Chapter 80

Steeve was asked to call his next witness, which was William, but he suddenly had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was extremely nervous at that point. His attempts at painting a negative picture for the jury through character witnesses had backfired in spectacular fashion, and he was sure the Bakers, his own clients, hated him for the humiliation he had put them through. His confidence rallied just enough for him to beg for an early adjournment so that he could get his next witness properly in order. He didn’t say this, of course. What he said was he needed some time to get his “notes in order following certain revelations” – he needed to stay professional, or at least seem so.

John was asked if the adjournment would satisfy him. He shrugged as if he couldn’t care less, and said, “If it pleases the court, Your Honour.”

Mrs Abbott checked her notes and decided that they could afford the missed time, but glared at Steeve. “Make the time count, counsellor.”

Court was adjourned.

The crowd dissipated quietly and Steeve snuck out unnoticed. He told the Bakers outside that he’d be round soon to chat with William once more but he just needed some time alone to gather his thoughts. The Bakers, being awesome, told him not to worry about a thing and that they’d see him later on.

On the drive home, Steeve reflected on his failed attempts in the courtroom thus far. He was starting to wonder why he ever tried to start with character witnesses and not just jump into the hard evidence. Then he remembered that his “hard evidence” wouldn’t be understood by anyone but him, what with the language barrier, and that maybe he was just stalling because he was scared of what everyone would think; what everybody’s reactions would be. He banged on his steering wheel in frustration, cursing John and that little punk son of his with each thrashing. He had to commend John, however – which annoyed him immensely – on a fine job at playing defender. Steeve had seen it many times on television: The burden always lay upon the prosecution to prove guilt. It was sometimes a heavy burden, sometimes not. The defence only had to pick apart the prosecution’s case – dig enough holes in it – to get it thrown out or at least get a favourable conclusion. This would, in turn, mean having potentially dangerous people walking the streets once again, which made the prosecution’s job just that little bit more stressful. Hell, the defence didn’t even have to prove innocence. They only needed enough holes in the story to place doubt in a single juror’s eyes, causing him or her to say, “Hmm, you know, I’m not so sure he actually did it.” And just like that, a hung jury is formed.

Of course, this case wasn’t as dire as, say, a murder trial, where Steeve was fighting to keep a maniac off the streets, but that didn’t matter to him. There was a wrong that needed to be righted – Is that a word? And he was determined to make believers out of the jury. Make them believe beyond a reasonable doubt. But in order to do that, he needed concrete evidence. Concrete testimony. He knew where to find it, and knew what he needed to do; if only he could get over his stage fright. He pulled over and fished out his cell phone.

Maggie answered immediately. “Oh, hi! How is it going?”

“Hey, Mags, not good. I asked for an early adjournment. John tore through Ronnie again this morning and I begged for extra time to get over the feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

“Oh, dear …”

“Of course I didn’t tell them that. I told them I need to get some things in order. An animal’s testimony, to be more specific. An animal’s, Mags. An animal’s.”

“Are you OK?”

“I’m a little nervous, to be honest.”

“Totally understandable. What you’re about to do will be puzzling to most, if not all.”

Steeve sighed. “I know what it’s going to look like. I can see myself there, being laughed at. It’s ridiculous. I’ve never had such a large audience.”

“How many people are there already? How do they fit?”

“There are a lot, maybe 3,000 …”

“Ha-ha!”

“And they hardly fit.”

“This is your stage, Steeve. Show off a little. You’ll be the envy in everyone’s eyes when they realise your talents.”

“Thanks. How’s work? Can’t believe they called you in on your time off.”

“Yeah, this place falls apart without me. Everything is fine now. There was a disturbance in the chimps’ enclosure. A lot of faeces hurled around.”

Steeve giggled. “Yeah, it’s what they do, apparently. There will be one particular culprit. Can’t remember his name. The others complained about him and his turd tossing to me when I was there to see Barnaby and Frederick.”

“Extraordinary.”

“OK, well, I’m going to see Seymour now. He wanted to stay home this morning so I’m going to surprise him by returning home early.”

“Sounds wonderful. Will I see you later for some tea?”

“Definitely. See you later.”

When Steeve pulled up he noticed Seymour hopping up in place, trying to catch something above his head. Upon closer inspection, he still couldn’t quite figure out what his dog was doing. “You OK, boy?”

“Oh, hey! You’re home! What’s the time? Have I been out here all day?”

“No, it is early. Case was adjourned while I get my life together.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Yes, let’s go inside. You want a biscuit?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“I don’t know, I heard that somewhere. I think it’s supposed to mean like, duh! You know? As if your question was rhetorical, I guess. I don’t know. Crazy squirrels.”

“Be careful who you talk to out here.”

The two of them went inside and Steeve put on the kettle. He gave Seymour two of the special biscuits Ronnie had suggested. “Try chewing them next time, boy!”

“I did, I think. Can I have another?”

“Sure, but only one more. I don’t want you losing your appetite for your food.”

Seymour looked over at his bowl. “Oh, that stuff, never. That stuff is better than these biscuits.”

“Well, I’ve never seen you eat your food as enthusiastically as you scoff these down.”

“Well, that’s got nothing to do with the flavour. The biscuits are new, which is exciting. And, and, they’re shaped like bones! I know it isn’t really a bone, but I just get too excited and forget … to care.”

“Wow, I am learning so much from you. You know, we humans really don’t know a lot about your species.”

Seymour stopped panting and his tail stopped, dead. “What do you mean your species?”

“Wait, what? I didn’t …”

“Ha-ha! Just yanking you, is all.”

“Funny.”

“So, what’s on your mind, champ?” said Seymour as the two got comfortable in their favourite spot. It was chilly out so Steeve lit the fireplace.

“It’s my next witness,” said Steeve, sipping his tea and sinking into his recliner. “The goat. An animal, Seymour, an animal!”

“What are you worrying about? Making believers out of everyone?”

“Something like that,” mused Steeve. “More along the lines of making a believer out of Mrs Abbott and the jury. Oh, and not being ridiculed by the masses.”

“I see … If only there were a way …” Seymour paused for a few seconds as if deep in thought.

“What? What is it?”

Seymour dived down to lick his crotch. Upon resurfacing, he said, “Sorry. Didn’t know if it was itchy or not. You know? It’s like having that sensation right before a sneeze comes along. Is it? Isn’t it? Maybe it’s not … And, BAM! A sneeze … Same as my crotch.”

“That … is a lovely story, old pal.”

The pair of them chatted away into the night and Steeve decided that he needed Seymour with him in court as moral support. He called up Mrs Abbott and explained that it was vital to his case. She already wasn’t impressed with a farm animal being in her living room, but figured a dog would be less filthy and so agreed to fuel the circus.

“Are you ready for this, Mr Heath?” she asked.

Steeve knew what she meant. “I am, yes.”

“Good. See you in the morning.”

Mrs Abbott hung up and dialled a new number. “Good evening,” she said into the receiver, “I have a sensational story for you. Can you be here in the morning?”

She went on to give her address, which, due to contractual stipulations, I cannot give out to you lot. Sorry.