The Ripped T-shirt III - Whiskey & Justice on the rocks

The ox-blood leather chair in the south facing offices of Esquire and Jones Solicitors was baked in August afternoon sun.  The two solicitors supposedly acting for separate parties were drinking ice-lemon tea and blowing off guff about recent victories.

Verity Jones’ folder was identical to the others that contained the crimes and fates of career criminals, and other nasty thugs.

‘Small whiskey Clive?’ asked Willy who was senior only in years.

The younger man checked his watch, shook his head and said that he’d prefer a protein shake. Willy wanted desperately to drop into a reverie about the old days, but he held back and offered up the next file to Clive.

‘This woman stabbed her husband with scissors in the kitchen. The only question is what her sentence will be.’ Said Clive.

‘Now hang on a minute Clive, her husband was seen in a local pub getting inebriated, and witnesses have come forward and said that [he] also hit the woman…’

‘Was it reported to the police?’

‘No.’

‘Then he never hit her!’

‘You bastard, you're a bloody good solicitor!’ Said Willy as he prepared for another whiskey.

‘Okay, lets rap this up for today, all of these folders will be here on Monday!’

‘Let’s hope all the people inside the folders are still with us on Monday.’ Joked Clive.