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Joe Hennessy’s life had been a symphony of emotions, marked by the devastating lows of grief and heartache, and the soaring highs of love and joy.

More than twenty years earlier, he had become lost in a pit of sorrow after his ten-year-old son, Luca, was murdered. He suffered the torture of not knowing his son’s killer for more than two decades. There was relief when the truth was uncovered, but the anguish remained. That grief, that terrible heartache, had defined much of his adult life, a feeling that was always there, lingering just over his shoulder, ready to confront him at unexpected times. It broke his heart when he thought of Luca—his beautiful smile, his buoyant energy, his sunny personality—but Hennessy accepted that grief was a part of his life.

With Wendy, his wife, he had escaped the pain and grief of Charleston and purchased a vineyard Upstate, raising two daughters amongst the vines. After several bad seasons on the vineyard, the Hennessys struggled to keep up with the loan payments. When the pressure from the banks became too much, Hennessy returned to Charleston to practice criminal law, earning enough money to keep the banks off their backs. But returning to Charleston had been fraught with danger. He had defended some of the city’s worst people, and experienced shootings, beatings, and attempted stabbings. Through it all, he had remained steely focused. He was there for a reason, and his dream would become a reality if he could win Palin’s case.

As Hennessy passed through the security scanner in the Charleston County Judicial Center courthouse foyer, he saw a familiar face behind him. Hennessy waited for the man as he had his briefcase scanned.

“Mr. Joe Hennessy.”

Assistant Solicitor Aaron Garrett was a youthful black man, still learning the political ropes of the Ninth Circuit Solicitor’s Office, but a competent lawyer whose reputation was growing. In his early thirties, Garrett had a charming smile, a quick wit, and a powerful voice, perfect for a future in politics. “Good to see you.”

“Mr. Garrett,”

Hennessy said as they shook hands solidly. Hennessy respected a solid handshake. “Always a pleasure.”

“Might we have a chat in private?”

Hennessy nodded, and Garrett led him through the foyer, and into one of the conference rooms on the first floor. Garrett held the door open for Hennessy and stepped inside. The windowless meeting room was small, and the oak conference table took up much of the space. Five new office chairs, with barely a mark on them, sat around the outside. A musty smell hung heavy in the air.

“I must say I was surprised when I saw your name on the Substitution of Counsel order for Bernard Palin’s case,”

Garrett noted as he sat down. He drummed his hands on the edge of the table and leaned back. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself in for?”

“I’ve read the case file.”

“And you know the reputation of the defendant?”

Hennessy nodded. “I’ve known Bernard Palin for years.”

“When I first read the charges, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t think there could be a more despicable act. Palin was the accountant for the Wolfgang Berger Foundation for half a decade, and he stole from them every year he worked for them. Based on the evidence, he was about to jump on a plane, fly to Costa Rica, and never return. And the more I looked at the evidence, the more furious I became that he would steal from vulnerable children. I’m sure any jury is going to feel the same. I can’t understand how anyone could steal from sick and vulnerable children, but even more confusing is why you want to be associated with this case.”

“Bernard Palin deserves a fair trial.”

“The money was supposed to help struggling families. Families with sick kids and no money, or orphaned kids with health issues, or immigrant children with no other place to go. That’s heartbreaking stuff. You and I both know the emotional component of this crime will influence any jury’s decision. And the public, well, they’re going to have so much hate for Palin.”

“What’s your point?”

“I’m saying that, as always, that hate will rub off on the defense lawyer. You’ll do your best to defend your client, you’ll do your job, and the public will hate you for it. They’ll ask you, ‘How could he defend someone who stole from sick children?’ Is that what you want? To be hated by an entire city?”

“Any insinuation that the charges are more serious because of the victim’s circumstance is prejudicial.”

“Prejudicial?”

Garrett smiled and shook his head. He leaned back in his chair, stretching one arm out wide to rest on the back of the chair next to him. “This crime is despicable. The lowest of the low. We’ve got the media reports prepared, and it doesn’t look good for him. Bernard Palin is not likable. The media will eat him alive, and I’m surprised you’ll stand next to him. Everyone that sees you with him will come to the same conclusion—that you approve of his actions.”

“You can’t allow this case to be a trial by media.”

Hennessy leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “This is a court case, not a popularity contest. If public opinion decided criminal trials, we’d be no better than a lynch mob.”

“Don’t give me that spin,”

Garrett scoffed. He leaned forward and pressed his index finger into the table. “I’ll make it clear for you so there’s no misunderstanding—this will be a very public court case. There’s an election next year, and this trial will be a very easy way for our office to score points with the public. The jury won’t even spend an hour deciding on Palin’s guilt. You’ll look like a fool, and the public will congratulate my office for such an amazing job.”

“You need to win first.”

“There’s next to zero chance that we don’t win. Have you even looked at the case file? This is open, shut, wrapped up, sealed, and sent to the records department.”

“He claims he was set up.”

“Of course, he would. That’s his only excuse, and he’s only saying that because he doesn’t want to go to prison. I’d wish you luck for the case, but you’ll need a lot more than that.”

Garrett stood, tapped his hand on the table twice, offered Hennessy a half smile, and then left the room.

Hennessy remained seated, taking a moment to consider the conversation. The case was going to attract a lot of media attention. That worried him. And Garrett was right—Bernard Palin wasn’t a likable man in any way, and the charges were despicable. The jury wouldn’t warm to him, and with a convincing media release from the Circuit Solicitor’s Office, the public would despise him.

After a minute of quiet consideration, Hennessy grunted, tapped his fist on the wooden table, and left the conference room. He walked into Courtroom 105 moments later, where he was met with the strong scent of pine cleaning products. Brown and cream were the dominant colors in the room. The chairs were dark brown, their polished surfaces gleaming under the overhead lights, and the walls were painted in a dull cream color. The carpet was brown, the curtains were brown, and the ceiling was cream. The colors were bland and deliberately so. This wasn’t a place for fun—this was a room where killers, thieves, and vile criminals had their fate decided.

Hennessy sat in the back row of the courtroom, greeting Palin and his current defense lawyer, David Jones—a middle-aged man in an ill-fitting gray suit. When they spoke on the phone, Jones had seemed eager to be rid of Palin, though he lamented the loss of the retainer.

Judge Andrew Clayton ran a tight courtroom, moving through pretrial motions at pace and delivering his decisions with little emotion. A fit man in his fifties, he was well-groomed, with a neat and trimmed brown beard and short-cropped hair. He had been a judge for just over a year and had earned a reputation for being smart, intelligent, and quick-witted.

As soon as one decision was made, Judge Clayton waved the lawyers away, and the bailiff moved on to the next case, calling out the case number.

“Criminal Case 25-CR-6575.”

The bailiff called out, rising above the murmur of lawyers conferring, organizing, and wading through paperwork in the gallery.

Garrett walked to the front of the courtroom, striding through the gate with confidence. Once at the prosecutor’s table, he opened his laptop and typed several lines. Hennessy led Palin and Jones to the defense table.

Judge Clayton welcomed them to the court and shook his head as he read the file. He confirmed Palin’s name and then asked the lawyers to identify themselves. They did so, and Judge Clayton looked at Jones.

“I see we have a motion for a Substitution of Counsel. Please explain, Mr. Jones.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,”

Jones stood. He placed his legal pad on the table and fumbled through the pages, looking for the correct page. When he found it, he stared at the sheet of paper with only five lines of handwritten notes. “Uh, yes. Here. The defendant wishes to change counsel for personal reasons, and I have no objection to passing the case to Mr. Hennessy, the new lawyer seated here.”

“Mr. Palin,”

Judge Clayton looked at the defendant. “Do you understand that you’re applying to change lawyers, and thus, Mr. Jones will no longer be involved in your case?”

Palin stood. “I do, Your Honor.”

“Good.”

Judge Clayton looked at Garrett, expecting the motion to be routine. “Any objection from the State to the Substitution of Counsel order?”

“The State requests that the substitution is denied.”

Garrett’s response was fast. Judge Clayton raised his eyebrows. Garrett didn’t miss a beat, continuing with his objection. “Mr. Palin is charged with a devious and cunning crime, and the overwhelming evidence is against him. The State believes this motion is nothing more than a delay tactic by the defense team. As we raised in the bail hearing, we believe the defendant is a flight risk and we don’t want to allow him the extra time to organize the chance to flee the country.”

“Your Honor.”

Hennessy stood. He stared at Garrett for a long moment and then turned to the judge. “This motion has not been accompanied by a request to delay the trial, and there’s no need for any delaying tactics. This case is in its early phases, and the files I have received are complete.”

“The State also wishes to raise issues with the new attorney’s suitability for the case.”

Garrett remained standing but didn’t look in Hennessy’s direction. “While we acknowledge Mr. Hennessy has expertise in handling criminal cases, he has no experience in handling felony fraud or felony breach of trust cases, and we believe it isn’t in the court’s interest to allow an inexperienced lawyer to substitute for an experienced one. In fact, we believe the integrity of any future trial could be called into question by the approval of this motion.”

“Your Honor, this is outrageous,”

Hennessy argued. “I’m prepared for this trial and have handled a fraud misdemeanor charge in the last year. I’ve served this court as a criminal defense attorney for almost five years and have ten years of experience in the Circuit Solicitor’s Office. I assure the court that I’m prepared for this case, these charges, and any future trial.”

“Anything further?”

Judge Clayton looked at Garrett.

“Nothing further, Your Honor, however, we repeat that we believe the integrity of this court is paramount, and approving someone with no experience in felony fraud charges may call into question the integrity of this trial.”

Judge Clayton looked at Hennessy, but Hennessy’s stare remained on Garrett.

“Mr. Hennessy?”

Judge Clayton pressed.

“Nothing further from the defense, Your Honor.”

“Then I believe that Mr. Hennessy is experienced enough in criminal cases to handle this trial, and I see no reason why Mr. Hennessy would apply for a delay of trial this early in the process. The Substitution of Counsel motion is granted.”

Garrett offered no response as Judge Clayton turned to the bailiff, who called the next case number.

Hennessy packed up his notes and talked to Palin and Jones for a moment. Both expressed their surprise at Garrett’s arguments. Hennessy agreed. Once his briefcase was closed, Hennessy strode out of the courtroom’s doors. In the hallway, Hennessy spotted Garrett. He called out to him. “That was a cheap shot.”

Garrett smiled and walked toward Hennessy. “You can’t blame a man for trying. I’d much rather face Jones than you.”

He lowered his tone and leaned in close. “And let it serve as a warning—I need to win this case, and I’m going to do everything to make sure that happens.”