Page 31 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part Two
“Nothing further, Your Honor.” The lawyer sat down, and Tobias stood.
He walked up to the judge, handing him a folder. His associate did the same with the senator’s legal team. “I’d like to submit this into evidence, Your Honor. Hendrick Kenley’s medical files. Seemed only right, given we are here discussing Hendrick’s medical welfare.” He walked over to the witness box and smiled charmingly at the senator. “Would you say you love your son, Senator?”
“Absolutely.”
“But I’m sure his mental illness has been a strain on your family.”
The senator frowned. “Of course. Especially for my wife.”
Tobias looked over his notes in his hands. “I can’t even imagine. You said you’d been dealing with his bipolar disorder since… what age exactly? Apologies, I didn’t note this down.” Tobias actually looked chagrined.
“Since he was nine.”
“Nine. That’s quite a young age, but supported by experts in the field. So how do you explain the broken arm when he was four? The burns on his hand at six? The perforated appendix at seven? Because I’ve done my research too, Senator, and a burst appendix that young is usually from blunt force trauma, such as a father’s fist.”
“Objection, Your Honor!”
“Sustained. Mr. Lecter, please keep the suppositions to yourself.” But when the judge looked back at the senator, it was with a lot less understanding.
Ted Kenley’s cheeks were flushed. “Nine was when he was diagnosed. He obviously started showing signs long before that. But also, he was a little boy. Anyone with kids will know how rambunctious and adventurous they can be. Accidents happen.”
“Of course, Senator. I myself gave my mother a few gray hairs during my childhood. And you are correct—mental illness doesn’t pop up overnight. Neither does abuse. If you’ll skip to the last few pages, Your Honor, you’ll find that these don’t contain the medical records of Hendrick Kenley, though they do seem remarkably similar.
“No, these are the accident and emergency records for Mrs. Elenor Kenley, who by simple science, has never been a ‘rambunctious and adventurous’ four-year-old boy, yet that break does look remarkably similar. As do these burns that were explained away as self-harm burns, but seem to be the exact circumference as the cigars the senator likes to smoke. Cubans, am I right? Or this spiral fracture in the humerus—attributed here as an unfortunate tennis injury, but most likely to occur when someone's arm is twisted behind their back with great force. Not speculation, Your Honor—that one is pure science.”
Murmurs spread through the courtroom, and the judge banged his gavel. “Silence.” He waited until the whole room calmed down. “We’ll break for recess. Counsel, in my chambers.Now.” With that, he swept from the room.
Tobias looked over at us, and though his face was neutral, there was fire in his eyes.
Score one for us.
Chapter18
Hendrick
We waited in the foyer outside the courtroom, and I could feel my father’s eyes burning into the back of my skull. I had no idea how Tobias had gotten my mother’s medical records, but it was a masterstroke.
I wasn’t an idiot. I knew it wasn’t me personally who’d turned my father into a sociopathic narcissist, so it was likely my mother had suffered that same abuse at his hands. I knew that, logically.
But the boy, crying for his mother while his father beat him… Well, that boy couldn’t forgive her for standing by and doing nothing. I could understand, but I would never forget it or feel sorry for her. She was the one with the fortune. She could have saved me, taken me away. Instead, she’d covered it up in front of my grandparents and allowed us both to suffer.
I held Aviva in my arms, inhaling her calming scent. She was the light at the end of this dark road. The candle that was lighting my way home. God, I loved her so much.
“Are you doing okay?” she asked quietly, looking up at me from where her cheek rested against my chest.
I shrugged. “It’s all old news to me, baby. Just another day.”
I could see Otto literally straining to not touch me, and I wanted to drag him into my arms too, to hold them both close. But I adhered to Tobias’s rules. That way, this shit could all be over, and I could love them however I wanted.
I tried to say all that with my eyes, and he gave me a tight smile in return. His parents came over, Letitia glaring daggers at my father. I was pretty sure she wanted to fight him, no matter how civilized she was. I understood the urge.
His dad rubbed my back soothingly. “You’re doing great, son. That—excuse my language, Aviva—vile cunt will get what’s coming to him.”
Letitia snorted, muttering something under her breath. “Are you ready to go up on the stand? I did some research on your father’s lawyer, and Roger Waters is just as dirty as he is. But he’s damn good at his job.”
I patted her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve lived with my father all these years; old white guys with no morals don’t scare me. I got this.”
She didn’t seem convinced. Just like Otto, her heart was too big. I could see that she desperately wanted to protect me from this, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t her fight. It wasn’t anyone's fight but mine. And I had some very good reasons to put this all to bed.
