Sunderance Chapter 30: Damnatio ad Bestias Part 3

  (And here we are at last! It went from "Last update" to "Finished!" really fast! One part to this chapter remains. But we are out of the court at last. :D

The longest... Chapter... Ever. Many thanks to Rick - BillyBobBaggyBottom - for his help on this chapter. :)

Enjoy and thanks for your support!)

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The courtroom was a buzz of indistinguishable voices during the brief recess requested while the prosecution conferred with the next witness. The voice came from all around while the Chief Justice was in her chamber, while Judy sat at her table and prepared for what she knew would be the pivotal questioning of the case. Thus far, she had offered little more than evidence that the people of the city didn’t believe that Otterton had murdered his wife. Combined with the opinion of a reputable forensic investigator, and the thoughts of the well-loved Mayor of Zootopia, she had built enough doubt on the case that once actual evidence was presented, she was almost certain it would change the outcome. Still, she was going to drive the point home by directing doubt towards the one person she believed might have been directly involved in the murder. While she didn’t expect it to be enough to convict or even open an investigation, it would be enough to cast doubt on his testimony; testimony which had been critical in the conviction of Emmett Otterton in the first place.

Lost in her thoughts and her notes, she was not aware of the otter next to her watching her until she turned another page and glanced over to find his eyes on her. This had pausing and closing the folder before she turned her full attention, and her body, to face him.

“I don’t know how I can thank you for all the work you’ve put into this,” he said, his eyes bright and voice kept lowered so only she could hear him. “When all of this is done, I’ll do my best to make sure everyone knows what you’ve done.”

“I haven’t won the case yet, Mr. Otterton,” she said, her ears lifting despite her humble words. “It wouldn’t be right of me to get your hopes up until we have the final verdict.”

“With what you’ve shown me you have, and the way you showed the mammals of Zootopia who I am, I have no doubt that one of two things will happen,” he said, folding his chained paws on the table. “One, I’ll walk out of here a free otter with my name cleared and the truth about my trial exposed. It will lead to a lot of questions about how the justice system failed to notice how horribly it was being misused. Or, two. I’ll be sent back to my cell for however long it lasts. Word of what happened here will get out into the public, and the mammals of Zootopia will start asking the same questions. Given the state of the city now, I’m not sure anyone really wants that.”

“Change either comes with a roaring cheer or it comes with a roaring fire,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head slightly as she leaned over to place her one paw over both of his. “I’ll do my best to make sure it is a cheer.”

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Even with her earlier words, she had her concerns about the Weasel who was being sworn in, dressed in a surprisingly crisp and well maintained ZPD dress uniform. Every piece of brass was polished, every seam was straight, and there wasn’t even a stray strand of fur to be seen. Even his fur had been combed, making him look less like a weasel she might have been afraid to meet in a dark alley into an almost respectable looking member of society. She didn’t buy the illusion one bit, but it did make her curious.

She remained seated next to Otterton, the carrot pen tapping soundlessly on her notepad as her eyes searched for his without success. He seemed completely focused on the bailiff that swore him in, and once he was sword in, he simply sat with his eyes moving over the room. As if he didn’t have a care in the world and she wasn’t of any interest to him. She knew it wasn’t true, though. It was easy enough to see that she was of great interest to him in that moment, simply because she was the only mammal in the courthouse that he didn’t look at. The act of obvious dismissal was an amateurish tactic that told her that he was not acting as someone who had been coached to give testimony. He was just trying to get under her skin before they even began.

But she already knew he was nervous because of it.

“Thank you for taking the time to join us today, Officer Weaselton,” the Chief Justice said coolly before she turned her spectacled gaze to Judy without waiting for a reply. “The defense my proceed.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Judy said, wondering what could have caused that cool attitude towards the weasel, pulled herself from her desk and stepped out into open court. Whatever it was, it really didn’t matter more than possibly allowing her some leeway, which she was running very short on currently. “Officer Weaselton, it is always a pleasure to see you.”

“And you, counselor.”

The courteous reply did not catch her off guard. She had expected he would be coached on how to behave, if not by the ZPD then by the Prosecution, so she gave him a smile and nod in return before she glanced down at the file in her hand.

“I’m going to get right into it, because it’s already been a long day,” she began, keeping her voice neutral but not accusatory. “On the night of the murder, you and your partner, Officer Fangmeyer, were the first responders, correct?”

“That’s right, yeah.”

“You were the first to enter the house of the defendant? Was that unusual?”

“A little,” he admitted, giving a little shrug as he glanced at Otterton for a moment before return his eyes to her. “I mean, she usually went first because she’s the muscle. I’m just a little weasel and she’s a freaking tiger. Er… A tiger.”

“But not that night?” she questioned, keeping her eyes level on his as she let the folder rest against her legs.

“The house was for smaller mammals. Otters, obviously. So I just thought it would be better if I went in before her, to make sure things were clear.”

She saw the little twitch in his upper lip as he spoke, the line of questions clearly not what he had expected. Though she had to admit, whoever had coached him had done a good job of keeping the violent, aggressive weasel from showing the annoyance. She couldn’t even see it in his eyes. Yet.

“Was the night in question the only time you offered to go first?”

“I… Don’t remember,” he said, hesitating for a moment as he seemed to consider before he continued. “We go into a lot of houses, so I’m sure I went in before her once or twice.”

“According to every report you’ve ever filled out,” she countered, holding the folder in front of her for a moment before she walked towards the judges stand and handed a copy of the reports to the bailiff, “she always went first. Accounts that are corroborated by her corresponding reports, which also state that she always entered houses first. Even those for smaller mammals.”

“I guess that’s how it was then,” he replied shortly, almost impressing her with how easily he had reacted to being proven wrong. “Like I said, I didn’t really remember.”

“So, on the night of Mrs. Otterton’s murder, you broke with this long-standing pattern and entered the house before your partner. Can you explain why the sudden change of heart?”

“Well, I smelled the blood as soon as we got to the door,” he said, his tone still even in his reply. “I might have been a little concerned that, if the murderer was still present, there might be trouble. Looking out for my partner, you know.”

“Looking out for your partner,” she deadpanned, folding her hands in front of her as she met his eyes. “The tiger. Whom you referred to as ‘the muscle.”

“Objection, your honor,” came the voice of the prosecutor, causing her to wince inwardly. “Argumentative. That wasn’t a question: she was repeating the Officers previous answers.”

“Sustained,” Bellwether said crisply, looking down at Judy evenly from behind her glasses.

“I withdraw the observation, your honor,” she said quickly, which seemed enough to mollify the Chief Justice. This worked in her favor, too, because she had managed to slip the word ‘observation’ into the withdrawal without further objection.

“Let’s move on then, Officer,” she said, walking back to the defense table for her next piece of evidence. She held the small evidence bag close to her side as she approached the stand again, drawing the weasel’s forward set eyes to it. The curious concern in his expression was a good thing, but rather than let him see it just then, she turned a bit to the side and removed it from his line of sight. “Are you aware that Mr. Otterton has never received a traffic violation?”

“Objection, your honor.” She really considered at the sound of the Todd’s voice, that she shouldn’t want to punch a fellow layer, but that did not change the fact that she did when she glanced in his direction. “Relevance and calls for conclusion. There is no way Officer Weaselton can be expected to know the defendant’s traffic record.”

“The question moves to explain the time and place of the murder relative to where Mr. Otterton was at the time of the murder,” she argued quickly before Bellwether could rule one way or the other. “There is evidence to support this, your honor.”

“Overruled, but that question will be struck from the record,” the Chief Justice ruled, adjusting her glasses as she looked down at the bunny. “Mrs. Hopps, if you would be so kind as to enlighten the court as to Mr. Otterton’s driving history and then get to the real question.”

“Of course, your honor,” she replied, giving a nod of acceptance. That was not nearly as bad as it could have gone, given how much of her very limited leeway she had already used up today. “Going straight to the answer to that question, Mr. Otterton has a spotless driving record. He doesn’t have a single speeding ticket, has never run a red light, and doesn’t even have a parking ticket. And everyone in here knows that the ZPD loves to hand out parking tickets.”

There was a general titter of laughter from the court, which had her smiling as it died down. Then she focused her attention back on Weaselton.

“I’ve done a lot of leg work since coming to Zootopia, which I’m sure anyone who watches the news can verify,” she continued, pacing in front of the witness stand as she spoke before she waved on paw towards Otterton. “I learned a lot about Mr. Otterton. On of the things I learned about Mr. Otterton was that he has a weakness for sweets. In fact, this weakness of his led him to stop at a specific gas station not far from his house to purchase a single candy bar on the night that Mrs. Otterton was murdered. In fact, we have a witness that will testify that Mr. Otterton was at this gas station until 9:56 pm.”

The courtroom erupted in a series of started murmurs, but Judy’s eyes were focused on the weasel in front of her. Crisp uniform, combed fur, straight posture. He had even trimmed his normally crooked whiskers to be up on the stand. She had no doubt that he had been told to look his best, to put forward the perfect picture of what a good officer for the ZPD was supposed to be. But as his eyes darted to the receipt again, then back up to her with an almost wild urgency, she could see that this shell was starting to crack. She kept her eyes focused on him even as the gavel banged and Bellwether called for order.

“Is there a question coming, Mrs. Hopps?” she asked once the room was quiet again.

“Of course, your honor,” she replied, moving towards the witness stand with the receipt held out to him. “You seem a frequent visitor to that same gas station. The clerk that was working that night recognized both you and Mr. Otterton and said that you had both been there at about the same time. Can you please read the time on this receipt?”

“Uh… It says 9:55pm,” he stammered, frowning at the receipt. She could have sworn she saw his paw twitch, as if resisting the urge to snatch it away from her.

“And does the date match the date of the crime?”

“Yeah, it does,” he replied, this time after a bit of a pause.

“I submit to the court the receipt for one candy bar, purchased within three minutes of the time that the murder was supposed to have taken place,” she said, offering the receipt to the bailiff. “This receipt was recovered from Mr. Otterton’s car, in police impound a few days ago. The ZPD was gracious enough to verify that it is the defendant’s fingerprints are on the receipt and the night clerk on duty that night is willing to testify that she had seen him in the store. Do you happen to remember Mr. Otterton’s statement about that night when he was being questioned?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little weak now as he glanced around quickly. Now she thought he looked like he was looking for a means of escape. “He said he went to the gas station to buy some candy, then he went home and found his wife lying on the floor.”

“Do you happen to remember if this was ever brought up at his trial?”

“I wasn’t there for the whole trial, so I couldn’t say for sure,” he replied, his tone shifting to a little testy as she kept her eyes focused on his every move.

“Well, the trial was open to the public, so I would think there are a lot of mammals in the city that could answer that question for me. But I have already been over the court transcripts and the submitted evidence,” she said, walking back to the table for the defense to pick up a file. Once she flipped it open, she made a show of looking over it with the tip of one finger before she shook her head. “Not once was it mentioned. I can only assume that, without the receipt, the defense decided that it wasn’t worth bringing up in court. A costly oversight for my client, wouldn’t you agree?”

She was aware that the fox was standing and raising his paw to object, just as she was aware that Bellwether held up one hoof to stop him from doing so.

“Counselor, you’re not here to question Mr. Weaselton’s knowledge of what happened during the trial you’re appealing. Do you have any more questions for this witness?”

“I’m sorry, your honor,” she replied, mentally bracing herself for what would be the most difficult part of her case to get away with. “I’ll move on to my last questions.”

“Proceed.”

“Officer Weaselton, I mentioned that the night clerk on duty at the gas station recognized you on the night of the murder. Her statement says that you came in shortly before Mr. Otterton, but that you disappeared almost immediately after arriving. She assumed you had left the store already. Did you leave the store?”

“Yeah,” he said, clearly assured that he had the right answers for these questions, “because we got the call. I didn’t hang around long.”

“That’s surprising, considering that your partner testified that you were gone for some time,” Judy said, doing her best to look surprised by this ‘turn of events’. “Her statement says she were gone for at least ten minutes. During which time, Mr. Otterton came into the store, purchased his candy, and left the store. The clerk also said that you suddenly appeared again and made your way out in a hurry. This was at the time of the domestic disturbance call. Can you explain why they the night clerk and your partner have differing stories from yours?”

“Obviously, I lost track of time,” he said, and she was pretty sure she detected a hint of a growl in his voice. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

“Lost track of time,” she repeated, seeming to consider it for a moment before she shrugged it off. “Your partner also said that your better at obstacle courses than she is. She even said you were very fast for a smaller mammal. That must be a point of pride for you.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty fast,” he said, seeming to relax for a minute as the subject changed. He even folded his arms over his chest loosely, looking a little smug at the play on his ego. “Top five percent on the obstacle course.”

“That is impressive,” she said after letting out a little whistle to emphasis it. “Otterton’s house was only half a mile away if you ignored roads and cut across yards on foot. You could cover that in… What? Three, four minutes? Less?”

“Objection, your honor!” the Todd called, right on cue. “Relevance!”

“This is just a confirmation of my earlier line of questions with Officer Fangmeyer,” Judy said, looking up at Bellwether and trying her damnedest not to let the pleading show in her eyes. “I am just having Officer Weaselton verify what she already told us for the record.”

“Overruled, with the same limitations as before,” Bellwether ruled, turning to the weasel. “Officer Weaselton, the questions may continue but you are under no obligation to answer them.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Judy said, quietly breathing a sigh of relief as she turned back to Weaselton. “Do you need me to repeat the question?”

“No, no I heard you,” he said, his tone just on the edge of irritated. She could see his mind working as his eyes moved and his fingers clenched on his own arm. Weighing the risk of answering the question, trying to decide where she was going with this. She had seen it before, just not so openly displayed. Then finally, he looked up at her again. “Yeah, I could make that run.”

“So, in the extended period of time that you were away from your squad car, you could have run to the Otterton home, stayed for two minutes, and then run back. Might even have had time to catch your breath.”

“I…” he began, then paused for a minute before he nodded, “I probably could have, yeah. But why would I?”

“Just giving the court some reference material,” she said casually, then completely changed the subject. “Did you actually see Mr. Otterton holding the knife over his wife’s body?”

This change of direction obviously threw Weaselton off course as his large eyes blinked twice as he stated at her, then nodded his head quickly.

“Yeah, I saw him over the body, with the knife in his hand.”

“Is that the way he was when you walked into the room, or did he reach down to pick up the knife because you startled him?”

“It could have been,” he said, his whiskers bristling as her questions started to hit at things she knew he didn’t want brought up. “It was dark, I was staring at a bloody crime scene, he wasn’t expecting to get caught in the act. What difference does it make?”

“I would think you would recognize if someone was or was not holding a knife when you entered the room,” she said, raising the tone of her voice by a measured amount. “The crime scene photos very clearly show a paw print, the same size as Mr. Otterton’s paws, over the bloody outline of the knife next to the body. This seems to imply that it was on the ground, and he reached down to pick it up. So, I’ll ask you again, was he holding the knife over his wife’s body when you entered the room, or not?”

A few beats of silence followed. The fingers on his arm tightened further, and she was pretty sure that there wasn’t an inch of his body that was relaxed now.

“I could have been mistaken,” he ground out after those few seconds, his eyes darting to the back of the courtroom. This act compelled her to turn herself, glancing over her shoulder to see…

Nothing.

“Mistaken,” she repeated as she turned back to him with cool eyes and an equally cool demeanor. “So we’ve established that he may not have been holding the murder weapon when you went in before your partner for the first time since you became a cop, and that while the murder was taking places, there was almost no chance that he could have been at the scene of the crime. A time frame when no one can verify where you were.”

“You’re honor, I object!” the Todd shouted, clearly as flustered as everyone else in the stunningly silent courtroom as he stood with one paw in the air. “Just what is the defense trying to prove here?”

“Sustained,” Bellwether said, pointing one finger at Judy. “The defense will proceed very carefully.”

But she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t, and she was going to have to rely on the same weasel who had attacked her to make what she was about to do even a little bit acceptable.

“You could have made that run, couldn’t you, Officer Weaselton?” she said, moving towards the witness stand as even the objecting Todd was struck dumb for a moment. “You could have run to the Otterton home, broken into their house, stabbed Mrs. Otterton, and run back. And then to cover your tracks, you made sure that you were the first one on the scene so you could testify to seeing him holding the murder weapon while he grieved his wife!”

“Your Honor!”

“One more outburst, Mrs. Hopps, and I’ll…”

“You little country cunt!” Weaselton hissed, standing up in the witness box with his paws at his side, shaking with rage. The movement and the rage on the slender muzzle of the weasel were both so obvious that the bailiff took two steps towards Judy as the courtroom grew deathly silent. Neither of them paid the Chief Justice any mind as they stared each other down: one mammal with murder in his eyes, and one with determination and victory in hers. “I didn’t do nothing! And there’s nothin’ you can do to prove anything different! I already told you, you should go back to your little burrow where you belong before you get yourself hurt!”

The slam of the gavel rapped repeatedly.

“The witness will restrain himself or I will have him restrained,” Bellwether said in a tone as cool as ice. That same ice was carried over to Judy when she was addressed. “And this line of questioning is out of line, Mrs. Hopps. I will not warn you again.”

“Again, I am sorry, your honor,” she said, mollifying her tone until she sounded as contrite as possible as she looked up at Bellwether. She wondered if the sheep could see the gratitude in her eyes. Chastising her for being out of line was the least of what could have resulted from her outburst and accusations, and they both knew it. “I have no further questions for this witness anyway.”

She took supreme satisfaction in watching Weaselton settle down, collect himself, and realize what he had said. The cold fear in his eyes obviously had nothing to do with the warning from the Chief Justice. No, that sort of fear only came when someone realized that had screwed up something long planned, or worse. She saw his eyes flick towards the back of the courtroom again, then move around a little wildly as he sat unsteadily in the witness seat. She had a moment where she wondered what it was he really feared. They both knew that she had nothing to pin him to the murder, and they both knew that he was not even going to be brought in for questioning. She wondered for a moment before she turned her attention to the otter beside her. The otter who had, in his cell, looked so broken down and defeated, ready to accept his fate and the injustice that had been done to him. That otter looked at her with something akin to wonder, with a light in his eyes that had been all but absent before.

Hope.

So, when she turned her eyes to the front of the courtroom, and saw that naked fear in Weaselton’s eyes one more time?

She smiled to herself and found that she didn’t give a damn.