into the mic.
"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole and nothing but the truth?" the same bailiff from before asked, holding out a bible. Mr Deirdre put his hand on it, raising the other one.
"I do." he sat down, and Guiles walked over, straightening his tie.
"Mr Deirdre can you tell us what happened on the night of September the Fourteenth of 2009?" he asked, leaning on the witness stand casually.
"Well, I was closing up shop a little late because I had some paperwork to do, bills and such when I heard a noise from the front. That was around ten fifty nine. I waited a few minutes when I heard another noise so I went out to see what it was and I saw the defendant climbing out the front window, which was shattered. That was around eleven o' four. The window braking was the noise I heard, the second one I assumed was the case for the necklace. He had the necklace in hand and a black ski mask on."
"Well, if the defendant had the mask on how could you tell who it was?" Guiles asked, and I saw Felicia frown.
"Oh, so you see, I chased after the defendant to get the necklace back and I caught him in an alley two blocks away. We struggled, and when he dropped the necklace, I grabbed his mask off." Mr Deirdre explained.
"And can you point out who you saw?" Guiles asked, and Felicia gritted her teeth.
"Mr Hardy." the pasty balding man on the stand said, pointing to our father.
A few people on the jury nodded, and Felicia looked about ready to punch someone and cry at the same time. I didn't know it yet, but that was only the beginning of what killed my father and eventually, my sister.
000
The next day, at the next session, the defendant called a witness first, standing and addressing the judge.
"The Defence calls Gwendoline Hardy to the stand." a few people gasped at this and I stood, glancing over at Felicia, who simply nodded. I walked up to the stand, climbing the small set of stairs to the witness stand.
"Can I swear on something other than a bible? I'm not religious." I requested, and the judge stared at me. "Can I swear on a hole puncher?" I asked, causing several people to gasp again, and a couple of people to laugh. The judge stared for a moment, before nodding to the bailiff.
"Get this young lady a hole punch." she instructed, and I lit up, smiling at her.
"Thank you your honour." I said, waiting patiently for my hole puncher. The bailiff came back, holding said office supply in hand. He held it out, and I placed my hand on it, holding my other hand in the air.
"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?" the bailiff asked, waiting for a reply.
"I do." I said, sitting down and nearly disappearing from view. I ended up sitting on my knees and scooting the chair closer to the front facing wall.
The defence lawyer stood, approaching me with a small friendly smile on his face. "Miss Hardy." he greeted, and I waved. "Can you describe to me the night in question - September fourteenth?"
"Papa picked me up from school like normal, and then we went home. We had cookies and watched some TV, Brooklyn 99, before I did my school work. Later, Felicia got home, and went to her room to do work. Then Papa read to me, we're reading Percy Jackson together. Once Felicia finished her work we watched more TV then had dinner. After that I brushed my teeth, flossed them and went to bed." I finished, shifting on the chair.
"Thank you. No more questions, your honour." the defence lawyer said, walking back over to my Papa and sitting down next to him. I waved, and he smiled, waving back.
Guiles stood up and approached the stand, attempting a kind smile but I stared, unimpressed. "Ms Hardy. What time would you say you and your father finished watching TV?" he asked, and I thought back.
"About two thirty. I know cause Felicia gets out at the two forty five. I know Papa didn't leave because Felicia needed help with her math work." I answered, and Guiles' jaw tightened.
"Now, what time did you go to bed?" he asked, leaning one elbow on the stand.
"Eight." I said immediately and Guiles sneered triumphantly, walking away before I could finish.
"Enough time for Mr Hardy to sneak out and steal the necklace." he said, hands on hips and he approached the jury. I raised my hand, holding my breath so my cheeks puffed out. "Er, yes? Ms Hardy." he said, finally taking notice.
"You didn't let me finish." I explained and his lip curled. "I go to bed at eight and Felicia goes to bed at ten. Or at least I was supposed to go to bed at eight. I stayed up late drawing a picture for Papa." I said, and a few people put a hand to their heart. "I was up till around ten or eleven because I had to hide behind the door when Papa opened it. He does that every night around the same time, eleven. You said my Papa went and stole that guy's necklace between ten thirty and eleven o' four. I looked up how far away our apartment is from his jewellery store and had Felicia walk there with me. It took about fifteen minutes without running, and it would have taken ten even in a car." I stated, and Guiles started, jaws clamped together angrily. "Sorry. I spoke for a long time." I apologised, before looking to the judge. "Can I go back to my seat, your honour?" I asked.
"Is the prosecution done?" the Judge asked, and Guiles nodded.
"Yes your honour." he said, walking back over to his seat and sitting down. I stood, hurrying back to my seat and sitting down.
"The defence would like to call Felicia Hardy to the stand." the defence lawyer said, and Felicia stood, walking away from me.
After that day's trial ended, the lawyer told us there was no way he could be convicted, and we believed him. The final day before sentencing arrived, and as we walked into the courtroom, everyone's eyes followed Felicia and I as we made our way to our seats in the front row. For the past week and a half, the paparazzi had been obsessing over every single thing Felicia and I did, even going so far as to wait outside our schools. We took our seats for the final day, the hard backed chairs never growing more comfortable. I had been called to the stand a second and third time over the past few days to re-tell my story, and to the frustration of Alan Guiles, it never changed.
I expected today to be the same, more witnesses called, and evidence provided. I was in no way prepared for what happened next. Before the day's trial could start, Guiles pulled the judge aside, presumably to ask a question. I watched with intense curiosity as Judge Bentley listened, before giving a curt nod.
"All rise for the honourable Judge Bentley." the Bailiff announced, and everyone in the courtroom rose.
"Be seated." she said, and everyone sat down.
Jumping right in, Guiles leaned forward to speak into the microphone. "The prosecution would like to enter this video as evidence. Exhibit C: security footage from the alley next to Gold's Pawn shop." the defence lawyer muttered something, flipping through one of his binders before speaking.
"Objection." he began, but Judge Bentley knew where he was going.
"Overruled."
Handing the video to the bailiff, Guiles sent a triumphant smile our way, almost as if he was gloating on how he'd just doomed our father to twenty one years in prison.
The courtroom was silent as the black and white tape played, no sound accompanying the fight. Just as Deirdre had explained, the two men on the screen struggled, and when one of them bent to pick up the necklace, the other pulled the mask off to reveal my Papa standing there.
Loud gasps echoed throughout the courtroom and chatter broke out. The defence lawyer turned to my dad, shaking his head sadly.
I didn't really register what happened next. Judge Bentley said something, and the jury left via a side door. My father put his head in his hands as our defence lawyer rubbed his back. When the jury filed back in and sat down, Judge Bentley called upon one of the jury members, a tall thin woman who looked to be in her thirties with blonde hair and blue eyes to read the sentencing.
"Guilty." that was the only word I heard her say. One of the bailiffs walked over, handcuffing Papa and leading him away. Felicia and I stood, following a second bailiff as the court was dismissed. As we passed the members of the jury I glared through watery eyes and every single member, and only some had the decency to look guilty themselves.
We were given two minutes to say our goodbyes, before a new lawyer came in with the news we were to be taken care of by our elderly neighbours, Thelma and Edward, since we had no other living relatives fit to take care of us.
For the next few weeks we were still swamped with paparazzi wanting to know if our father actually committed the crime he had been put away for. We lived with our neighbours for three years before they died, and we were allowed to move back into our old apartment. Fortunately, nothing had been stolen or moved, and we were lucky the power, water and wifi still worked.
Barely a month had passed since Thelma and Edward died when we received the news about our father. He had been shivved by another inmate, one who coincidentally knew Alan Guiles, and was en route to the hospital. Felicia was eighteen and I was ten, turning eleven in a few months, when this happened.
When we got there, we were allowed in by the police officer standing guard by the door but as soon as we saw him we knew it was too late. Nothing about his wounds gave it away, we just knew. Felicia and I stayed by his side until he died, and the endless beeping or the flatline chased us from the room.
Very few people attended the funeral, not even our mother showed up, but we couldn't be mad at her for it. Alastair Smythe, and Doreen Green had attended, as they were two of Felicia's oldest friends. They had been there for us throughout the trial which we had both been glad for, having us over for dinner, making sure we were doing okay, and attending the funeral.
For two years after that, until I was thirteen, I blamed Alan Guiles for the death of my father, never once considering my dad could have been guilty.
It had taken months after I transferred to MSST for people to stop muttering about my father's court case, and now people would no doubt bring it up again, something I didn't want to deal with. Not on top of Felicia's death.
Felicia had been there for me throughout the whole ordeal, part of the reason I never broke down or went insane. Now that she was gone, I didn't know what to do, and old tendrils of rage against Alan Guiles bubbled back up.