Crimes Without Evidence Novels & Stories

I kept one eye on the entrance the entire time. She brought up something about a case she'd been following and looked at me expectantly. “Potentially.” She looked at me puzzled. “Potentially? You mean it carries none now?” I smiled a little, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Uh, no love. Some cases are likely to stand strong if the evidence is so strong. It's like suing the president for mass murder, an indirect hit on him but such a case can't stand if there's no solid evidence.”

It was happening. “Your Honor," I said to Judge Maxwell Lark, whose stern demeanor was beginning to thaw over the past weeks. "The prosecution's case is based solely on circumstantial and conjectural evidence. There isn’t a single shred of definitive evidence linking my client to the heist." “Circumstantial?” Whitfield sputtered as he jolted to his feet so quickly his chair scraped against the floor. “Your Honor, the defendant was entitled to—”

Walking around the table, he handed one to each officer, briefly explaining, "These contain an overview of what we've gathered so far; locations, hideouts, and potential leads." Returning to stand near his chair, James addressed the group. "We've made some progress in identifying potential suspects," he began. "Through surveillance footage and witness reports, we've narrowed it down to a few individuals who match the descriptions and the stories connected to the burglaries. However," he added with a serious tone, "we’re still missing important pieces of evidence to link them directly to the crimes. Without that, we can’t move forward with arrests."

he added, shooting me a smug look, “there was no ‘evidence’. Just blood. And a corpse. That’s it.” I frowned, disbelief gnawing at me. “No evidence? That’s highly unusual, don’t you think? A crime scene that bloody, and nothing was left behind?” Westbrook’s smirk grew wider. “Perhaps the perpetrator was meticulous, Miss Morgan. Not all criminals leave their tools behind. Just ask your client.” Suppressing my instinctive snarky retort, I thanked him and began scrolling through the images. Westbrook hmphed to himself and returned to his hushed conversation with his client across the room.

Then I saw him roll his gaze back to me, with a serious expression. "If a murder case leaves no traces or any evidence whatsoever, can it be called a murder at all?" he said through his thin lips. "You understand better than anyone, Miss. Do you get what I mean?" For the first time, I couldn't believe my thoughts. Jesse was right. How could I not realize this until now?

She had spent thirty years watching men far more dangerous than Frank Delacroix try and fail to build cases that would actually stick. Did none of them understand how the law actually worked? An accusation was not a conviction. A man's word was not evidence. Frank had no recordings, no signed agreements, no paper trail that led anywhere near the Lexus name. These were the most basic things in the world, and yet here they were, ready to fall apart over a single phone call.

Just above the writing that looked like it dripped down the wall. But so far besides this business card there were no other connections, no other evidence , no finger prints, nothing. The card could just be circumstantial , maybe placed there to lead the investigation astray. Of course I knew who this symbol belonged to. No cop or civilian in this town didn’t know who The Sinner’s were. They were known to be a motorcycle club. A gang of individuals that believed they were above the law. In all honesty most of the time they were, around eighty percent of cold cases all have the The sinners down as the suspected culprits. But it could never be proved.

Elvira couldn't say anything because Keira was right. Without any sordid evidence she was innocent, no one would believe her. Had there been any CCTV camera around the area, the footage could've helped them determine what'd really happened that night, but unfortunately, there were none around the area. No CCTV footage, no witness, no nothing. Just statements from people who'd attended the party and the evidence of the gun and it's fake fingerprints. That was all they'd to work with. That was all it took to paint her guilty of the crime.

Even if I was innocent, innocence alone wasn't enough. “What?!” Michael shouted. “My sister could still end up in jail?” “I'll post bail.” “It's a murder case,” Darius said nervously. “Isn't that non-bailable?” “Only if the evidence of guilt is strong,” Steffano answered calmly. “There are several things our lawyers can challenge immediately. For one, the murder weapon was never found. The fingerprints at the scene belonged only to Rebecca and the victims. I still believe the police found other evidence that points elsewhere.”

Barbieri was quick to ask for proof that any of the crimes were actually committed. "The prosecution has shown no evidence beyond some meaningless words," Mr. Barbieri passionately argued. "Where's the proof that my client was talking about committing real crimes and not just discussing movies or videogames with friends?" Elena wondered if the judge would really be swayed by these kinds of arguments though. With Massimo's serious expression and stern way of talking, it was hard to believe he was the sort of man to get lost in friendly games.