Without A Hitch

“Sounds like a guilty bastard to me.”

“He didn’t do what they’re saying he did, we did!”

“I don’t care.”

“They’re going to try him for what we did!”

“I don’t care.”

“What are we supposed to do if they convict him?”

“Then you live with it, Evan!” Corbin suddenly shouted. “You live with it!”

“No, I won’t! I can’t let an innocent man go down for my crime.”

“What do you want from me, Evan?!” Corbin pulled off his sunglasses and glared at Beckett.

“I need your help. We need to do something,” Beckett pleaded.

A chill ran down Corbin’s spine. His eyes narrowed and his lips drew back, revealing his teeth. “What are you suggesting, Evan?”

“I’ve entered my appearance as his attorney, I’m going to represent him.”

“You what?!” Corbin exclaimed. His whole body shook, as if he’d absorbed a punch.

“I’m going to defend him.”

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!” Corbin’s muscles visibly tensed and his hands formed into claws as if he intended to choke Beckett, but he didn’t approach him.

Corbin’s outburst shocked Beckett, but he didn’t back down. “No Alex, I’m seeing things more clearly now!”

“That’s what crazy people say, Evan, that everything keeps getting clearer!”

“I’m not arguing about this, Alex,” Beckett insisted. He paused. “I need your help.”

“Wh. . what?!” Corbin laughed in disbelief.

“I need your help,” Beckett repeated slowly. “If I’m going to get him off, I need your help.”

“My help?!”

“Alex, I need that big, beautiful brain of yours.”

Corbin’s left eye twitched. His scowl grew colder, more angry.

“If you don’t help me, I don’t know that I can get this guy off, but together. . we can do this,” Beckett urged.

“And what are you going to do if you can’t, Evan?!” Corbin demanded sharply. His voice became gruff and his nostrils flared.

Beckett looked down at the dirt and shrugged his shoulders.

“What are you going to do then, Evan?!” Corbin demanded again. He barely controlled his rage.

“Then, as you say. . I’ll live with it. But if we don’t try to save this guy, I will turn myself in to save him,” Beckett said in an apologetic tone.

Corbin stopped breathing.

“I won’t turn you in, but I will turn myself in,” Beckett continued.

Corbin glanced over his shoulder at the passenger seat of his car, where his gun lay hidden beneath a jacket. His anger temporarily blurred his vision. He turned and leaned his arms against the roof of his car, resting his head on his wrists. He took a dozen shallow breaths, trying to calm himself.

Beckett didn’t wait for Corbin to calm down before speaking again. “If you help me, we can get him off.”

“Have you thought about your family, Evan?” Corbin hissed, without lifting his head. His voice echoed off the metal roof of the car. “Did you forget all the evidence points straight at you? You’re going to sacrifice your wife, your job, your kids, your life for this fucker?!”

“None of the evidence points to me, your plan saw to that. As for this guy, it doesn’t matter who he is. He didn’t do this, we did. I can’t face my family with that on my conscience,” Beckett said with great sadness.

“This is fucking crazy!” Corbin screamed, slapping the roof of his car and walking away from Beckett. Beckett had never seen Corbin so angry before, no one had. Corbin put his hands on his knees and took more shallow breaths. “Why are you doing this?” Corbin asked himself, though he said this aloud.

“Because it’s the right thing to do. We need to right this wrong.”

“Why do you need me? You’re the trial attorney, not me?” Corbin asked in a distant, detached tone, which suggested he was still working this out for himself rather than speaking to Beckett.

“I need your mind. I need your organizational skills, your verbal acuity, your writing skills. I’m not good on paper, you are. If I’m going to get this guy off, I need you.”

“I’m not admitted in Pennsylvania,” Corbin said, though his mind was clearly on matters other than this point.

“I am. I can get you admitted temporarily through a pro hac vice motion.”

Corbin crouched down and stared at the dirt. Beckett waited silently. Finally, Corbin rose and walked to his car without looking at Beckett. He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He closed the door and stared out the windshield for several seconds before lowering the driver’s window. He still hadn’t looked at Beckett, who stood between the two vehicles. Slowly, Corbin slid his hand under the jacket on the seat next to him. He felt the cold metal of the pistol. He wrapped his hand around the stock and slid his finger over the trigger. One round rested in the chamber. Fourteen more were set to follow. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“I need to think about this,” Corbin said. His lips were dry.

“There’s a hearing scheduled on Thursday,” Beckett responded hopefully.

“You’ll have your answer before then.” With that, he drove off.

The daylight faded as the sun set. Corbin’s apartment grew darker by the minute. Corbin sat on his couch, resting one foot on his coffee table. His arms were spread out straight along the back of the couch. The last ray of sunlight, which lit up his face, was vanishing. It was the only light left in the room. Alvarez paced back and forth. He stopped and looked at Corbin.

“Do you think he’s serious?” Alvarez asked with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

Corbin shrugged his shoulders, but didn’t speak.

Alvarez continued pacing. “He’s going to risk himself and us to save some criminal? Unbelievable! Do you think he’s serious?” he asked a second time.

Corbin shrugged his shoulders again.

“What the hell is he thinking? Why would he do this?” Alvarez stopped pacing again and looked at Corbin. “Are you sure he’s serious?”

Once more, Corbin shrugged his shoulders.

“Ah ha!” Alvarez exclaimed, pointing his finger at Corbin. “You’re sure! I knew it.” Alvarez returned to his pacing. “I knew he was unreliable, the way he acted in Philly. . but this! Who the hell could have seen this coming?” Alvarez stopped and stared at the ceiling for several seconds before turning to Corbin once more. “What did he say about the wallet?”

“He never mentioned it. And, before you ask, I didn’t ask him either.”

“Why not?”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.”

“Are you sure he’s serious?” Alvarez asked again. “Of course you are, or we wouldn’t be talking about this,” Alvarez answered his own question. “Do you think this is the smart way to play this?”

Corbin shrugged his shoulders again.

“Man! What is it with this guy? Is he just stupid?!”

“No, he thinks he’s being moral.”

“What’s the difference?” Alvarez asked bitterly.

“The difference is he didn’t stumble into this. He chose this path, and we need to realize he’s likely to choose more wrong paths, not because he’s stupid, but because he thinks he’s doing the right thing.”

“He wants to go to jail? That’s what you’re saying? He feels guilty and he wants to be punished?”

“No. He doesn’t want to go to jail any more than we do. His only concern is that this guy doesn’t go down for something we did. If we get the guy off or get him to plead to something unrelated, then Beckett’s morals are satisfied and this can all end.”

“Ok, let’s go over this again. Why play his game? Why help him?”

“I don’t see that we have a choice. He’s going to do this whether I help him or not. If I don’t help him,