The World According to Vince - Jane Harvey-Berrick Page 0,84

as that. The jury hasn’t truly seen how passionate he is about saving animals, they’ve only heard it second-hand; and I might add it wasn’t Mr. Azzo who named himself ‘the Canine Crusader’ but his supporters. District Attorney Barclay is correct when he says that his case has much wider repercussions than the events of January 4th—much wider. It was never about trying to steal dogs but to rescue them. This is what Mr. Azzo does; this is who he is.”

The judge stared down at Gracie for so long, I started sweating in the Lycra suit, my groin becoming very damp, and not in a fun way.

“Very well, Ms. Cooper,” the judge said at last. “I’ll allow the defendant to wear his costume, but I warn you, do not try my patience further.”

“No, your Honor,” said Gracie, crossing her fingers as she turned to walk back to her seat, a small smile of triumph on her face as Barclay turned the color of a pickled beet.

He probably whiffed like one, as well, vinegar-faced arsehole.

Gracie took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back, her eyes glowing at me with belief.

“The defense calls Vincent Alexander Azzo.”

She looked so hot in her dark gray pant suit and cerise blouse with a pussycat-bow that I was still staring at her when she cleared her throat and gave me a pointed look.

“Oh, right! That’s me. Sorry, Gracie.”

People in the audience chuckled, but the judge threw them a very frosty look. Blimey, had she found her knickers in the fridge this morning?

I strode to the witness stand, giving a quick twirl of my cape on the way, took the oath, then lowered my hood so I could hear better.

“The defendant would like to plead ‘not guilty’ on the grounds of inhumanity,” Gracie said loudly.

“The defendant has already pleaded, and surely, you mean ‘insanity’, Ms. Cooper?” Judge Herschel asked.

“Definitely debatable, but not today, your Honor,” Gracie smiled. “He is not guilty on the grounds of inhumanity because the way animals are treated is not humane.”

“Objection!” yelped Barclay. “That’s not a real plea! She’s grandstanding!”

“Sustained,” said the judge, looking grim. “Ask your first question, Ms. Cooper.”

“Of course, your Honor.” Grace turned to me. “Mr. Azzo, in your own words, please tell the ladies and gentlemen of the jury what happened the night of January 4th.”

“Well, I’d been polishing me knob, your Honor,” I began confidently.

“Excuse me?” Judge Herschel interrupted.

I was going to say it again, but Gracie jumped in first.

“Ah, um, he’d been doing some housework, hadn’t you, Mr Azzo?,” she said pointedly. “Before going out for dinner

Right. Don’t mention my Tinder date!

“Leading the witness,” Barclay spoke sullenly.

“Overruled. Please continue, Mr. Azzo.”

“Right! So, after I’d, um, done me housework, I went out to meet a friend and then go for dinner. I left Roxy’s hotel at 9pm and asked Alf, the doorman, if he knew of any good vegan restaurants nearby. He tipped me the wink and I gave him a score so…”

“Mr. Azzo is British, as the court will know by now,” Gracie said with an artificial laugh. “I believe Mr. Azzo is saying that he was given the information required and tipped the doorman twenty dollars.”

“Objection!” Barclay whined. “He’s not even speaking English!”

“He’s speaking what they speak in England,” Gracie said coolly, “which I believe is English. I’m merely interpreting a few colloquialisms for the benefit of the court, but I can desist.”

“Please continue,” Judge Herschel sighed.

“Right! So I was on my way to this Thai vegan place when I heard dogs crying. Not just barking or howling, but really crying like their little hearts were breaking. It was the most terrible sound,” I said, choking on the words as I remembered that night. “I thought one of them must be hurt, but when I got closer, I realized the crying wasn’t coming from a street dog but from an animal shelter.”

“Objection!” Barclay snapped. “Dogs can’t cry.”

“Were you bitten on your bony arse as a kid?” I snapped back. “Dogs cry. It’s a sound that if you ever hear it, you’ll never forget.”

“Overruled,” Judge Herschel said again.

“I rang the doorbell and knocked loud enough to wake the dead,” I continued, “but nobody came. Blimey! What kind of animal shelter doesn’t have a night nurse in case one of the beasties gets sick? So, I, um, climbed over the wall—which was easy, crappy security—then kept pounding on the office door and it, um, gave way. I nearly fell face first. Flimsy locks. Very unsafe.” I cleared