Brennan Malley: The Next Case

Chapter 1, Part 2

    I sat down on a bench chair, bored out of my mind.  I began to mess with my bottle of soda, turning it around in my hands and recognizing it's grooves and features.  I really shouldn't drink so much of this stuff, but it tastes amazingly good, and it's much better than being addicted to a kind of drug or something.  I need some form of indulgence during this pathetic part of my life.
   As I had predicted, when we began the investigation of a robbery, I had absolutely no idea what to do, and in the end, just got bored.  Finding clues and such just doesn't do it for me.  It's just like during a war.  The detectives find clues and help plan the battle, and then the lawyers fight the battle out.  Over my years, I learned to cherish that battle, and doing the preparing just isn't the same.  There's no intensity or anything.  So I just sat down on a nearby bench, grabbed a pop, and tried to relax.  Apparently, Michaela was so focused that she just went right on with her investigation and passed right by me, not even noticing.  Then again, maybe she's just ignoring me because I'm currently useless.  I could believe that.
  Yeah, I believe I sugarcoated things earlier.  My life wasn't just hurt by that fateful case, it was basically wrecked.  To be precise, I haven't actually obtained a job since that case.  That case was such a large failure on my part, that I am basically avoided throughout the entire city.  I've been making money through working at restaurants and stuff for awhile, and occasionally helping Michaela.  My life currently sucks.  Bad.
  "Honestly Brennan, moping?  I may have to reconsider my opinion of you as a being a possibly capable human being."
  Of all forms of response by whoever may have noticed my moping, that was not it.  Of course, as soon as I recognized the voice, my surprise vanished pretty quickly.
  "Hello, Brandon, it's been awhile."
  Brandon didn't move, twitch, or even blink.  One up close wouldn't even be able to tell if he was even breathing.
  "Before you begin your pathetic whining, you are currently depressed by the case from last year that started on February 3rd at 3:21 PM, and ended on February 10 at 1:51 PM.  It was obvious to see that you were depressed, and seeing the level of depression through your facial expression, your appendage movements, and your rate of blinking, the only possible causes of that level were either due to that case, or when you were rejected by that female six months ago, on July 18, at 10:53 AM."
  I wasn't even going to try and ask how he got that information.  Neither of us have talked to each other since that case, and we don't email or anything.  But when you've known him for as long as I have, you just assume that he probably does know, and am better off not knowing how.
  Brandon is, of course, the rival I mentioned before.  Possibly the most brilliant man I've ever met, and of course, probably the most statue-like I've ever met.  He once won a case with literally 3 sentences.  I'm not lying, it's in the records.  His intimidation alone scares the weaker ones, and the others he simply obliterates with his intelligence.  Of course, he's not the most sociable person, and until he and I faced each other in court, his only friend was his brother, who Brandon wasn't too fond of anyways.
  We met on a case dealing with insurance, and in the end I lost.  However, the case lasted a total of two days in the length of hours, and he won just barely.  Not only did this raise everyone's opinion of me, but Brandon was pleased by my capabilities.  We soon became the greatest of rivals, and our battles were considered legendary by those who watched.  There was even one where the judge decided to see how much money he could make by putting up folding chairs and selling spots to ordinary townsfolk.  The seats sold out in 3 hours.
  He wasn't just a rival though, he was also a tutor.  Apparently he saw something in me, although to this day I'm not exactly sure what.  He would often pass hints to me both during investigation and in court, and would often put me on bunny trails in court, to see if I could complete the puzzles he would set up.  And I in turn, became a good friend to his.  Being more of the calm and understanding sort, seeing more of the good than bad in others, I was naturally okay with things about Brandon that others despised, and we eventually grew to enjoy each other's company.
  However, after the large case, we hadn't talked.  I'm not exactly sure why, but we hadn't.
  "So what's been up with you recently, Brandon?  I haven't seen you in well...about a year."
  "Recently, I have been tutoring a bunch of pathetically minded adults who think they have some concept of what math is, but really have no brains whatsoever and would be just as well sitting the rest of their lives on their couches, getting obese off of common food products."
  I looked at him, actually a little surprised.
  "Why-"
  "Am I not still shattering the feeble minds of weaklings that call themselves attorneys?  It is simple, really."
  Brandon adjusted his glasses, by moving one arm and not even twitching anywhere else.  Anyone else but me would probably wonder why this man exists.
  "After that case, I knew you would fall into ruin.  While I knew you were wrong about your client, and did not know her true darkness, the outside world is not a merciful one.  So obviously, I put it all behind me, and continued my work, knowing I would not ever fight you in court again."
  He paused for a second, obviously in a dramatic fashion because he knew that I really wanted to hear what he was going to say next.  Jerk.
  "Fact is Brennan, I got bored.  My fights with you were different from any other, and they scarred my career.  I tried and tried, but no matter what, I found that I could no longer stand beating up upon the helpless.  I felt no satisfaction.  As odd as this may sound coming from me, you were actually worth something.  It eventually came to my realization that the only way to make being a prosecutor worth anything would be doing battle with you...and I knew that would be impossible.  So I became a professor on a complicated form of math that you would have absolutely no grasp of."
  I grinned, it had been too long since I'd heard that nonchalant ego.
  "And I'm guessing you got the job instantly, due to your outrageous achievements?"
  "Of course, anything else would have been impossible."
  "Well, at least one of us is doing well in this world."
  Brandon's features softened.  Slightly.  The reason it was noticeable at all was because his features never soften, so the millimeter that moved stood out incredibly.
  "I would try and help, but as you know, I am not that good at counseling others.  However, if I were you, I would feel some confidence that there was one who was affected by that case more than even you."
  I gave him a weird look.  What the heck was he talking about?  Brandon kept going.
  "Which reminds me why I came here.  I need you to do a small favor for me."
  My interest was piqued.  If Brandon was giving me something he couldn't do himself, it was bound to be interesting.
  "What is it?"
   He handed me a slip of paper.
   "I need you to visit this address for me"
   I looked puzzled.  Why would he ever need me to visit someone.  Then I looked at the paper.  At first, I didn't get it, but then it hit me like a firetruck.  Someone who had been affected more than me.  A mission Brandon couldn't possibly complete.  A visit.
  I didn't respond.  I didn't even look in his direction.  I got up and ran, faster than I had ran in a long time.  In my hurry, I accidentally dropped the paper, but that didn't matter, because I knew where I was going.  While I didn't figure it out what I was supposed to be doing first, I saw the name written below the address.
 
  ...Brea Ciao Dargis.