11-28-2013, 01:22 PM
Continued from A friend in need
Jon strode up the steps of Precinct 16 and entered the building. A quick change of garb at home had been all that was needed to project the image of the powerful attorney who didn't expect to take flak from anyone. Coppertone suit and pearl striped tie, leather briefcase in one hand -- short or not, Jon was the epitome of a well-groomed force to be reckoned with.
The desk sergeant, a pretty little woman with blonde hair kept back with a simple braid and steel blue eyes that spoke of irritation that she was assigned to desk duty that day, looked up as Jon entered. "May I help you?"
Jon flashed her a smile. He could be charming when he wished. "I am here to see my client Jensen James which you are holding here."
The desk sergeant asked for identification, which Jon gladly supplied. The woman tapped a few keys at her computer, and frowned. "It seems the Mr. Jensen James you are here to see hasn't made a formal request for an attorney at this time."
Jon sighed. He should have expected some sort of nonsense from the CCD. Here it seemed that one did not have a fundamental right to speak with an attorney if he did not specifically request it; however, individuals charged with crimes could not be barred from representation, and if they didn't request it themselves, someone could request it on their behalf if they weren't capable of making the request. Additionally, the CCD did recognize spousal rights to some extent, and Jon should be able to push that.
"Mr. James' wife has requested my representation. Therefore I will speak with the accused. That means you must allow me to see my client in private."
The sergeant sighed. No doubt Jon had just made more paperwork for her. Not that it particularly bothered him, it was her duty after all, even if she didn't want to do it.
That didn't mean the sergeant didn't make Jon wait. It was almost two hours before Jon was allowed to see his client. Finally he was called into a sterile, concrete-blocked room with a table and two chairs, and allowed to sit. Jon put his briefcase on the desk and waited for the Custodians to bring out his client.
Fortunately he didn't have to wait long. The man looked a little leaner and perhaps more gaunt than the most recent pictures of him had shown. But certainly, it was the same man who'd been the famous evangelist. The custodians led him to the table. And handcuffed him there.
Jon cocked an eyebrow at the Custodians. "Release his handcuffs and leave us in private."
That earned him a dirty look, but at least they did what he was told.
Jon regarded his client. He didn't trust Custodians farther than he could kick them -- not very far as they weren't shaped like footballs -- so he seized hold of the Great Spirit and wove the same warding he'd used earlier to keep sound from traveling farther than the two of them. He highly doubted there would be anyone around able to break through the warding as Trano had done.
"Mr. James, my name is Jon Little Bird and at your wife's request I am appointed as your attorney, unless you have any objections to my representation on your behalf. I am an American as yourself and as such will do everything I can to get you the best defense I can on your behalf."
Jon took a breath. He didn't know much of the specifics of the case. Only that Jensen James was held on suspicion of murder -- and the report was infuriatingly vague on the specifics. Only that there were witnesses that seemed to be pinning Jensen of some horrid doings Jon found a hard time believing, now that he was face to face with his client. It all smacked of a framing, to him. Guy in the wrong place held accused of a gang slaying. But he had to hear from Jensen what had actually happened.
"Mr. James, at this time you may consider me your mother, your father, your guidance counselor and your priest. The writ of Habeus Corpus as we understand in the United States doesn't hold as much water here, but I still believe I can get you released until such time as charges are dropped or you face a trial. No one can hear what we are discussing aside from you and me. So I need two things from you if you want me to get you released. What did you tell the Custodians, and what really happened?"
Edited by Jon Little Bird, Nov 29 2013, 12:40 AM.
Jon strode up the steps of Precinct 16 and entered the building. A quick change of garb at home had been all that was needed to project the image of the powerful attorney who didn't expect to take flak from anyone. Coppertone suit and pearl striped tie, leather briefcase in one hand -- short or not, Jon was the epitome of a well-groomed force to be reckoned with.
The desk sergeant, a pretty little woman with blonde hair kept back with a simple braid and steel blue eyes that spoke of irritation that she was assigned to desk duty that day, looked up as Jon entered. "May I help you?"
Jon flashed her a smile. He could be charming when he wished. "I am here to see my client Jensen James which you are holding here."
The desk sergeant asked for identification, which Jon gladly supplied. The woman tapped a few keys at her computer, and frowned. "It seems the Mr. Jensen James you are here to see hasn't made a formal request for an attorney at this time."
Jon sighed. He should have expected some sort of nonsense from the CCD. Here it seemed that one did not have a fundamental right to speak with an attorney if he did not specifically request it; however, individuals charged with crimes could not be barred from representation, and if they didn't request it themselves, someone could request it on their behalf if they weren't capable of making the request. Additionally, the CCD did recognize spousal rights to some extent, and Jon should be able to push that.
"Mr. James' wife has requested my representation. Therefore I will speak with the accused. That means you must allow me to see my client in private."
The sergeant sighed. No doubt Jon had just made more paperwork for her. Not that it particularly bothered him, it was her duty after all, even if she didn't want to do it.
That didn't mean the sergeant didn't make Jon wait. It was almost two hours before Jon was allowed to see his client. Finally he was called into a sterile, concrete-blocked room with a table and two chairs, and allowed to sit. Jon put his briefcase on the desk and waited for the Custodians to bring out his client.
Fortunately he didn't have to wait long. The man looked a little leaner and perhaps more gaunt than the most recent pictures of him had shown. But certainly, it was the same man who'd been the famous evangelist. The custodians led him to the table. And handcuffed him there.
Jon cocked an eyebrow at the Custodians. "Release his handcuffs and leave us in private."
That earned him a dirty look, but at least they did what he was told.
Jon regarded his client. He didn't trust Custodians farther than he could kick them -- not very far as they weren't shaped like footballs -- so he seized hold of the Great Spirit and wove the same warding he'd used earlier to keep sound from traveling farther than the two of them. He highly doubted there would be anyone around able to break through the warding as Trano had done.
"Mr. James, my name is Jon Little Bird and at your wife's request I am appointed as your attorney, unless you have any objections to my representation on your behalf. I am an American as yourself and as such will do everything I can to get you the best defense I can on your behalf."
Jon took a breath. He didn't know much of the specifics of the case. Only that Jensen James was held on suspicion of murder -- and the report was infuriatingly vague on the specifics. Only that there were witnesses that seemed to be pinning Jensen of some horrid doings Jon found a hard time believing, now that he was face to face with his client. It all smacked of a framing, to him. Guy in the wrong place held accused of a gang slaying. But he had to hear from Jensen what had actually happened.
"Mr. James, at this time you may consider me your mother, your father, your guidance counselor and your priest. The writ of Habeus Corpus as we understand in the United States doesn't hold as much water here, but I still believe I can get you released until such time as charges are dropped or you face a trial. No one can hear what we are discussing aside from you and me. So I need two things from you if you want me to get you released. What did you tell the Custodians, and what really happened?"
Edited by Jon Little Bird, Nov 29 2013, 12:40 AM.