Chapter 206: The Devastated Top Lawyer: Your Honor, I Object! This is a Personal Attack!
"It seems you don't like personal attacks either,"
Chuck said bluntly.
"..."
Harrison Powell's face darkened, forcing out a practiced smile with perfect white teeth: "I took this case pro bono! I'm one of the most famous criminal defense attorneys in the country, the most famous on the East Coast!"
He liked to get 'personal' with others, so of course he wouldn't like others using the same 'personal' approach on him!
"You gamble!"
Chuck said calmly. "Your BlackBerry vibrates every 20 minutes, which is exactly the average interval between races at the track. You're receiving race results, and each result affects your mood in court. You haven't had a good day today, do you know why? Because the way you gamble on horses is similar to the way you practice law—you always like to go for the big score."
"...A good story."
Harrison Powell noticed the strange looks from the others and forced a smile. "But as I said, you can't prove it. In fact, it's all your speculation."
At this point, he perked up, his eyes sharpening again, ready to launch into his prepared attack about Chuck's Asperger's syndrome.
He had originally planned to use this as his ace in the hole, only deploying it at crucial moments, because while it could offset a large part of the credibility of Chuck's testimony, it might also bring sympathy for Chuck as someone with a disability and unavoidable pressure from the disability rights community.
However, now he felt it was time, because he himself was already nearing his breaking point.
"The result of the fifth horse race will be in eight seconds,"
Chuck said calmly, adjusting his glasses. "8, 7, 6..."
All eyes turned to Harrison Powell's BlackBerry on the defense table. As Chuck counted down, the jury members watched with growing excitement.
Harrison Powell desperately wanted to snatch the BlackBerry, but his rationality prevailed; he knew he couldn't do that, or he'd be admitting guilt. He could only hope Chuck miscalculated. A delay of ten seconds or so would allow him to mock Chuck while discreetly putting away his phone.
But how could Chuck possibly be wrong?
Aside from his expertise in various gambling methods and his exceptional memory, even if an error occurred due to unforeseen circumstances, Anna behind his prosthetic eyes would naturally correct it for him.
So, when Chuck's countdown ended, the BlackBerry on the table vibrated precisely on time, under everyone's gaze.
A collective gasp swept through the jury, their expressions a mixture of shock and delight.
Being selected as a jury member is a civic duty, but it's far from a pleasant task. In fact, many people who are chosen find various excuses to avoid this obligation.
Firstly, most people have jobs to support their families, and being selected as a jury member means taking time off work. Many cases are already delayed, making things even more troublesome, and there's even a possibility of being replaced at their job by the time their jury service ends.
Secondly, being a jury member means being stuck in a small room with a dozen or so strangers to deliberate on the case. A unanimous vote is required to reach a verdict of either guilty or not guilty, and with so many people, it's easy to encounter difficult individuals, leading to endless, tedious sessions of compromise. And this is different from a regular meeting; it involves someone's life, and compromising against one's conscience requires immense courage.
These are relatively minor inconveniences. If the case involves a major organized crime ring, the juror's life could actually be in danger.
Therefore, most people generally dislike being chosen as jury duty.
But once they were selected, there was no getting out of it. After the initial excitement and novelty wore off, the rest of the time was as tedious as watching paint dry, with many jurors even dozing off in court.
Imagine this boring and tedious civic duty, and suddenly such a dramatic scene, more exciting than any TV show, appears—how are these jurors supposed to react?
Besides excitedly sitting up straight and watching with rapt attention, what other reaction is there?
"Why don't you pick it up and check, then tell everyone if your luck has turned around?"
Chuck said seriously, then mimicked Harrison Powell outside the courtroom, pointing his index and middle fingers to his eyes, imitating his tone: "Cross your heart and hope to die that everything I said is true."
Harrison Powell fell silent, meeting everyone's curious gazes, and reluctantly said, "Your Honor, I object!"
"Object to what?"
the judge asked.
"This is irrelevant to the case!"
Harrison Powell said, suppressing his anger.
"Judge, I object!"
the bald prosecutor stood up and said, "This is the defense attorney's own request for the witness to prove his competence. Dr. Wolfe is simply demonstrating this to everyone, and he's being very transparent."
"I object!"
Harrison Powell exclaimed, somewhat losing his composure, "This goes beyond probative value; it's a personal attack!"
"What do you want me to do?"
The judge, now clearly entertained, said uncooperatively, "Either show us the phone messages, or acknowledge the credibility of his logical reasoning and micro-expression observation skills. Counselor, you choose!"
"...I admit he has some logical reasoning and micro-expression observation skills, but that doesn't mean he can launch a personal attack against me!"
Harrison Powell said, frustrated.
"Is that a personal attack?"
Chuck stared at him. "I've reviewed the cases you've handled. In those 579 cases, you used these exact tactics 567 times to prove the prosecution and witnesses were untrustworthy. In your legal philosophy, to prove something, you need to prove the speaker is untrustworthy first. Are you going to deny my inference?"
Harrison Powell dared not respond. Compared to the past when he couldn't prove the truth, Chuck had pointed out a very convenient way to verify his statements—just check his phone. So he couldn't lie; he could only resort to the classic American legal strategy of neither admitting nor denying!
"That's a personal attack!"
Harrison Powell changed the subject, his face full of indignation as he looked around at the jurors. But unfortunately, the jurors and judge were no longer bored. They were all wide-eyed, watching intently as if watching a blockbuster movie, afraid of missing any details.
Especially for these jurors, this might be the most exciting and thrilling day of their ordinary lives. They don't care about personal attacks or anything like that; their eyes are full of "keep it going, make it as exciting and dramatic as possible!"
"I have no personal attacks."
Chuck bluntly stated, "Otherwise, I wouldn't just mention your socks, elevator shoes, fake watch, and financial crisis. I would say your paralegal was wearing your white dress shirt with your blood on it—you accidentally cut yourself while shaving, and you ripped her blouse. The part of her blouse peeking out from under her briefcase should be her original top. Judging from the fact that she didn't have time to change and wore your shirt, and the depth and evenness of her freshly applied lipstick, you two had sex within the last two hours. It must have happened on the way to court in your Porsche 911. I know you lawyers are very particular about suits and appearance; you would definitely keep spare suits and dress shirts in your car."
With each sentence, everyone's eyes followed his gaze, scanning back and forth between the tiny shaving cut on Harrison Powell's chin, the red stain on the collar of the white shirt under the paralegal's blazer, and the lipstick on the paralegal's lips. Everyone believed him, and their interest intensified.
Chuck looked at the female paralegal: "Does he usually tear your clothes, or did he only start doing it recently? Did he tear your clothes after checking your phone? If so, then you need to be careful. With the gambling losses and facing a financial crisis, he may develop violent tendencies. Also, remember to find the earring that fell in the car."
The female paralegal was startled and reached up to touch her empty left ear, where there should have been a matching earring with her right ear.
"You have a wife."
Seeing Harrison Powell's pale face as he tried to object, Chuck immediately interrupted him with his signature direct stare, looking at him. "That's evident from your wedding ring, but the inside of your ring is very smooth, and the size is slightly larger than it used to be, indicating that you take it off frequently. Clearly, this isn't for your paralegal/mistress, because she knows you have a wife and doesn't need you to remove your ring constantly. So, besides your paralegal/mistress, you have other extramarital affairs."
At this point, Chuck said to Captain Randy Disher, who was sitting in the gallery, "Captain Randy Disher, give her your business card."
"Okay... but why?"
Captain Randy Disher stood up, pulling out his business card, and belatedly voiced his confusion.
"Because she might need it,"
Chuck analyzed. "Harrison Powell's frequent removal of his ring not only suggests he has mistresses besides his paralegal, but also that he cares about his wife's feelings and doesn't want a divorce for various reasons. This paralegal clearly doesn't want to remain just a simple paralegal-mistress, so they will face a confrontation in the future. According to FBI crime statistics, murders caused by the mistress pressuring the married man to leave his wife account for 23% of all crimes of passion, and the man being a public figure accounts for 84% of those 23%."
Seeing the paralegal's shocked and terrified expression, Chuck calmly said, "Don't worry. Before, if no one knew about your relationship, the probability of you being killed and made to look like suicide was very high if you pushed for more. Now that your relationship is public, you'll be safe until he finds a brilliant plan to get away with it."
Seeing that his paralegal-lover's expression hadn't improved, Chuck bluntly added, "Of course, even if he thinks he's found one and actually tries it, I believe Captain Randy Disher won't be fooled and will bring you justice."
Harrison Powell's paralegal-lover: "..."
"I object..."
Harrison Powell had completely lost his former confidence, muttering weakly in a daze.
Seeing this, the judge shook his head: "Court is adjourned. We will reconvene at 9 a.m. tomorrow!"
Seeing the jury members looking on with lingering interest, he reminded them: "Defense counsel, I hope you can collect yourself and know what questions you should and shouldn't ask. I think from today onwards, you should be strongly opposed to purely personal attacks for the sake of personal attacks, right? Focus on the case itself!"
With that, he struck the gavel, adjourning the trial.
Some of the more astute jury members immediately assumed they understood the judge's true meaning, whispered among themselves, and then all wore expectant smiles.
Indeed!
Watching the East Coast's top criminal defense attorney, completely overwhelmed by Chuck's relentless assault, this one-sided demolition, while incredibly exciting due to Chuck's unbelievable abilities, would certainly be even more thrilling if there were actual back-and-forth.
The judge is indeed a judge; his sense of drama is truly sophisticated. Letting the defense attorney calm down and collect himself, given the opponent's status as the East Coast's top criminal defense attorney, tomorrow is definitely something to look forward to.
After the judge struck the gavel, he left the courtroom. Gold, the man with the ponytail, dressed impeccably in a stylish designer suit—even though he had spent the day in jail—nudged the dazed Harrison Powell, asking frantically, "Harrison, are you alright?"
For Harrison Powell, it might just be losing a case, or the complete collapse of his marriage, his affair, and his remaining assets. But for him, this was first-degree murder!
Even though this was New Jersey, where there was no death penalty, even though his sentence could be reduced repeatedly, and he might not even serve ten years, it was still prison.
He didn't want to spend another day there. Some artists could accept the traditional path, but he preferred the direct route!
Even though he already doubted Harrison Powell's abilities, having witnessed Chuck's devastating precision, where could he find someone more formidable than the top criminal defense attorney on the East Coast to deal with Chuck?
He could only pray that Harrison Powell could regain his composure and demonstrate the true abilities of the East Coast's top criminal defense attorney, otherwise he didn't know if he could survive prison.
Or rather, even if he did, would he still be the same person years later...?
"Don't worry!"
Spurred on by those words, Harrison Powell gave him a fierce look: "I can do this!"
"Okay!"
The ponytailed Gold could only nod, then was led away by the bailiffs.
"Let's go!"
Harrison Powell gave Chuck a long, hard look, said to his paralegal lover, and walked out.
His paralegal lover hesitated, standing there.
"What's wrong?"
Harrison Powell's face was grim: "You didn't actually believe his BS, did you?"
"But I truly love you, and you once said you loved me..."
The paralegal lover stared at him, only saying that one sentence, nothing more. Chuck's words had struck a chord with her, especially considering her own desire for commitment, and the horrifying statistics on staged suicides Chuck mentioned.
Americans generally believe in God, and consequently, tend to be superstitious, believing in higher powers. Chuck's ability to observe and deduce micro-expressions, even more powerful than a psychic's mind-reading ability, not only convinced her but also made her believe it was God warning her through Chuck's words.
Under such circumstances, how could she possibly continue to follow her lover and boss as before?
"This is my business card. Call me if you need anything,"
Captain Randy Disher handed over the card again.
Under everyone's gaze, the paralegal hesitated for a long time before finally taking the card.
"Son of a bitch!"
Harrison Powell transformed into a cursing mess, swearing profusely as he left.
His enthusiasm for this case, as Chuck said, stemmed from a desire to make a big score, hoping to ride on Detective Chuck's fame to climb the ladder of success and sell his books, thus weathering the financial crisis caused by gambling.
He initially thought this would be a very simple case, as Chuck's Asperger's syndrome was, in his eyes, the biggest weakness. But who could have imagined that before he could even exploit that, Chuck, with just a glance, would expose his long-hidden gambling addiction and extramarital affairs!
This was the kind of "personal attack" he used to achieve only after hiring seasoned private investigators and conducting extensive background checks!
And how long did Chuck take?
In the time it took to look at him?
How could he possibly compete with that!
Thinking of his helplessness in the face of Chuck, the betrayal and departure of his mistress and paralegal, and the potential domestic warfare his wife might wage upon discovering the affair, he could barely contain himself by simply calling him a "son of a bitch."
He really wanted to get drunk and then smash things!
"How did it end?"
Jane and Chandler, who had been waiting outside for the court hearing, came in and asked, puzzled.
"You wouldn't believe it, it was incredible..."
Captain Randy Disher recounted the trial like a stand-up comedian, his admiration for Chuck overflowing.
Jane was silent for a moment, then said expressionlessly, "So, you could actually handle this trial without us having to prepare anything?"
"I already told you that."
Chuck understood what she meant and bluntly reminded her.
Jane, who had repeatedly confirmed this and paid a steep price for it, remained silent.
(End of Chapter)
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