The envelope had pictures of Tyler inside, pictures of him in what looked like protests, pictures of him at charities, just pictures of Tyler doing good things and a paper containing the address of Tyler's father and mother's phone number with their home address. These were things Paul needed for the case, yet it was suspicious that there was nothing about the sender in the envelope. The days went by fast, and Paul spent all of it preparing for the trial and a month later the day arrived.
The law court was packed as Paul walked in, even though the courtroom filled to the brim, it was still a joke compared to the number of people he saw outside. Reporters, a crowd of the MAGA movement, and other random onlookers, you'd think they gathered to watch the super bowl, it was a battle of strength and willpower, for him to push through the crowd of people cussing him out and the press trying to get him to say something. Tyler was already seated at the defense table in his jail attire and his hands cuffed, when their eyes met, the kid nodded to him, for the first time the boy was showing readable emotions, his hands where jittery and his palms sweaty, he had his face down throughout the whole time Paul made his way to the chair beside him.
"How are you doing Tyler," Paul asked in a low tune after sitting down beside him
"I am fine…"
"You look awfully guilty right now, you're making the Judge's job really easy."
"I hate crowds, I hate being the center of attention."
"Oh," Paul glanced around the court room to see that everyone in the room was looking straight down at them. It must be their first time seeing the infamous assassin in flesh and blood. He then turned to Tyler, "Well, to get the pressure off those lean shoulders of yours, there are more people outside than there are in here. And, this trial is also being broadcasted on TV, we have the president to thank for that, so you'll have at least millions around the world watching you today."
The look Tyler gave Paul almost made him choke on his own spit in laughter, a kid described as a cold blooded assassin in the media yet, here he is looking at him like a stray cat begging for the food you're just about chew. He was surprised when the president gave the order to televise the freaking trial, it was a losing game for Tyler already and adding millions of eyes from all over the world to put extra pressure on the Judge might be the final nail in his coffin. He looked across the aisle, to the prosecution team, District attorney Rafael Barra stood tall, crisp suit, they've battled against each other for at least three times and he lost all three, the man was almost fifty, yet he still loves the spotlight more than teenage girls on Tiktok .
His second chair was Claire Henson, flipping through her files like an addict trying to find the last bag of cocaine. She was his little rat, always sneaking and sniffing using whatever method accessible to find incriminating evidence. The woman should also be forty, yet it seemed she was cursed with serving Rafael Barra.
"All rise for the Honorable Judge Tony Graff," The bailiff's voice rang out
Paul and everyone else in the room stood up to their feet, the judge entered, he scanned the room, his eyes paused briefly on Tyler, then he strolled to his bench and sat. Tony Graf was old, grey hairs covered his head and beards, he moved slowly and sat down.
Then he cleared his throat,
"The people of the state versus Tyler Robson, charged with murder in the first degree. Are the parties ready to proceed?"
Rafael Barra's voice was sharp, "the people are ready, your honor."
Paul Goodman smoothed his jacket, "the defense is ready."
A hush fell, reporters bent over their notepads, cameras clicked softly.
Judge Graff nodded, "Very well. We will begin with opening statements. Mr. Barra, you may proceed."
Rafael Barra rose, buttoned his suit jacket, and stepped into the center of the courtroom like it was a stage and he was the celebrity.
"Your honor, the evidence you are about to hear is overwhelming. The man sitting at that table, Tyler Robson is not just a criminal, he is a cold, calculated assassin. He planned, he prepared, and he executed a public figure in broad daylight. And we can prove it."
He let the words hang, and then he paced slowly, hands clasped behind his back.
"You will see the digital trail he left behind. Chat logs, where he spoke of the hit…"
Paul turned to Tyler, did this kid really fucking talk about the fucking assassination on whatsapp?
"I don't know what he's talking about," Tyler said, as if he read what was on Paul's mind
"You will hear from the forensic experts who matched his DNA to the crime scene. You will hear from investigators, every piece of evidence leads back to one man: Tyler Robson."
Barra paused, turned his gaze briefly toward Tyler, then back to the judge.
"This was not an accident. This was not a mistake. It was a choice. A deliberate, violent choice to take a life because he didn't agree with the views of the victim, he did this heinous crime in the presence of his wife and in the presence of children. He didn't just take any life, he took the life a leader, a father and a husband. A man that has always given voice to millions, a man that was always open to civil debates, a man that gave hope to many around the world."
His tone hardened, voice dropping lower.
"Your Honor, justice cannot bend to sympathy. It cannot bend to excuses. The people of this state, the people of this nation are watching. They expect justice for their leader. And Justice meant holding Tyler Robson fully accountable for the life he took."
He stepped closer to the bench
"At the conclusion of this trial, the people will ask you for only one verdict: guilty of murder in the first degree, guilty of aggravated murder. And we will ask for the punishment that fits the crime."
Barra's jaw tightened as he delivered the last line
"Death."
Then he turned, calm and composed, and returned to his seat.