Chapter 208: Shocking the Entire Courtroom! Detective Chuck: "Who Agrees With What I Said? Who Disagrees?"
In the courtroom.
The gallery was packed, and bailiffs stood outside managing the queue, which stretched as far as the eye could see.
In the American legal system, courtroom trials are open to the public, but it's first-come, first-served. Once the courtroom reaches capacity, only when someone leaves can others be allowed to enter in an orderly fashion by the bailiffs to maintain fire code compliance.
Chuck's case was already generating buzz, and with the East Coast's top lawyer's redemption story on television, the excitement from yesterday's trial spread even faster.
People have a natural tendency for rubbernecking, and ordinary Americans, with limited entertainment budgets and options, are especially inclined to follow trending topics.
Therefore, even though the bailiffs repeatedly reminded everyone that the courtroom was full and there probably wouldn't be any boring moments causing people to leave, they still didn't disperse.
Some people came clearly prepared, immediately setting down folding stools and scrolling through their phones. Others wore those portable seat cushions that strap to your waist, providing instant sitting support.
Inside the courtroom,
everyone was animated, whispering amongst themselves, their eyes gleaming with anticipation, brimming with the excitement of an upcoming blockbuster.
The jury was no exception.
Only when the bailiff announced, "All rise," did everyone quiet down and watch the judge enter.
The trial officially began.
Chuck took the witness stand. Although the bald prosecutor wanted to go through standard procedure and help establish continuity from yesterday's proceedings, under the eager gazes of the jury members, he could only respect these "VIP" audience members and allowed the defense attorney to continue yesterday's cross-examination.
In the defendant's dock, Gold, with his signature ponytail, was no longer dressed as flamboyantly. He looked mentally unstable; it had been almost a week, and even this artist was nearing his breaking point.
His lawyer, Harrison Powell, didn't say anything. This state wasn't necessarily bad; it might even be useful for a last-resort psychiatric defense if things went south.
"Dr. Wolfe," he said, "there's a key piece of information in your testimony: you assumed the crime scene was in the art gallery. You speculated that the killer didn't just grab the most convenient artwork, but instead walked several steps to retrieve a less convenient piece because the artwork that was closest was created by my client, Mr. Evan Gold. Is that correct?"
Harrison Powell took a deep breath, stood up, and slowly walked toward Chuck, asking cautiously.
"Yes,"
Chuck nodded.
"The question is, in your theory, how did you determine that the art gallery was the crime scene?"
Harrison Powell tried to meet Chuck's gaze, but after only a few seconds, he guiltily looked away and glanced around at everyone. "The truth is, the killer could have committed the crime elsewhere and then transported the body to the art gallery to stage the scene. You weren't there and didn't witness it, so this so-called deduction that he wouldn't randomly pick up my client's artwork is flawed from the start, isn't it?"
"No."
Chuck looked at him. "I'm absolutely certain that the art gallery was the crime scene. This can be reconstructed through forensic trace evidence analysis."
He glanced at the bald prosecutor.
"Your Honor, members of the jury, may I present the reconstruction process prepared by Dr. Wolfe?"
The bald prosecutor smiled and stood up.
"Granted."
The judge nodded, indicating that the prosecutor should proceed.
The bald prosecutor plugged the USB drive into the laptop and projected it onto the screen. It was a 3D animation: a man was committing a violent assault against a woman in an art gallery. The man knocked the woman to the ground, glanced at the nearby artwork, took several quick steps, grabbed another piece, caught up with the woman trying to get up and escape, and struck her on the back of the head, killing her instantly.
"Your Honor, members of the jury,"
the bald prosecutor explained, "this is a 3D animation recreating the crime scene based on Dr. Wolfe's reconstruction. It perfectly matches the various traces and evidence left at the scene, proving that the art gallery was indeed where the crime occurred."
"Who made such a realistic animation?"
Captain Randy Disher, sitting in the gallery, whispered to Chandler.
"I don't know,"
Chandler said, uncomfortable with Randy's close proximity, then looked at Jane.
"Angela Montenegro from the Jeffersonian Institute,"
Jane said flatly.
"Who's she?"
Captain Randy Disher was taken aback.
"Don't you watch the news?"
Chandler scoffed. "Washington, D.C., the Jeffersonian Institute, Dr. Brennan's team, Angela the forensic artist? She can reconstruct a face from a skull. Now, with Chuck providing the sequence of events, creating a 3D crime scene animation is child's play."
"Oh,"
Captain Randy Disher nodded, then whispered to Chandler with a puzzled look, "But Agent Lisbon seems upset."
"..."
Chandler's lips twitched. He glanced at Jane, whose mood had clearly darkened, leaned back strategically, crossed his arms, and gave the clueless Randy a 'you're on your own' look. Then he turned his attention to the courtroom, ignoring the matter.
What else could it be?
It's just relationship drama, isn't it?
Oh, and for Chuck and Jane, it should be relationships drama!
"This evidence has been submitted, and the defense attorney should have already reviewed it,"
the bald prosecutor said with satisfaction. "Any objections?"
"Of course,"
Harrison Powell raised his voice. "Like I said before, this is all Dr. Wolfe's imagination and theory. We all acknowledge his intelligence; he's known as Detective Chuck, but he's only human, not omniscient. He wasn't present at the time of the crime to witness it all. How can we be 100% certain he's not just speculating and guessing?"
"Can you find a second possibility?"
Chuck countered.
"..."
Harrison Powell paused.
"As the police and the prosecution, we have provided the most logical reconstruction, with forensic trace evidence that can be scientifically examined."
Chuck looked at him: "As a defense attorney, you can raise questions, but you must have substance and present a second possibility that accounts for these traces, instead of just vaguely suggesting some unknown alternative!
I am indeed just a human, not omniscient, but what I offer is a scientific theory that can be verified by others.
The murderer is also just a human, not superhuman; there was no supernatural power used to commit the crime, and no supernatural ability to stage the crime scene. If there really were supernatural power involved, there wouldn't have been signs of a struggle.
So, do you have a second possibility to offer?"
"I consulted several forensic experts, and they don't completely rule out other possibilities..."
Harrison Powell said reluctantly.
Before he could finish, Chuck interrupted him: "Have them testify in court. I'll point out exactly where they're wrong!"
"..."
Harrison Powell was speechless.
Evidence only becomes admissible when it's formally submitted, and both sides get to review it. So, after Chuck and his team submitted the 3D animation, he had consulted forensic experts overnight.
These experts all agreed that the 3D simulation best matched the physical evidence at the scene. While they didn't completely rule out other scenarios when he pressed them, they all politely declined his invitation to testify.
They had to make a living, after all.
Normally, they'd be eager to capitalize on high-profile cases to boost their profiles and earn consulting fees, but this time they were facing Detective Chuck, a top mathematician whose logic was airtight.
They held professional credentials; they couldn't just resort to legal sleight-of-hand and make things up. They had to maintain basic scientific credibility. While any publicity is good publicity to some extent, nobody wanted to be professionally humiliated.
Debating with Detective Chuck in open court would only lead to embarrassment, especially given his blunt nature.
The jurors and spectators were visibly excited, especially seeing Harrison Powell rendered speechless.
Brilliant!
That was awesome!
While the selected jurors simply found the trial exciting and engaging, many spectators who had come specifically for the drama were far more exhilarated.
Chuck was just too commanding!
They loved it!
It felt like when a superhero in a movie finally stops holding back and, in a moment of righteous anger, unleashes their full power, leaving everyone stunned for a moment before erupting in cheers.
Forget the legal technicalities;
all they wanted was the most direct emotional satisfaction and catharsis!
Besides, subconsciously, they all knew that defense lawyers were often shady; it was always these lawyers who made honest, good people look bad. When had they ever seen an honest, good person make a slick lawyer speechless? Especially the number one defense attorney on the East Coast!
So even though they didn't necessarily relate to the highly intelligent Chuck, compared to the smooth-talking lawyers they encountered more often and distrusted, they were clearly more willing to root for Chuck!
"Order!"
The judge had to bang his gavel to quiet the noisy courtroom. He glanced somewhat helplessly at Harrison Powell, who stood speechless after being challenged, and reminded him, "Counselor, do you have anything else to say? If not, we can move on to your next question."
"Yes, Your Honor."
Harrison Powell, jolted by the judge's 'you're blowing your chance' expression, quickly moved past that line of questioning, turned around, took a few steps, composed himself, and prepared for his next angle of attack.
That's right!
The reason the judge chose to adjourn yesterday wasn't, as the jury members imagined, to give them a more exciting back-and-forth showdown, but rather because the judge and Harrison Powell had a prior relationship, and the judge was discreetly helping him.
They were even teammates in a weekly basketball league; how could someone not provide quiet assistance within their authority when they had that kind of connection?
The revolving door between the legal profession and the judiciary enables exactly this kind of thing.
Of course, this relationship was limited to subtle assistance. He was unwilling and didn't dare to openly and blatantly show favoritism.
"Your Honor, I request to present Evidence Number 4 and Evidence Number 5."
Harrison Powell glanced at his notes, composed himself, turned to the judge, and announced clearly.
The judge granted his request, and the bailiffs first brought Evidence Number 4 into the courtroom, removing the covering from the tall sculpture of a new goddess.
"Dr. Wolfe, is this the statue you saw in my client's studio?"
Harrison Powell asked.
"Yes,"
Chuck glanced at it and nodded.
"According to your reconstruction, this new goddess statue, which multiple professional sculptors confirmed would require over 12 hours to carve properly, is also my client's most important alibi."
Harrison Powell gestured to the new goddess statue and the crushed stone collected from the private driveway for Evidence Number 5. "You claim it can't serve as an alibi because you theorize that my client used a power drill to sculpt it, thus shortening the sculpting time and creating a window for the crime, and you even assert that the stone fragments from the sculpting were scattered on the private driveway of the studio?"
"Yes,"
Chuck replied.
"How can you be sure these stone fragments fell from this statue?"
Harrison Powell pressed. "Were they quickly drilled down with a power tool, or were they sculpted by my client bit by bit over many hours?"
"First of all, these fragments are made of the same material as the New Goddess Statue: Belgian gray marble,"
Chuck said calmly. "Secondly, Mr. Evan Gold ordered and signed for 2 tons of this marble, and the combined weight of these fragments and the New Goddess Statue is close to 2 tons. The reason they're slightly lighter is due to marble dust loss during the carving process. Also, the size of the fragments produced by power-drilled sculptures and hand-carved sculptures is different. Therefore, it can be proven that Evan Gold sculpted quickly with a power drill and did not spend more than 12 hours hand-carving, so there is no alibi."
"Similar material and weight,"
Harrison Powell smiled. "But that doesn't confirm what you're claiming. My client is a well-known New York sculptor who has commissioned works from Belgian gray marble more than once. He also admitted to experimenting with less artistic power drill techniques. These fragments could be from a previous project. It's all circumstantial. Can you definitively rule out the possibility of such a coincidence?"
He looked around and added with a slight smirk, "Unless you can reassemble these fragments back into a 2-ton marble block, you can never definitively rule out the possibility of such a coincidence!"
Everyone couldn't help but chuckle.
The fragments were so small—thousands upon thousands of them—how could they possibly be reassembled?
Many people have done jigsaw puzzles, LEGO sets, and model kits. Even with patterns and step-by-step instructions, the more pieces there are, the harder it is to assemble, because just sorting the pieces takes enormous time.
With projects involving thousands of pieces, even a skilled person would need several days, let alone one without any instructions, where the 'pieces' are all irregular and there are no reference points whatsoever. A normal person would give up in despair at the mere thought of it. Even for someone with real ability and patience, assembling it would likely take weeks, or even months.
"Okay,"
Chuck's answer stunned everyone.
"Okay?"
Harrison Powell looked at Chuck with suspicion.
"Your Honor, I need adhesive."
Chuck stood up and looked at the judge.
"Dr. Wolfe, are you sure you can do this?"
The judge also looked at Chuck in shock, reminding him, "We don't have unlimited time to watch you assemble it!"
"It won't take long."
Chuck shook his head.
"Alright."
The judge had no grounds to refuse and could only nod, instructing the bailiffs to arrange things according to Chuck's instructions.
Now, everyone in the courtroom, already eager for a good show, became even more excited.
"Dr. Wolfe isn't joking, is he? He can actually do this?"
Captain Randy Disher stared in disbelief as Chuck stepped down from the witness stand and directed the bailiffs to dump and spread out tens of thousands of stone fragments.
"What do you think?"
Chandler, also watching Chuck's actions, mused, "I don't know if it's just my imagination, but I feel like he's actually kind of enjoying this."
"It's not your imagination,"
Jane confirmed.
As Chuck's long-term research partner, having collaborated on numerous scientific experiments, she had a decent read on Chuck's emotions. While Chuck was usually expressionless, this seemed to be a somewhat pleased expressionless state.
"Why?"
Chandler wondered aloud.
"Oh, I get it."
Captain Randy Disher suddenly realized something and exclaimed, "He likes puzzles! People like him probably all like puzzles and building things!"
Jane and Chandler were stunned for a moment, then nodded in understanding.
That actually made sense!
Chuck spread out thousands of stone fragments on the floor, studied them, and waited for the bailiff to bring adhesive. He took out gloves from his pocket, put them on, and quickly picked up fragments one by one. Once his hand was full, he applied the adhesive to the fragments and then pressed them onto the base of the new goddess statue, fitting perfectly!
Then, to everyone's astonishment, Chuck didn't stop and quickly repeated the process. More than an hour later, the new goddess statue had disappeared, replaced by a roughly square marble block covered with countless crack lines.
"Holy shit!"
Everyone was shocked beyond words. Harrison Powell and ponytailed Gold were completely dumbfounded.
How was this even possible?
Especially Gold with his ponytail—he felt a far stronger sense of artistry in Chuck's reconstruction than in his own sculptures.
"I'd say these are fragments that fell from the same marble block as the new goddess statue. Who agrees with what I said? Who disagrees?"
Chuck paused, seemingly unsatisfied with just the reconstruction, looking around at everyone before finally fixing his gaze on Harrison Powell.
Harrison Powell: "..."
(End of Chapter)
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