The guard starts leading Storm away, and she digs in her nails, growling.
"She knows Harper," I say. "Let Harper hold her."
The girl takes Storm's lead.
I turn to Edwin. "What do you want?"
"Due process. This is a trial. A murder trial."
"And you're the judge. No lawyers, I'm guessing."
"I was one," he says.
"And one lawyer is quite enough."
He doesn't quite smile, but the glimmer in his eyes awards me a point for that.
I continue, "I'm presuming, though, that if you've gagged Eric, I'm acting as his lawyer. Witness and counsel."
"Correct."
"As a former lawyer, sir, you'll recognize the predicament I'm in here," I say. "All I know is that Eric has been accused of killing your people. I don't know what Harper told you. I don't know what you might have found at the scene. There's been no discovery. No formal laying of charges. So I'll skip straight to the biggest missing piece. Motivation. Why did Eric do this?"
Harper tenses, but I nod for her to trust me.
Edwin waves the question off. "As you well know, Detective, motivation isn't important. Fact is what matters."
"Yes, motivation gets in the way of an investigation. It clouds fact. But this is a trial. Unless Eric has confessed, we need motive."
"We have an eyewitness."
I give him a look. Just a look. He grants me another point. Juries love eyewitnesses, but a lawyer knows how unreliable they are.
"Fine," I say. "Set motive aside for now. What is the evidence beyond your witness? You returned to the scene to collect your dead, I presume."
"Our people did."
"And you saw how they died? Albie killed at his guard post. The older man in his sleeping blankets. Harper's grandmother running for her life."
A grumble runs through the crowd. This reminder does not please them.
"What evidence do you have that Eric did this?" I ask.
"He fled the scene, which means we can hardly search his belongings for bloody clothes or a weapon."
"What you need then is a second eyewitness."
I glance at Harper. Her face is glowing now. She sees victory--I will be that witness for her.
"I believe I have your motivation," I say, and then I switch to Mandarin with, "Keep your eyes on me, please, sir."
His brows lift, but he does as I ask. I nod discreetly to Harper, who is fairly quivering with anticipation. I do not dare implicate my lover when he stands right there, so I am using another language to do it, a language I share with her leader.
"Motivation," I say to Edwin. I speak slowly, carefully--my Mandarin is rusty and probably the equivalent of a four-year-old's. "You know Eric doesn't have one. You can't even think of one."
His mouth opens. I continue, while sneaking looks at Dalton. Worried looks. Maybe guilty looks. For Harper's benefit. Dalton doesn't even frown. He trusts me.
"But I have a motivation for you," I say. "A motivation for Harper to lie. That is right in front of your eyes. I have something that she wants."