Crimes Without Evidence Novels & Stories

He rebutted everything my lawyer said. The most crucial problem was the lack of evidence that Gigi had hit Marie. It just so happened that Gigi's dash cam and the security cameras located at that junction had all broken down that day, so there was no footage from the scene of the crime. Even the previous eyewitnesses changed their statements. Clearly, Zachary had done something.

Lord help me here. She concluded, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is what Lawyers call circumstantial-evidence case. The people will present no eye witness to the actual killing, because there were none. But we submit that the lock of hairs found in the deceased’s comb, found at the scene of the murder, the mere fact that Katelin Akirdnach happened to disappear when the crime took place, and other evidence that you will hear in this case will convince you that Katelin Akirdnach is guilty beyond a reasonable doubt of the murder of Joslin Airam.”

“It was a mistake for me to say that you see but you don’t observe, because, in the very beginning, you didn’t know where to look! You were twisting the facts to suit whatever theory you have in that pesky little brain of yours instead of theorizing from the facts— Whoa! Two detectives! One real and one fake— Isn’t this exciting? “Is there anyone filming this? This particular story of one corpse, two detectives, and three evidences must have some sort of a record, hmm? Yes, there are three evidences to prove Major Vargas’ innocence; three evidences to prove that this boring Club President is absolutely incorrect. I would really love to have a record of his face once I reveal my deductions. “

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.

But it could never be proved. It would be easy for someone to lay this card down in the blood and most would then believe that they were involved. It was an easy way out. But The Sinners had also sued the cops and the FBI for harassment before. Always being dragged in for questioning on any crime with no real evidence they were involved. They claimed they were being profiled , and they laughed in court when they said they're just motor bike enthusiasts and nothing more. They apparentky all wore a secret smirk while professing their innocence. Everyone knows its bullshit. Everyone knows what they really are even the judges that had no choice but to rule in their favor. No evidence no crime an