Ephraim stood in the imposing shadow of the District Courthouse and wondered how much of the grayness he currently felt could be attributed to the artificial shade and how much derived from a far darker source?
He’d always been the legal wunderkind…the master of pulling rabbits out of the hat…the King of Angles but he had to admit this time he was in a helluva quandary. There was not even the slightest scintilla of doubt in his mind that his client was as guilty as any man could be.
He also knew beyond a reasonable certainty that if he used the information contained in his trademark Corinthian leather briefcase, an innocent man would be on his way to death row instead of the true culprit…his client.
His dilemma lay not at all in whether he would use the faked evidence but rather in how much he should ask this potential fall guy for to not use it.
This story was written for the weekly Five Sentence Fiction prompt: angles.