“Can you tell me who these people are, based solely on the wounds?”
He picked up each, looking carefully from one to the other. “No, I’m afraid not. There’ve been too many, I couldn’t.”
“Do they appear consistent with one another?”
“Y... Yes,” he said, taking a moment to look at them again before answering.
Megan picked up both photos and showed them to the court, then laid them on the judge’s bench for her to see. “The photograph on the left is of a lethal blow sustained to Liz Taylor, the other a superficial wound photographed by a nurse when Cathy Kennessy was brought to the emergency room several nights ago.”
“Objection,” Tony piped. “Your Honour, she’s bringing in evidence that isn’t even for this case.”
“It will be,” Megan said, her voice low and self-assured.
“Overruled,” the Judge said, looking from one photo to the other.
Megan smiled again. “Now, for the third part... was there a motive behind the murders that took place last month, in your opinion Dr. Ford?”
Harry didn’t need to think about that, as it had been the subject of he and Lance’s conversations of the past few days. “No, there was none...”
“Careful!” Megan interrupted, raising a finger to Harry. “Are you sure?”
“Well, you asked for my opinion.”
“Yes,” she admitted, “because it is an informed one. But just because we don’t know the motive, doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”
“Objection,” Tony said again, a slight bit of annoyance in his tone and he looked not at the proceedings, but at his nails, studying them carefully for grit.
“Sustained,” the Judge said, banging her gavel. “You can’t make the witness say something he won’t, Ms. Greene.”
“Thank you, Your Honour,” Megan said, nodding once to her before turning back to Harry. “No further questions, Dr. Ford.”
Harry smiled and nodded at her, watching her intently as she walked back to her desk.
The judge appeared to actually take this entire interaction in. “Cross?”
“What’s going on?” Xander whispered to Megan, even as he watched Tony get up and smooth out his suit out of the corner of his eye. “What’s happening?”
“Tony questions him now,” Megan whispered back. “Don’t you watch T.V.?”
Xander frowned, leaning back onto his chair.
Tony stepped up, walking casually toward Harry. He carried a folder in his hand. He held it up to Harry. “Dr. Ford, the defense asked you about the knife wounds on the victims... do you know what the relevance of that is?”
Harry squinted, looking from Tony to Megan and then back again. “I can’t imagine.”
“Do you believe those marks were made by the same killer?” Tony asked, turning to smile at Megan. A shiver ran down her spine as that smile turned to a grimace.
“Objection,” Megan said, standing back up. “The witness, while educated, is not trained in knife-wound analysis.”
“He’s your witness,” Tony smiled, shrugging.
“Over ruled,” the judge barked. “Watch yourself, Jones,” she warned.
Jones nodded. “Nothing further.”
Megan snapped a pencil.
“Did he just get you to discredit our own witness?” Xander asked, leaning against the bar.
“Not one word,” Megan hissed.
“Your next witness?” the judge asked, politely.
“The defense calls Adam Genblade,” Megan said, rising to make the brief statement.
Xander’s eyes grew wide. “Here we go,” he huffed to himself.
The bailiff moved out a side door. He wheeled in Adam Genblade, who was now strapped to a specially made wheelchair, with metal clamps securing every joint and a steel muzzle over his mouth. The swelling on his face had gone back down to normal, but was still tattered with cuts and scrapes from his encounter with Xander the day before. He was moved next to the witness box, where the bailiff swore him in. The poor man had to fight back snickering as Genblade swore to tell the truth.
Megan turned and gave Xander a look before standing up, playing with the ends of her skirt until it was just perfect. She walked toward Genblade, getting closer than she would have liked to have as his eyes danced over her longingly. “Mr. Genblade,” she began.
“Please, Adam,” he smiled devilishly.
Xander rolled his eyes.
“Adam, do you know the man seated behind me?” she asked, turning away from Genblade and glancing over her shoulder at Xander.
“His name is Xander Drew,” Genblade stated, snarling.
“Correct. And how do you know him?”
“We... studied together,” Genblade smiled, glaring menacingly at Xander.
Megan raised an eyebrow, casting a glance up to the judge. “Really? Where?”
“At the Church of Smoke and Mirrors, of course,” he laughed, unable to lean into it as much as he wanted to because of his restraints.
Megan forced herself to smile, cracking the calcium in one of her knuckles as she kept her eyes locked with Genblade. “But how do you know him, really?”
Genblade leaned his head to one side, staring at her for a long moment as he rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth. His eyes danced down over her body briefly, then travelled back up to her face. “Well, he is the Black Womb,” he whispered finally, smiling.
Megan nodded her head. “Of course he is. And what is that exactly?”
“A manifestation of a genetic disorder which resulted from meticulous breeding for decades by Engen’s top scientific minds.”
“What does it look like?”
“It covers your body in a dark, black film with red eyes and mouth,” he said bluntly.
“Why can’t we see it?” Megan continued, turning from Genblade to face the rest of the court, and Tony, as she spoke.
“It exists inside him until blood loss or lack of consciousness or emotional stimulation forces it out.”
A few chuckles had started to work their way through the courtroom, the judge banging her gavel against its mount to hush them.
Megan smiled at Tony, then turned back towards the Judge’s bench. “Your
