Marine Snow's

Ep. 01: Green Table Scheme

“Will I say one more time, Your Majesty. I only met Mr. William once. It was seven o'clock on March 9. The sidewalk near his office was not too crowded and I was chasing a taxi to get home on time. My wife, Joana, is having a small birthday party at home. I can't possibly miss it just like that.”

Justin Stewart's. The man in his late thirties was indeed in an unlucky state. I can assure you, he has no intention of being anywhere near the office of poor Mr. William. Especially if you imagine a romantic party that he tried to pursue using the taxi. Justin Stewart will regret it for a lifetime.

But the decision he made was right. If only he had fought back to the point of leaving the dying Mr. William gliding in the taxi he had called, the title he now held would have changed.

From a witness, to a suspect.

I saw the man wearing the grey suit bow his head. Squeezing his knuckles, he said. “True. We were grabbing a taxi. We also call each other for urgent reasons. And as I told the investigators, Mr. William won. I was thrown out of the taxi. Of course I'm angry. God gave me another taxi. So I managed to arrive on time at home.”

God's plan is amazing. This is the umpteenth time I praise every detail of His plan. Rescuing a lowly employee like Justin Stewart from a murder charge of a property magnate, Mr. William, who takes place inside a taxi, is just a small piece of his plan. I've seen a bigger one in my favorite room.

This room is twice the size of my apartment. The most striking element as far as the eye can see is the stage with the judge's rectangular table. Next to him, there was a podium to testify. I sat on the left side of the judge's desk. If I look left and back, the suspect and his lawyer are watching Justin Stewart seriously, while the visitors are doing the same. Some of the judges sitting on the right wing were whispering and most noted Justin Stewart's statement.

“You can get started, Mr. Johnson.”

Helga Dillingham's heavy voice triggered both of my eyebrows to lift. For almost two years we worked together. And for two years, Helga always said her favorite words. Trying to make me look like an incompetent Public Prosecutor.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said standing up and pressing ‘Yang Mulia’ to raise Helga Dillingham's blood. This is my only way of replying to the woman with reddish hair. I couldn't have done more when I remembered my portions and position.

I walked up to Justin Stewart who was standing still in his place, a narrow square stage with wooden fences on three sides. Now, the look on the man's face was more organized. He no longer looked down nor squeezed his knuckles. The emerald green eyes he showed also turned confident as if convinced that everything about Mr. William would end in a few minutes.

“Mr Stewart,” I said get started. “When you argue with Mr William, what is the name of the suspect in it?”

Justin shook his head strongly. I knew he would react that way. I have read the news of this conference many times. “I'm very sure, Mr. William said that the situation is in chaos. His business would soon collapse if he did not immediately go somewhere. Err... Somewhere near the Mississippi river.”

“Mississippi River? Can you name one place that approached the explanation of Mr William at the time?” ask again. There's one theory I'm testing right now. Someone on my investigation team revealed that crazy, brilliant idea a few days ago. And now, we're taking the risk. Or rather, my good name is at stake here.

“Err. Yeah, bars. Mr. William said it. Dyersburg.”

The reaction that the man with black hair showed gave a slight impression that he was hesitating. Is correct. For a newcomer to Tennessee, all cities will look the same. And the special city of all the towns in Tennessee is the most recognizable. The most frequently visited city. Justin Stewart, Dyersburg.

Just as we had expected. Justin will be on our side. Point.

“Alright, Mr. Stewart. Now tell me, have you bought a house in the Dyersburg area lately?” Turning a few pages away from the half-centimeter thick file in my hand, a smile I was arranging. “It's not just your wife preparing a surprise for anniversary. You can't possibly attend that special event empty-handed, can you? The pik─”

“Objection!”

With the tail of my eyes, I saw lawyer Danielle Lincoln standing up from her chair. Helga gave a positive response by raising an eyebrow while staring with interest at the young lawyer. I understand one thing. Lawyer Danielle Lincoln's warm attitude, which has been shown since the first trial, has affected the woman.

“The question asked by Mr. Johnson is not related to the case under discussion,” the lawyer said excitedly.

Helga had raised her right hand when I began to focus on the hollows in her cheekbones. “Defension denied. Looks like there's a theory Mr. Johnson is testing. So, please continue, Mr. Johnson.”

Now, my voice is getting lighter. The thought of Helga Dillingham that would block our theory has evaporated out of nowhere. I don't want to know. And hopefully never will because I don't want to get back caught up in that skinny woman's taunts.

After a short, almost smileless thank you, I continued what I had started. Justin Stewart finally confirmed my question. A house 1 kilometer from the Mississippi river did become the main character in his mind. When Mr. William seizes his taxi, Justin says that he can see the disappointed face of his wife for being late to know the prize proceeds from the sale of all senior Stewart family assets.

Another bonus I got was that Mr. William had said that he would not go to the bar to get drunk, but just keep his business. And we know a great place to do business complete with views of the Mississippi river as a sweetener.

Memphis. My hometown.

“And incidentally, our suspect, Mr. Lincoln, has a money-lending venture in Memphis. The trail from the venture disappeared since 2010 because Mr. Lincoln lost his son. But that doesn't mean the effort also disappears.”

Danielle Lincoln's eyeballs almost jumped out. The reaction I have been waiting for from this trial. I really liked the expression of every suspect when the secret he was hiding was exposed. Luckily, this time I was able to control the tip of my lips that was slowly raised. Helga usually immediately reprimands me if that happens.

“Two days ago, someone named Dominic Miller borrowed some money to Mr. Lincoln.” Once again, Danielle Lincoln jumped. While I was back to holding back the laughter. “Proof of the transaction was always brought by Mr. Lincoln. A metallic blue notebook with some scribbles of dates on its lower left side. And the book is now in Mr. Lincoln's left pocket.”

Task completed. The two detectives I invited to hear the trial immediately sought permission to search for Danielle Lincoln. They did it perfectly. A notebook has moved into their hands. Even Helga gave me one nod, a sign that I had done a good thing in her eyes.

But I know that nod is not just for me.

“Dominic, eh?” muttered.

Suddenly I cast my gaze on a tall man standing from the back of the court bench. I saw his hands waving and occasionally giving ─ thumbs a ritual that was never missed whenever the trial went according to our plan. A ritual I hate. Because after the thumb is lifted, embarrassing things will happen.

"Whoooho!"

I better get out of here.

"The most amazing Aid Johnson!"

Ck!

"You see it Mr. Lincoln?!"

Oh my God, this idiot!

"We'll finish you! Let's see who will survive until the end!"

And the scream ended with Dominic's moans being dragged forcibly out of the courtroom.

Yeah, he deserves it.