Seeking Truth
Author: Bismarck
A New Case
“Good morning, Luke. How are you doing today?”
“Mornin' Lise. Doing pretty well...still smarting a bit from that last case though. That's a very lovely dress, by the way.”
“Thanks, but don't change the subject, Luke. You did very well that case, and I'm sure you'll win your next one. Here, I picked up a little something for you this morning, hope it makes you feel better.”
“Heh, you sure know how to make my day, Lise, but it really is a nice dress.”
“Thank you, sir. Mark's waiting for you in your office, so you'd better get going.”
“Already? That kid needs to sleep in more, show up late once in a while. He's wasting the only days he can get away with that! Ah well, Thank you for the drink, and enough with calling me sir, eh? I'm not some celebrity lawyer yet.”
It was Lise's following laughter, more than the conversation itself, that let me know my supervisor had arrived. Mr. Bradley seemed to be the only person that could make her laugh like that, the other attorneys preferred a far more serious attitude. They have a point, as it is the prosecutors' office and they do serious work, but as Luke had told me on my first day, “Just because you do serious work doesn't mean you have to ban laughter in the office. Life's too short to worry only about business, so laugh and live a little!” Unfortunately, it seemed like the secretary was the only person that had taken his advice.
My first day here had been...memorable, to say the least. The internship director at my college knew the chief prosecutor, and managed to arrange an internship for me under him. Unfortunately, when I arrived on my first day, he had quickly delegated me to the newest attorney in the office.
Pressing the Escape key and saving my game, I quickly minimized it before he came to the door. I turned my chair so that all he would be able to see would be the back of my laptop monitor. There, leaning against the door frame, was my supervisor. “Good to see you Mr. Bradley.” He was wearing his favorite suit, a gray one that was only a shade or two darker than his fur. Underneath was a white dress shirt and a gray tie with a very complex, indescribable pattern on it.
“Hey, how's it going, Mark?” he replied jovially. “Had a good weekend, I hope?”
“Well, sort of, had a lot of homework to catch up on,” came my sullen reply.
He turned to look at me while hanging his coat on the hook behind the door, a smile slowly creeping up his muzzle while his tail stood still. The unspoken question hung in the air for a full second before I returned his smile, answering, “Fallout 3.”
A quick nod, and he stepped softly across the pale blue carpet to his desk, replying, “So, my little intern is out wandering the wastes while he should be keeping up with his homework, eh? Not exactly lawyerly conduct, is it?”
Used to his sarcasm, I slyly replied, “I suppose playing Solitaire during the Monday meetings qualifies as good lawyerly conduct then?”
He laughed and dropped into his chair, causing the springs inside to squeak in protest, “Not so loud. The boss may not be back from Hawaii yet, but he probably doesn't want to hear about that from the other attorneys,” he looked out the door to see if anyone was listening, then added, “and just for clarification, it was Freecell. Anyway, after that last case we've got a bit of a break, the next one doesn't go to court for two more weeks. I hate to say it, but it's gonna be a little boring around here for a while, so you can probably get back to that game on your laptop until the meeting.”
“Game? I wasn't pla–” A quick glance from him and another smirk, and I had been silenced. Somehow, he always knew. “I'll just turn in these quests, then get to real work.”
More laughter, “Nothing to worry about, take your time. Honestly, I'd be doing the same if I could install them on this thing,” saying the last word with disdain.
Despite what he had told me, I remained true to my word and just finished up a few errands in my game before closing it down. Well, I guess I wasn't quite true to my word, as I didn't do legal work afterwards, instead catching up on the homework I had neglected to do because of my game. As the screen returned to the desktop, I looked down at the taskbar, seeing what documents I had open to work on this morning. Thankfully, there weren't too many, just a short essay on Shakespeare for Composition class and my resume that needed to be updated.
Might as well get the easy stuff out of the way first, I thought, so I restored the resume window and scrolled down to the “Job Experience” section. I suppose I was getting a little ahead of myself, as my internship wasn't even halfway through, but there's probably a safe bet that I'll tough it out. Knowing that the internship experience would be easy with Luke as my supervisor, I started a new line and entered, “Intern, City of Detroit Prosecutor's Office. Supervisor – Luke Bradley.” Reading it over again, it sounded kind of impressive, but then again, if the person reading it knew who Mr. Bradley really was, they'd be a little disappointed.
He was the office's youngest prosecutor, both in age and experience. While I hadn't asked him his age, he couldn't be more than ten years older than me. And where other attorneys would have an office filled with bookcases containing tens of thousands of pages of case law and history, Mr. Bradley only had a single, small bookcase with a handful of books in it. The rest of it contained sets of carefully organized disks that contained all the information in the other attorneys' bookcases. While he argued that it was more efficient and better for the environment, there was a certain sense of authority granted when an attorney is surrounded by legal books, all of which that attorney had probably read. Mr. Bradley, however, was the first to say that he hadn't even read half of the information on those volumes, but he could find the case he was looking for in less than a minute.
That was another major difference between Mr. Bradley and the other prosecutors. While they would have a small squad of paralegals do their research, my boss would do it all himself. He sometimes wasn't the best speaker or thinker, but he was the best researcher I had ever seen. I had even once heard him tell the boss, “Give me Google and five minutes and I'll find anything.” So far, no one had been able to prove this claim false.
Saving and closing my resume, I was about to start work on my essay when a very attractive cheetah came through the doorway. Or rather, we heard her coming several seconds before she reached the doorway. She was the one Luke had been talking to after arriving this morning, as well as his best friend at the office. While I would eventually interview her as part of my internship, I didn't really know too much about her. What I could say, though, was that she had a new dress, maroon and covered in beads, jewels, and other trinkets that clacked together loudly whenever she took a step. “Luke, the meeting's going to start a bit early today, so they want us in the conference room right away.”
The wolf looked at her as if she had blasphemed, “Already, Lise? Wow, didn't think the boss's plane would come in so early...he actually flew a red eye?”
As before, she displayed the smile that could only be summoned by my supervisor, “No such luck, Luke, he called in and said there was some error with his credit card and they have to put him on another flight. He's about to call again for the meeting.”
He chuckled softly then rose from his seat, “And here I thought he might have finally come down to us plebeians, eh? Alright, let's get this over with. All set there Mark?”
After a nod, the two of us closed our laptops and followed Lise into the conference room. While there were a few people missing, most of the office had arrived in time to hear the phone in the center of the room ring and for Lise to set it to speaker.
“Morning everyone! I trust you all had a good weekend?” came the voice of Gerard Closeau, the chief prosecutor. Without waiting for anyone to respond, he continued, “I'm being billed by the minute, so let's keep this quick.” He then addressed each attorney, asking them how their individual cases were going, occasionally offering suggestions and reprimanding those that hadn't done their share of the work. Finally, after several minutes, during which Luke was, as usual, playing a game on his laptop, the boss addressed my supervisor, “and next is...Bradley. You're not assigned to any cases this week, are you?” As before, he assumed that he was correct and didn't wait for a response, “Then you'll be responsible for mine, as I'm afraid I won't be back in Michigan in time for the trial. Name on the file is Hayes. It's a simple murder, convincing evidence, something easy I'm sure you can handle.”
Either Luke missed the insult or simply didn't care, my guess was the latter. His attention never left the card game on his screen as he replied, “Sure thing, boss. I'll get right on it.”
“There's a good lad, and moving onto...” I stopped paying attention, since he never really gave messages that referenced the whole office. There were a few more attorneys he had yet to address, so I opened up my essay again. Boring, yes, but at least it was productive.
“Now then, if all goes well I'll see you Friday. Good hunting, everyone!” a collective sigh could be heard from everyone present as he hung up. One by one, people stepped out of the room and back to their offices or down to the courthouse proper until only Lise, Luke, and myself remained. Luke was usually first out of the room, but he still had to finish up the last few moves on his card game.
“While you finish up there, I'll get you Mr. Closeau's files on that case.” She said, a slight layer of ice on her words as she watched him play.
“Now, now, Lise,” he replied, finishing the game, “I may be irresponsible sometimes, but I'm not about to make you do my work for me.”
“My hero,” she said sarcastically, giving him another smile and disappearing down the hall towards her desk.
After watching her go, Luke closed up his laptop and rose from his seat. “Right then, let's go see what the boss's left for us.”
I quickly closed mine as well, following him down to the boss's office. The contrast between his office and Luke's was night and day. Bookcases containing hundreds of legal volumes surrounded every inch of the room except for the space next to Mr. Closeau's desk, which bore certificates, diplomas, and a very large picture of himself. Sitting on the corner of the desk was a large expandable folder, “red ropes” the attorneys called them, after the color of the tie used to hold them closed. I saw the name “Hayes” written in black marker on one of the corners of the folder, just as Luke picked it up and leafed through it, looking for the police report. As soon as he had found it, he tucked the folder under his arm next to his laptop and began walking back towards his office with me as his shadow.
First Impressions
“Let's see here...shooting...suspect arrested while fleeing the scene...no witnesses...yeah, looks simple enough.” Of course, that's what his assessment usually was when he first read a case's police report. It was the rest of the file that made the case more complex.
It seemed that Lise had been thinking the same as Luke walked past her, “Another easy one, Luke?”
“I think so...doesn't seem like anyone else could've committed this one, so it won't be too hard picking this one up.” We turned into his office and he set the folder down on his desk. Removing the papers inside, he handed half of them to me, saying “guess it's not gonna be a boring week after all, eh? Start reading.”
The way he said it made it sound like a chore, but it was really quite easy. All I had to do was look through the pages, find any important information, and summarize it. I had heard stories about how other internships involved busy work, secretarial duties, all the boring office work. But Luke, even though I had been more or less dumped on him by the boss, was eager to involve me in each case he worked on.
After fifteen minutes of reading and making occasional notes on our computers, Luke set his half of the pile down and asked, “Think you've got a good idea of what happened?”
“Yeah, I think we can work this out,” I answered, “especially if that tape is correct.”
“Indeed, not too often we get a crime caught on tape...well, sort of.” He moved over to the white board hanging near the door and began to write. “So the two of them arrived around 10 PM.”
“Robert Hayes, the defendant, and Devon Vell, the victim.”
“They come into the room at the same time, then start talking. We'll know what they were talking about when we play the tape, but it was apparently very civil. Then the lights go out, Hayes draws a gun, puts a bullet into Vell's head, misses with a second shot, and then tries to leave. A squad car happened to be on the street, the officer saw Hayes run out with the gun, and arrested him on the spot.” Writing all of this on the board, Luke added, “That's one lucky cop, to be in the right spot at just the right time.”
“You think it wasn't coincidence?” I replied.
“I'd bet my next paycheck it wasn't,” he muttered grimly, “and you know my policy about gambling.”
"I never make a bet I won't win", floated Luke's voice in Mark's head. “I think I'll pass on that bet, Mr. Bradley, but then how did the officer know to be there?”
He answered my question with a question, “And why did Hayes shoot someone he seemed to be getting along with?”
I looked up from the report at him, my tail now swaying interestedly, “There's no motive in the report?”
Raising one paw to his chin, he looked down at the floor. A thinker's gesture he had picked up from some old movie or TV show. “There is, but I hope it isn't true.”
I had read about several murders that had very bad outcomes, but this hardly seemed to fir that category, so I replied, “It can't be that bad.”
He returned the straight truth, “The boss thinks it was a mob hit.”
“Well, he's the expert on mobs,” I reasoned, “so like an oncologist always sees cancer, he sees mobsters.”
“Good comparison, but looking at his notes on the matter, I think he may be right,” came the doubtful reply.
“What do you mean?”
He raised his hand to write on the board again, but then stopped and took from the folder a small memory card. “Let's watch the video first...I don't want to jump to any conclusions.”
While there was more I could have said on the subject, he had made a good point. The video would probably explain more than the records anyway. Sliding the card into the side of his laptop, he opened up the video file, then immediately paused it to get a good look at the room.
“Wait,” I asked, having a sudden thought, “How could the camera still record when the power went out?”
He smiled, “Good observation. It had a battery backup, so it was running on that when the police found it. Now, back to the room in here...pretty small, kind of like a waiting room.”
Nodding at his explanation, I turned my focus to the room as well, “Yeah, no furniture though...camera's near the ceiling...”
He pushed the play button and advanced the movie a few frames. Two people entered the room, a husky and a mouse. Both were wearing suits and morbid expressions. Pausing the movie again, Luke pointed out the raised areas of the men's coats at their sides. Both of them were armed. They moved to the center of the room, in plain view of the camera, and began to converse, but didn't really make much sense. “What are they saying?” I asked confusedly.
“They're communicating in code. Listen to them, 'the chips are in play, but the helmet won't budge.' Obviously they know what the other is talking about, but they don't want anyone else to understand them...unless they also know the code, of course.”
“Like the military?” I asked thoughtfully.
“...Or the mafia...” he muttered, the dread in his voice lingering in the air for a moment.
The two men continued to talk, and from the sound of things were getting a little agitated. However, neither made a move for his gun. Finally, without warning, the lights went out. One of the two, Hayes, began to say “Wh–” but was suddenly silenced. Then, two muzzle flashes and the resounding bangs of gunshots were heard. They originated from Hayes' side of the room. Next came the sound of a metal door opening, and moonlight could be seen on the floor of the adjoining room, disrupted by the shadow of Hayes fleeing.
The two of us stood in stunned silence for a moment, before the silence was broken by Lise knocking on the door. “Luke? Mr. Closeau is on line 3 for you.”
It took a moment for the innocent statement to register with the wolf, but he swiftly replied, “Oh, right, right. Thank you Lise.”
Pressing the speaker button on his phone, I listened in to their conversation.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Bradley, I trust you've found the folder and become familiar with the case? Good, good. It seems very cut and dry, doesn't it? Of course it does. I'm sure you'll have no trouble-”
Luke apparently couldn't let the boss's assumptions slide this time, as he interrupted, “Mr. Closeau, I do have a few questions about the case.”
There was a short silence on the other end. Closeau wasn't used to having people interrupt his monologues. “What kind of questions, Bradley?”
“You suspect that this is a mob hit...but from the video it seems obvious that Hayes is the shooter...so which one of them is part of the mafia?”
“Why, Hayes, of course. Don't you know the definition of a mob hit? When-”
Again, Luke interrupted him, “How do you know?”
From his tone of voice, it was obvious that Closeau was getting irritated, “It's really quite simple...look at Hayes's weapon, and you'll notice an insignia on its side That's a trademark of the Maresti family. Also, the code they used is unique to that crime family, I'll explain that one when I return. Finally, the building the meeting took place in is utilized by several mob families for meetings. It's neutral territory, and the camera is used to ensure that nothing is done under the table...for mob standards, that is.”
“I see...” Luke looked like he had something else to say, but kept quiet.
“Is that all, Mr. Bradley?”
“Yes...safe flying.”
Closeau didn't respond to that and simply hung up. “So you think it's still a mob hit?” I asked, wondering what to make of Closeau's analysis.
“Closeau may be self-centered, but he knows his stuff,” he began, paw returning to his chin, “Still...either he missed something, or I'm jumping to conclusions...”
“What do you mean?” I asked, tail swishing to life again.
He didn't respond for a moment, but then said, “I'm not quite sure yet...but I think we should meet our shooter. Care to come along?”
While I didn't relish the prospect of meeting a murderer, one employed by the mob even less, the essay waiting for me on my laptop was slightly more foreboding. “Sure thing, let's go.”
Putting on our coats, we stepped out of the office and let Lise know where we were going, “thanks again for the drink this morning, Lise. Really made the boss's call more bearable.”
She leaned back in her chair and looked at him slyly, “are you sure it was me and not your winning hand on the computer?”
“Positive. We'll be back in an hour or so, just have to check in on our new defendant.”
With a farewell wave, Luke opened his cell phone as we entered the elevator. He had a close friend in the police department, and both times he had made a call to see a defendant, the person in question had been ready in only five minutes. The jail was only a block away from the courthouse, so the five minutes to prep the defendant were over by the time we had entered the building. The small room contained only the table and three chairs, an extra one having been brought for me, and handcuffed at one end of it sat a mouse, the defendant.
“Good morning, Mr. Hayes, my name is Luke Bradley, the new prosecutor for your case, and this is my intern, Mark Nichols.”
“Old guy get cold feet or somethin'?”
“Plane trouble in Hawaii, won't make it back in time for the trial.”
A smile grew onto Hayes' face, as if he had expected that. “So what do you want to know?”
“You can start by telling us what happened in that room.”
He snorted in reply, followed by, “You saw the tape, didn't you? You know what happened.”
Luke ignored the first part of his reply and retorted, “we did, but it's one thing to see it, another to live it. What was your experience?”
Hayes let out a barely audible laugh. How could he find this funny? “Alright, fine. I'll tell you what happened. Better have the kid write it down, because I don't like repeating myself.”
I nodded and took a pen and notepad from my pocket. Although I didn't appreciate him calling me kid, I didn't want to delay anything. After all, we were fortunate enough that he was willing to meet with us in the first place.
“I didn't know the guy at all. All I was told was that I was supposed to meet someone, go over some business, and call it a day. I can tell what you're going to ask, and no, I won't say what kind of business. However, I will assure you that it had nothing to do with this case, and if you don't believe me, then ask my attorney. She doesn't know either.”
Looking up at Luke, it seemed like Hayes had read him correctly. A slight smile appearing on the wolf's face and a slight sway in his tail, he gestured to Hayes to continue.
“We started talking, and he was reasonable enough, but as we were finishing up, he started getting greedy. Then all the lights went out, and I heard him shoot at me, so I drew my gun and took him down. Had to fire twice because he might've moved his head. I bolted, and you know the rest. I didn't murder him, it was self-defense.”
Luke didn't respond for three whole seconds. His face didn't even move, he was just sitting there, working it all out in his head. When he finally turned back to Hayes, he asked, “You said Vell shot at you...that's not on the tape.”
Hayes' expression became an enigma. I couldn't tell if he had known this already, if he was amused by it, or if he had expected it, but this certainly didn't come as a shock to him as he replied, “Yes...I suspect it wasn't.”
Narrowing his gaze, Luke's face was one of grim determination. He replied with only, “Explain.”
“Someone turned the lights off on purpose. I don't know why they would do that, but I know what I heard. There was a gunshot coming from Vell's direction.”
“And there wasn't anyone else in the room...” the wolf muttered, paw supporting his chin yet again. “I noticed in the tape that both of you were armed. Both bullet casings from your weapon were recovered at the scene, and ballistic fingerprinting guarantees that they came from a model matching your firearm. However, if Vell did shoot at you, the bullet casing was never found.”
Hayes didn't respond, merely watching Luke apathetically.
“Let's go from a different angle,” he continued, “let's assume you didn't know who Vell was before you met him that night...do you know who he represented?”
“Of course,” came the simple reply, though his tone said quite clearly that he wasn't going to say more than that.
Luke seemed to have reached this conclusion as well, asking, “You obviously represent an organization yourself...”
“What makes you say that?” came Hayes' snide reply
“Let's say my predecessor had a few ideas. Have the two organizations had conflict in the past?”
“No. This was just a routine meeting between the two. None of us were expecting what happened that night.”
Luke nodded, removing his paw from his chin, “So the fact that both of you were carrying was just standard operating procedure?”
“Correct.”
“And you're certain Vell fired at you?”
“I didn't see him shoot, but I heard a gunshot in his direction. After having the lights put out, I was already looking out for someone to try something.”
Luke rose from his chair and extended a paw to Hayes, “Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Hayes. I'll contact you again in case I need anything else.”
“If I feel like talking to you again,” came Hayes' cold response. Leaving Luke's paw untouched, he followed the guard back into the cell block.
An Attorney's Duty
“That went pretty well,” I offered, though I wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.
His answer came slowly, as he considered each word, “Sort of...didn't learn too much, but his claim of hearing another shot...very intriguing...”
“Isn't he just lying to try for a self-defense plea?”
Shaking his head, he answered, “It's possible...but I don't think he was. Think about it, if you were trying for a self-defense plea, you'd give as much detail about Vell's gun as possible. He'd have said something about hearing Vell draw his weapon or a bullet going past his head...but all he said was that he heard a shot. Either he's not trying very hard for his plea, or he's telling the truth.”
“Alright...but why didn't we hear the gunshot on the video then?”
“My thoughts exactly. I think it deserves another look, don't you?”
I returned a quick nod and shortly after we began walking towards the courthouse, I found myself imitating Luke by placing my paw on my chin in thought. I noticed him smirking at this, but didn't pay him much more heed to him as we walked. If Hayes was lying, then the case was extremely simple. He shot Vell, and that's all there was to it. But if he was telling the truth...that would mean that the recording had been edited. Even a handgun with a silencer would be audible in such a small room and so close to the camera. And of course, that led to a whole slew of questions as to who edited the recording. But then again...maybe there weren't so many people who could've done it. Maybe-
“You're thinking about who edited the recording, aren't you?”
I nearly jumped when he said that. “How did you know?”
“It's the only question in the case right now. If no one edited the recording, then he's obviously lying, the tape can prove it, the case is closed, and we've got a very boring day ahead of us. So, let's liven up the day a bit. Who fabricated the tape?” I was about to reply before he added, “Think about that until we get back to the office. Deputies get a little fidgety when you talk about evidence outside of a courtroom.”
We had just entered the courthouse, and he was right. Evidence wasn't really supposed to be talked about outside of the offices or the courtroom. He was right though, without this question, there wasn't any more to think about in the case. Something was still bugging me though... “Why did Mr. Closeau investigate the possibility of mob involvement?”
He pressed the button for the elevator, saying, “You heard him on the phone. He believes it was the location of the shooting, the coded speech, and the guns.”
We began the ride up the ten floors to the Prosecutors' Office, as I continued, “Why look into it though? I mean, no matter what we find out about the recording, it doesn't change the fact that Hayes shot Vell.”
He nodded and said, “You're absolutely right, but if we simply ignored this anomaly, we wouldn't be doing our ethical duty.” Obviously, the wolf read the question on my face before I even began to ask it, as he continued to explain, “When I was an intern for a judge in this very courthouse, I talked to a defense attorney after observing his case. I asked him what it felt like to defend a client he thought was guilty, and his response made more sense than most of the legal texts I've read: 'A defense attorney's duty is to ensure that the client's rights are protected. A prosecutor's duty is to seek the truth.'”
While I knew he had more to say, he stopped there to let it sink in. I hadn't really thought about it like that. I knew that if I became a prosecutor, it would be my job to help people find justice for their losses, but now that he had put it like that...it really made sense. Prosecutors not only had a duty to the public, but to the suspects themselves, to prosecute the right person. It would be easy to put Hayes behind bars, but by ignoring an anomaly in his case...we wouldn't be doing our jobs.
“Figured it out, have you?” he asked thoughtfully.
“Yeah...I understand,” I replied. “We need to solve as much of this as possible.”
“Exactly. We can't solve every mystery, but if it's possible, that's our job.”
The elevator door opened to the familiar offices and we were greeted by Lise's kindly smile. “Things a little less confusing now?” she asked, looking up from her computer.
“'fraid not, Lise,” came his jovial reply, “You know how it usually goes, try to solve one mystery and another, bigger one pops up.”
“Of course, but I'm sure you'll figure them out. As we headed into his office, she called, “Give me a shout if you need anything!”
Luke gave her a smile and we entered his office. Taking off his coat once more, he stepped over to the white board and erased what he had written on it earlier. “Alright then, have a seat and let's get started.” I took off my coat as well. It was already approaching noon, and the office was getting hotter. He opened up the video file on his computer again and turned the monitor towards me. “Let's start by finding out exactly when this supposed gunshot took place.” Starting the video again, he fast-forwarded to the moment when the lights went out.
After only two replays of the video, we both agreed that the only time the video was completely silent was just after the lights went out, when Hayes began to say something. While it was plausible that someone would stutter after something like this, there wouldn't have been complete silence in the following seconds. “Still, we need to find solid evidence in the tape that that silence isn't supposed to be there,” he remarked, rewinding the video again.
After a dozen more replays of the same few seconds, we were still no closer to an answer. There had to be something in that silent second that must have been heard by the camera. Something that we could prove happened in order for Hayes to fire at Vell. While we were pondering that and rewinding the video yet again, the familiar sound of Lise's dress drew towards the doorway. “Lunchtime already, Lise?” the wolf called out.
“Dress gave me away, huh?” she asked, leaning on the door frame.
“Well, I don't want to say it's loud, but...” he shrugged and gave her a grin.
He had invoked another laugh from her as she replied, “Well, now you know how I can tell you're coming down the hall, your suit's just as bad if you listen closely. Anyway, yeah I was about to go get...what? You look like you just remembered that you left a fire going.”
Sure enough, Luke's face was one of awe, as if he had just remembered something very important. Standing up, he took his jacket off the chair he had been sitting on and put it on again. “Would you mind doing me a huge favor, Lise?”
She obviously hadn't figured out what he was doing yet, and neither had I, but she played along, “Yeah, sure, what do you need?”
“When I say so, close your eyes, then tell me when you hear me moving, alright?”
The confusion on her face hadn't cleared up, but she nodded nonetheless. The wolf reached down around to the side of his waist, as if he was reaching for... The realization appeared on my face like a firework exploding in the air. He gave me a quick smile then nodded at Lise, who closed her eyes. He quickly moved his hand from his side to a sort of aiming stance.
Almost as soon as he moved his hand, “Heard that.”
“Alright, let's give it three more tries, ready?”
She closed her eyes once again, and this time he moved far more slowly. Before his arm was even halfway raised, however, she pointed at him, “Heard that too.”
“Twice more, then.” As the two resumed their starting positions, he moved slower than I could have believed. Every motion he made was in order to prevent the fabric of the coat from moving and thus, making noise. However, no matter how hard he tried, as he passed the halfway point in raising his arm, his sleeve made an unavoidable noise.
“Took you a while, but there you are,” She said with another grin, “do I win a prize?”
He sat back down and made sure the video was set to the correct location, just when the lights went out, then said, “Alright, last time, if you hear something like that before the gunshot, lunch is on me.”
She nodded and looked at the screen. Sure enough, when the first gunshot was heard, she hadn't said a word. “Was that a trick or something? Was I supposed to hear something?”
“Exactly...when you heard me raising my arm like that, that's exactly what you should've heard in that silence. I was raising an imaginary gun, and one of the two people in that video was making that exact motion, but you didn't hear a thing! He wore a suit as well, so in order for him to aim and fire his weapon, he must have moved in that motion and you'd have heard him!”
The look of confusion had returned to her face. “So...what does that mean?”
He smiled, “It means two things: first, we've just solved one mystery, and second, lunch is on me.”
Part 2: Seeking Truth: Part 2