Chapter 292: Court Stenographer: With Detective Chuck Around, Everyone's Lucky—Including You, Top Lawyer!
"Exactly right."
Police Chief Randy Tisher deeply agreed with the prosecutor's assessment.
If it were the former version of the East Coast's top criminal defense attorney, Harrison Powell would have pleaded not guilty without hesitation.
Because the conditions were ideal for it.
This time, the proactive choice of using the dissociative identity disorder defense strategy already demonstrated how devastating the blow Detective Chuck had dealt him in court last time.
A fallback strategy from the start.
For the client, being acquitted versus being locked up in a psychiatric facility as a mental patient are absolutely different outcomes.
Especially for Esther!
After taking on this case, Randy had done extensive research and naturally learned that Esther actually had prior experience in a psychiatric institution.
The neck scarves and wristbands she wore everywhere were to cover the indelible scars left from being chained and restrained in a Soviet mental hospital.
Given a choice, Randy believed Esther would never agree to her lawyer sending her back to that nightmarish place.
"Whether she goes to prison or a psychiatric facility doesn't really matter..."
The prosecutor, observing Chuck's expression, tentatively suggested, "The most important thing now is to lock her up so she can't harm anyone else."
"You're trying the art of the deal again—going straight for a plea bargain with the defense?"
Chuck looked at the bald prosecutor.
"That's how the system works,"
the bald prosecutor said somewhat awkwardly. "We're also trying to be fiscally responsible. If this drags out, the legal resources consumed are all taxpayer-funded."
"No problem—we can just print more money and export inflation globally,"
Chuck said bluntly. "What we don't lack is money and resources."
"..."
The bald prosecutor felt Chuck was being sarcastic, but wasn't certain, because it was indeed common knowledge.
With anyone else, he wouldn't care what they thought, because plea bargaining was his prerogative as prosecutor.
But this case involved Detective Chuck.
Not only would he need Chuck's cooperation many times in the future, but more importantly, he didn't want to antagonize him.
Right.
Everyone knew this man held grudges and had severe OCD.
So he could only helplessly explain, "This case is being presided over by Judge Jackson.
You should know that in his precedents, he frequently sentences defendants to psychiatric facilities in these situations.
And ever since that judge got caught accepting bribes and sending countless minority kids to for-profit prisons for kickbacks,
judges have been extremely cautious about prison sentencing, especially for juveniles.
Esther isn't technically a juvenile, but she does have a childlike appearance.
So it's really not worth fighting."
"Prison services are an industry, but aren't psychiatric facility services also an industry?"
Chuck looked at him calmly.
"..."
The bald prosecutor was speechless again.
It was practically saying, 'Judge Jackson, you don't want people exposing you for taking money from psychiatric facilities, do you?' It was too sensitive—he didn't want to engage with that topic at all.
However, under Chuck's gaze, he understood.
As long as he subtly conveyed this information to Judge Jackson in their private pre-trial conference, he believed the judge would understand what to do.
At the very least, he wouldn't dare openly favor the defense by sending Esther to a psychiatric facility and then pocketing kickbacks from the mental health services industry.
Because once word got out, even without Chuck's intervention, stakeholders in the prison industry would be unable to resist taking action.
After all, every high-profile inmate is money for both industries.
These cases are crucial to their reputations—even the best product needs marketing!
The two industries are competitors,
vying for clients, particularly high-value clients. The psychiatric facility industry naturally holds an advantage here.
Being sent to a psychiatric facility not only allows for legitimate "enhanced care" but also the possibility of early release to resume normal life, since mental patients are prone to "relapse."
In recent years, the prison industry has continuously improved its service quality, even introducing concepts like transforming cell blocks into "executive suites," allowing inmates to live freely during the day and return for overnight stays—essentially competing for high-end clients from psychiatric facilities.
Even if a major corporation operates in both sectors, it merely transforms external industry competition into internal departmental rivalry.
For their department's bottom line, they'll still engage in cutthroat competition.
"We'll do our best,"
Randy reminded him. "Anyway, we have Chuck!"
"Fine."
Seeing this, the bald prosecutor said nothing more and began discussing post-hearing procedures.
The court session began promptly.
"Dr. Wolfe, we meet again."
Harrison Powell, the East Coast's top defense attorney, looked at Chuck with a smug expression.
"Congratulations on joining the bachelor club,"
Chuck said bluntly.
"..."
Harrison Powell's face darkened instantly, immediately recalling the last incident.
Because of Chuck, he not only failed to gain publicity but also lost face, having his affair with his secretary publicly exposed.
The news of his chronic gambling losses at the track also spread after Chuck called it out in court.
After that case completely fell apart, his mistress-secretary left him, and his wife eventually filed for divorce.
This was one reason he had time to closely monitor every case Chuck was involved in.
There was no choice!
Having lost his mistress, secretary, and wife, and facing a financial crisis from his gambling debts, he couldn't even afford to hire staff. He could only grit his teeth and focus all his energy on a comeback.
He hadn't expected Chuck to see through him the moment they met.
After his initial anger subsided, he stared at Chuck with suspicion and uncertainty.
He wasn't sure if Chuck had truly read him again, or if Chuck had been monitoring him the same way he'd been watching Chuck.
The former represented an innate advantage in raw intelligence.
The latter left him unsure whether to feel flattered or terrified.
"Don't flatter yourself,"
Chuck said bluntly, looking at him. "If the prosecutor hadn't told me, I wouldn't have known you took this case."
"..."
Harrison Powell's lips twitched.
Alright!
He'd actually prefer the latter.
At least that would mean Chuck considered him worthy of attention, rather than what he was seeing now.
He lowered his head, not giving Chuck a chance to read his expression, because he feared that before even entering the courtroom, Chuck would expose all his unspoken thoughts and insecurities, driving him to despair.
"Meeting you is truly his misfortune,"
Randy teased beside Chuck.
"But it's everyone else's good fortune,"
an unfamiliar voice interjected.
Randy looked over and saw a bald, middle-aged man wearing glasses, gazing at Chuck with eyes full of admiration.
"Marvin,"
the bald prosecutor greeted him first, then introduced him to Chuck and Randy. "This is Marvin Dallo, the court stenographer."
"Hello,"
Randy replied in a friendly manner.
Chuck glanced at him and nodded.
"Marvin, you seem to be looking much better lately,"
the bald prosecutor said, looking him up and down with a smile.
The world isn't just about fighting and winning—it's about relationships and networking. Wherever there are people, there's politics—this holds true throughout history and across all professions. As a prosecutor hoping to advance, he needed to maintain good relationships throughout the courthouse. While the court stenographer wasn't a power player—practically invisible in the hierarchy—
the experienced, bald prosecutor knew a crucial truth: while minor players might not help you succeed, they could potentially cause disaster at critical moments.
Therefore, there was no reason to antagonize anyone.
That's why he remembered Marvin Dallo's name and was willing to show him basic courtesy.
He recalled that Marvin's complexion had been somewhat poor a few years ago, worsening last year, and he'd even inquired with concern.
Now, Marvin's condition was clearly much improved.
"I have to thank Detective Chuck for this!"
Court stenographer Marvin couldn't help but look at Chuck, his eyes filled with admiration. "Watching him fight for the innocent in court is the greatest privilege, restoring one's faith in justice in this world."
"That's the truth!"
Randy nodded in agreement.
Chuck looked at him. "Have you ever considered changing careers?"
"Changing careers?"
Court stenographer Marvin was taken aback.
Randy and the bald prosecutor also looked at Chuck with surprise, not understanding why he suddenly said that.
"As a stenographer, it's best not to let your emotions affect your work, otherwise you'll be easily influenced,"
Chuck explained. "After all, the cases I handle are a minority."
"..."
The bald prosecutor was speechless.
What absolute arrogance!
If he weren't mature and long past his hotheaded youth, he would've been tempted to argue with Chuck—for himself and for the justice system.
So only the cases you handle represent justice, while all the others don't?
You think you're above everyone!
Unlike his reaction, court stenographer Marvin and Chuck locked eyes, and Marvin suddenly fell silent. He smiled wryly and said, "What else could I do besides this?"
"Anything else,"
Chuck said patiently, ignoring the bald prosecutor's reminder to check his watch. "Didn't you say you enjoyed watching me advocate for the innocent? Clearly, you're someone drawn to light.
But neither staring into the light nor into the abyss suits you. What you need is peaceful work and life."
"I'll think about it,"
Marvin replied, startled from his thoughts by his phone notification. After checking it, he nodded to Chuck, said goodbye, and hurried away.
"Staring into the abyss, huh?"
Randy teased Chuck with a smile.
"The courtroom is a stage for one human tragedy after another. Isn't that an abyss?"
Chuck said as he walked into the courtroom. "Those who gaze into the abyss will be gazed into by the abyss. This job isn't suitable for people with weak mental fortitude."
"That's right,"
Randy immediately said proudly. "It's just like being a cop. If you don't have strong mental fortitude, you simply can't handle it."
"Actually, strong mental fortitude isn't necessary,"
Chuck said bluntly. "Being oblivious also works."
The naturally oblivious Randy paused for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "I told you Chandler could do it. Although his mental fortitude can't compare to ours, he could definitely be a cop and stare into the abyss."
The bald prosecutor walking alongside gave him an incredulous look.
If everyone didn't know Randy so well and understand he was just naturally oblivious, they'd think something was seriously wrong with him—not realizing that Chuck was calling him oblivious!
Everyone entered the courtroom.
Chuck and Randy sat in the back row of the gallery, waiting to be called as witnesses.
Esther, who was being held in detention, was escorted in by bailiffs and seated at the defense table. She whispered a few words to her attorney, Harrison Powell, then turned and glanced timidly at Chuck.
"Is she really an adult?"
"I heard she's 33."
"Those things really didn't seem like something she'd do."
Before the judge arrived, some in the gallery couldn't help but whisper among themselves, seeing Esther's performance.
"She's an incredible actress."
Randy turned to Chuck and whispered, "If I hadn't witnessed it myself, I wouldn't believe she did it all. By the way, could she actually have dissociative identity disorder?"
"Does it matter?"
Chuck asked expressionlessly.
"Isn't it important?"
Randy was taken aback.
Chuck didn't elaborate.
In his view, whether or not she had a second personality shouldn't affect the verdict.
Should a person with dissociative identity disorder avoid punishment for crimes?
Wasn't the crime committed by this body?
It's like a criminal taking a hostage—does the criminal escape punishment because of the hostage?
Wouldn't that encourage crime, since the hostage-taking succeeded?
Besides, this is America. Isn't the most common law enforcement practice to neutralize the threat first and ask questions later?
As long as there are no hostages left, problem solved!
However, he also knew that there are two completely opposing standards for everything—a characteristic of America.
This famous double standard is perfect for the art of negotiation!
The preferred approach is to acknowledge the so-called complexity of human nature, refusing to admit that inherently bad people exist, insisting instead that everything exists in shades of gray.
After all, if everything is black and white, how can one flip-flop between positions?
Marvin Dallo, sitting in the front row at the stenographer's station, couldn't help but glance in Chuck's direction and smiled involuntarily.
He was genuinely grateful to Chuck!
He'd witnessed his parents being murdered during a robbery when he was young. Though the robbery failed, they still died in front of him.
From then on, he suffered severe psychological trauma and lived an extremely isolated life. Because of his own experience, he especially loved Batman comics.
Unfortunately, despite experiencing the tragedy of his parents dying before his eyes, he lacked the financial means to become Batman.
He'd lived a muddled existence for decades, barely scraping by as an anonymous stenographer in court.
He chose this profession because, although life's hardships had worn down his idealism, he still yearned for light and justice.
He wanted to witness criminals brought to justice and participate in the process—something insignificant to others, but profoundly meaningful to him.
Unfortunately, reality is often cruel.
He thought he was witnessing justice being served, but the reality was frequently the opposite.
Even wealthy and powerful criminals, despite overwhelming evidence, rarely received fair trials.
He was tormented, returning home each night to transcribe testimonies and relive these unjust proceedings.
In recent years, he felt himself losing his mind, experiencing auditory hallucinations urging him to fight against this injustice.
But his remaining rationality prevailed, and he didn't act on these hallucinations.
Nevertheless, he continued studying case files, compiling clearly unjust verdicts.
He felt himself losing control.
During the last trial of the sculptor who murdered his wife, he'd been itching to intervene. His mind kept repeating, 'This is murder,' and it must receive a fair trial.
When he learned the East Coast's top criminal defense attorney had taken the case, he'd been prepared to take action afterward.
But what he never expected was that Detective Chuck would so miraculously defeat the infamous, system-gaming defense attorney in court, letting the light of justice shine brilliantly before his eyes.
At that moment, his severe auditory hallucinations diminished considerably, and rationality regained the upper hand.
Hearing Randy say that meeting Chuck was Harrison Powell's misfortune, he couldn't help but add that it was everyone else's good fortune.
In fact, more accurately, having Detective Chuck was everyone's good fortune.
Including Harrison Powell himself!
(End of Chapter)
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