Free Final Exam: A Legal Thriller by Terry Huebner Page A

you’re ready to do something, please call me and I’ll be ready to make the necessary arrangements.   I’d rather bring her in myself than deal with some sort of a media circus.”  
    “Why don’t you let me know where I can get in touch with you,” Nelson said.  
    Ben reached into his pocket and removed one of his business cards.   He took a pen from his briefcase and scrawled two phone numbers on the back of the card, handing it to Nelson.   “If you need to get in touch with me, my office phone is on the front and my home phone and cell phone numbers are on the back.”
    The men got off at the third floor and headed for the main landing.   Extending his hand, Nelson shook hands with both Ben and Mark.   “Mark, it was nice to meet you.”   Mark nodded.   “Say, Ben,” Nelson continued, “you never said how you like it on the other side.”  
    Ben smiled.   “It’s different.   I’ll definitely say that.   Now I’m on the side of the angels.”  
    Nelson laughed softly as he turned and headed for the stairs.   “So they say, so they say.   I’ll be in touch.”  
    Ben and Mark stood at the railing and watched the Detective descend the stairway down to the first floor, then out the main entrance and down the sidewalk out of sight.   Mark turned and looked in the windows of the school cafeteria.   “Hey, let’s go in here and get something to drink.”   He noticed the sign, “ Makrateria ” over the door.   “What’s this ‘ Makrateria ’ thing?”  
    Ben replied, “Professor Makra allegedly donated the money to upgrade the cafeteria so they call it the ‘ Makrateria ’”.  
    Mark laughed.   “Isn’t Makra that funny bald guy with the glasses that does a lot of the bar review lectures?”  
    “Yeah, that’s him.   He’s pretty funny and he’s actually a pretty good professor too.”  
    They each grabbed a drink from the fountain, went through the cashier line and found a deserted table in the back corner of the room.  
    “So, what’d you think?” Ben asked as they sat down.
    Mark shook his head in a study of contemplation.   “Well, given that we didn’t know anything to start with other than the victim died in his office, we at least learned how he died, better said, how the police think he died.”  
    “True enough,” Ben agreed, “but it’s probably also how he did in fact die.   It would seem implausible that somebody would bash his brains in after killing him another way.   They can certainly figure that out quickly enough.”  
    “True, if they’re looking for it.   Given the nature of the scene though, did that really seem like something that a woman would do to you?   I mean, can you really see our client committing an act like this?   From what you’ve told me about her, this doesn’t seem to fit.”  
    Ben shook his head, “No, it doesn’t.   I can’t imagine her doing something like this at all.   It would be completely out of character for the person I know.”  
    “We have to ask ourselves,” Mark said, “what this crime tells us.   In my view, bludgeoning someone to death with a baseball bat strikes me, no pun intended, as a very personal act.   This isn’t like poisoning someone or shooting someone even.   To hit somebody over the head with a baseball bat, you have to get right in there and do it.   That doesn’t sound much like a woman to me, but I may be wrong.   I’m sure there are women out there who could do it.   My wife probably could have done it.   Also, if the bat was there in the office already, that probably means that it wasn’t a planned murder.   That would seem to indicate that something happened that caused the murder to take place.”  
    “More of a spontaneous act,” Ben said.
    “I think so.   It seems a little bit farfetched to me, although I didn’t know the victim, that someone would come there planning to kill him and count on the baseball bat being there and having the