thousands of dollars’ worth of caps and a bleached-white smile. “Well, we are a bit curious about you, I must admit. As you know, Her Highness did not consult with us prior to hiring you. Frankly, we found out about it from the media.” He didn’t have to spell out what a breach of protocol that was.
“I was a bit surprised myself, to say the least. A friend of hers married to an American had read about the cases I’ve handled and recommended me.”
“We understand you recently tried a case in Savannah, Georgia, in which you applied your defense theory. Something called the slow trigger,” Sir Fredic said. Despite what he probably thought was a neutral tone, Marlowe easily picked up a negative attitude underlining it.
“Slow trigger is what the American news media has come to call it. I don’t have a name for it, but it seems to commonly pop up in the cases I’ve handled where abused women killed their husbands. Rather than a legal theory, it’s a fact pattern that arises from the cases.”
“You’ll have to familiarize us with the theory,” Trent said. “I’m afraid those of us in the justice business in the old country are not as progressive as you Americans are.”
Trent’s tone again was neutral, but she knew he was being both condescending and deceitful. He was a good attorney, handling one of the most famous legal cases in history—and his client had reached across the ocean to hire another attorney. He had to be shitting bricks since the news broke that the princess had hired an infamous American trial attorney. What did the princess tell him? Did she make it clear that Marlowe was lead counsel? Marlowe didn’t need a crystal ball to realize that the princess had certainly not told Trent that he was to be second chair. If she had, Philip Hall would not have referred to Trent as lead counsel.
She also didn’t need a fortune-teller to realize that from the moment the news broke that the princess had hired her, Trent and his team had been frantically researching her, that they already knew everything about her, from her bra size to the color of her toenail paint. They not only already knew her trial strategy, but no doubt had been playing a game of devil’s advocate to see how many holes they could punch in it.
She played along with the charade, knowing also that she had been hustled from the airport so they could talk to her before she had a chance to express her theories to the press: Trent and his cohorts wanted to make sure they censored out anything that did not please them.
“I understand Britain and America have similar laws concerning homicide defenses and mitigation,” she said.
Lord Finfall snorted. “Of course we do. You Americans got your legal system from Britain. Most of the present foundation of the laws on homicide are centuries old, many even go back to Roman times.”
Marlowe smiled and nodded. What an old ass he was. “And as you all know, I’m sure better than me, a mitigating defense for murder, to reduce it to manslaughter, is what we call heat of passion, not really in reference to romantic passion, but used in the sense of a sudden, violent anger. The law understands that some people are reasonably provoked into reacting violently to an emotional situation. One issue always present is the reasonableness of the provocation—was the victim’s actions such that we can understand the defendant’s reaction to it? Traditionally, the real key to the defense is not whether the provocation itself was of a nature to justify—juries often find the provocation justified when it involves emotional responses to situations like spousal abuse, infidelity, cruel insults, and the like.”
As she spoke, it occurred to her that not only were the judge and attorneys already well briefed on the defense—it had to be on their minds from the moment they were hired—but that even the two members of the team who were not attorneys had to be knowledgeable about mitigating
“I was a bit surprised myself, to say the least. A friend of hers married to an American had read about the cases I’ve handled and recommended me.”
“We understand you recently tried a case in Savannah, Georgia, in which you applied your defense theory. Something called the slow trigger,” Sir Fredic said. Despite what he probably thought was a neutral tone, Marlowe easily picked up a negative attitude underlining it.
“Slow trigger is what the American news media has come to call it. I don’t have a name for it, but it seems to commonly pop up in the cases I’ve handled where abused women killed their husbands. Rather than a legal theory, it’s a fact pattern that arises from the cases.”
“You’ll have to familiarize us with the theory,” Trent said. “I’m afraid those of us in the justice business in the old country are not as progressive as you Americans are.”
Trent’s tone again was neutral, but she knew he was being both condescending and deceitful. He was a good attorney, handling one of the most famous legal cases in history—and his client had reached across the ocean to hire another attorney. He had to be shitting bricks since the news broke that the princess had hired an infamous American trial attorney. What did the princess tell him? Did she make it clear that Marlowe was lead counsel? Marlowe didn’t need a crystal ball to realize that the princess had certainly not told Trent that he was to be second chair. If she had, Philip Hall would not have referred to Trent as lead counsel.
She also didn’t need a fortune-teller to realize that from the moment the news broke that the princess had hired her, Trent and his team had been frantically researching her, that they already knew everything about her, from her bra size to the color of her toenail paint. They not only already knew her trial strategy, but no doubt had been playing a game of devil’s advocate to see how many holes they could punch in it.
She played along with the charade, knowing also that she had been hustled from the airport so they could talk to her before she had a chance to express her theories to the press: Trent and his cohorts wanted to make sure they censored out anything that did not please them.
“I understand Britain and America have similar laws concerning homicide defenses and mitigation,” she said.
Lord Finfall snorted. “Of course we do. You Americans got your legal system from Britain. Most of the present foundation of the laws on homicide are centuries old, many even go back to Roman times.”
Marlowe smiled and nodded. What an old ass he was. “And as you all know, I’m sure better than me, a mitigating defense for murder, to reduce it to manslaughter, is what we call heat of passion, not really in reference to romantic passion, but used in the sense of a sudden, violent anger. The law understands that some people are reasonably provoked into reacting violently to an emotional situation. One issue always present is the reasonableness of the provocation—was the victim’s actions such that we can understand the defendant’s reaction to it? Traditionally, the real key to the defense is not whether the provocation itself was of a nature to justify—juries often find the provocation justified when it involves emotional responses to situations like spousal abuse, infidelity, cruel insults, and the like.”
As she spoke, it occurred to her that not only were the judge and attorneys already well briefed on the defense—it had to be on their minds from the moment they were hired—but that even the two members of the team who were not attorneys had to be knowledgeable about mitigating
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