Killers

KillersDarby Swan waited at the defence table at the provincial courthouse in Toronto. His client would be along shortly the bailiff had said. Darby had no reason to doubt him. Even considering that Sarah needed a wheelchair, the court officers always got her into the courtroom promptly. He saw the bailiffs manage many rough characters in the five years he had been practising law, but today was not one of those days. Mrs. Sarah Cunningham was not violent. Hell, he thought, she can barely stand. Ninety-four years old and weighing even less than her age, Sarah would not be a problem. The only problem Darby expected was depression. Well, at least this sentencing hearing would not last long. Only one victim statement left to hear, followed by a statement from his client and then sentencing. Darby would make it to the bar by three. He would need a drink after today.He had hoped that he could get the prosecutor to dismiss the case on the grounds of mental deficiency. No such luck. Why would they. The woman had shot the man four times in front of witnesses then sat down to await the police. The fact that she was the oldest person ever charged with homicide did not hold sway here. It was an open and shut case especially considering his client had pleaded guilty. He had advised against that, but Sarah rejected his council. His thought, although he never mentioned it to her, was that by the time her case made it onto a docket she would be dead from natural causes.An increase in the undertone of conversation alerted him to his client’s arrival. The bailiffs brought her into the courtroom through the double doors at the back because the usual prisoner’s doorway was too narrow. The rise in conversation came from the family of the victim and their support group. Only the daughter would make a victim’s statement today. They had heard the mother’s statement yesterday. The bailiff pushed Sarah’s chair to the table beside him.“Thank you,” Darby said. Sarah looked dishevelled. One of the oxygen lines that fed the gas mixture to her nose had slipped from over her ear. It now hung down by her cheek. She did not appear to have the energy to deal with the problem. Darby reached out and hooked it over her ear. She smiled at him.“Thank you, Darby,” she wheezed. He smiled back, but before he could say anything the bailiff announced the judge’s arrival.“All rise.” The judge took his seat. “Be seated,” the bailiff said.“Let the record show that we are gathered to hear a final statement from the victim’s daughter in the case of the Crown vs Sarah Cunningham. The defendant has asked to make a statement after which sentencing will occur. Are we ready to proceed?” Darby and the prosecutor both answered in the affirmative. “The defendant will rise and face the court.”“Your Honour,” Darby said, “Do we have to do this again?” It was all he could do to keep the disgust out of his voice. “You have already dismissed the necessity of my client standing, twice.” The judge stared at him for a second.“Right,” he said. “Only for sentencing, I remember now. We will proceed with the victim statement.”The prosecutor brought the daughter forward and left her at the podium. Darby judged she was in her early thirties. Her blue pinstripe pant suit screamed money. She placed one sheet of paper onto the podium and then turned to face Sarah.“My father was the gentlest man I have ever known,” she said. “He never raised a hand to me or my mother. He attended church with us every Sunday when he wasn’t away on business. He gave freely of his money and time to help others. My mother and I loved him deeply. His grandchildren worshipped him. My two, loved to be held by him as he sat in his big chair by the fireplace. I will never hold my father again. My children will never be held by their grandfather again because you killed him. You never met my father, but still you shot and killed him. I will never forgive you and I hope you roast in hell for eternity.” She gathered her paper which she had not even glanced at and returned to her seat. Her mother placed an arm around her and held her close.“Counsellor is your client ready to make her statement?” the Judge asked. Darby glanced at Sarah. She smiled at him.“She is, Your Honour.” Darby said. He stood and maneuvered Sarah’s wheelchair out from behind the desk and pushed it to the podium. Sarah began when he sat again at his table.“Thank you, Your Honour, for this opportunity,” she started. The judge held up his hand.“I am sorry, Mrs. Cunningham, but we are unable to hear you,” The judge stated. “Would it be possible for you to stand at the podium?”“Your Honour!” Darby said as he came to his feet. “We have been through—” he started but Sarah held up her hand and waved it weakly to motion him over.“Help me up, Darby,” she said. “I can do this.” He helped her to her feet. She grasped the far edge of the podium with claw-like hands. He eased his support away, and she stood on her own.“My husband was a soldier,” she stated. “He died fighting for Canada and our way of life. I have two sons. One was a police officer. He was killed in the line of duty while protecting the people of this city. My other son was never a fighter. He has a gentle soul. He got a job at Sears when he finished high school and kept it until he retired last year. He had many positions at Sears. He worked his way up the ladder to a buyer position. He never became a manager because he only had a high school education, but he was respected and trusted. People liked him and he loved his job and he loved Sears. He bought a home for his family. He put his two children through university. Last year, when Sears went into bankruptcy, I worried about him, but he said his pension would see him through. It didn’t.” Sarah grimaced from pain as she turned to face the victim’s family.“Your father,” she pointed a crooked finger at the daughter, “stole my son’s pension so that he would get his executive bonuses. He underfunded the pension plan by two hundred and sixty million dollars. After everyone else lost their jobs, their severance and their pensions, your wonderful father and the remaining two board members managed to skim over a million more dollars from the businesses assets. Your wonderful father used his position to undermine all his employees for the sake of his own fortune.”“That’s a lie!” the daughter screamed as she jumped to her feet.“No it is not,” Sarah said. “What he did may not have been illegal, but it was immoral. It went against the values of society. Did he really think he could get away with it?”Darby heard someone cry ‘no’. He turned towards the sound. The daughter broke away from the hold her mother had on her arm, charge across the floor and knocked Sarah to the floor. Before the bailiff or Darby could reach them, she had pounded Sarah repeatedly.* * *Darby nursed his second drink. He would not have another. It was too late. His expectation of reaching the bar in the early afternoon had crumbled when the paramedics had been unable to resuscitate Sarah. Hours later, after the police had their statements, and the hysterics from the daughter’s arrest had died down, the courtroom emptied and Darby dragged his body across Queen Street to the Gavel. Now he knew it was time to leave, but he couldn’t find the energy. His body was numb. His mind kept playing Sarah’s last words over and over.“Did he really think he could get away with it?” she had asked. The implications of that question would not leave him. As a lawyer he believed in due process, in letting the law take its course, but what happens when politicians and businesses lie, cheat and steal from people in a way that that is technically legal but purely immoral. Will people accept it and move on? Sarah’s words suggested, no. You can only push people so far before they react, before they take the law into their own hands. Maybe he would have another drink, he thought just as someone else sitting at the bar told the bartender to ‘turn that up’. Darby raised his eyes to the television.“… was leaving a restaurant on the Danforth when a man shot him three times,” the announcer was saying. “Premier Ford was pronounced dead at the scene. Witnesses say the shooter, an elderly man who was sitting on the seat of his walker, was heard saying something about, ‘getting away with it’.”The End© Dave Skinner 2019