Right To An Attorney

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Iliana, Oct 7, 2012.

  1. Right To An Attorney


    "I don't want to play games with you, Erving."

    "Was never good at 'em anyway." It wasn't the response Detective Joseph Byrns was looking for. He hated dealing with idiot bad-boy wanna-be's. That was the first description he gave himself when he had the displeasure of meeting Flynn Erving: a bad boy wanna-be drowning in Old Spice aftershave. If he had to give his description to a sketch artist, Byrns would have had him down pat. A lot of people would have. Flynn wasn't the most 'average' of all the Joes. He had has his hair cut in styled like some man off of a bad Grease filming. Filling in his skin with tattoos over every variety, shape, and size, one could easily see why he only wore tight Abercrombie shirts, polos, or tank tops. To show off the bod or ink? They didn't know and would never find out. As bad ass he looked at first glance, the personality didn't cut it. That was the bullshit Byrns was trying to get past, and boy, was he going to have to do a lot of shoveling.

    "I'm not your enemy here, Erving,"he said, figuring using his name again would help the suspect who was leaning back in a chair in front of him, chewing away at a straw. He was being interrogated for the murder of a 38, successful woman. And he was chewing on a straw. Byrns fumbled in his pants for his bottle of Tums, popping two in his mouth before grabbing a cup of water beside him, pushing the straw away with his two fingers. He noticed how Erving didn't manage to watch any of his movements at all. He kept his eyes to the desk, pushing his feet against it o push himself in the chair like a 8 year old boy. He wouldn't have made a good detective. His eye had to be out for any and everything. The smallest of smirks, a look in the wrong direction, an inhale too many. Those were the things Byrn was looking for in Flynn: the hints of a murderer. It was his job, duty, and pay check.

    It sucked that he couldn't see a thing with Flynn.

    "Trying to avoid the bowl?" Flynn suddenly asked, nearly startling Byrns right out of his toupee. He looked the suspect over, Tums washing through his throat and painting a gassy look under his nose.

    "What bowl?"

    "The bowl, man. The golden retriever." Byrns tried to keep the agitation out of his voice, and he did, but he didn't do much to his actions. He swung his big body forward, his muscled chest grazing the desk and scooting it back while his mess of blonde hair fell on one side of his eyes, hitting Flynn with his 'cob business' glare.

    "Don't play word games with me, buster. What the hell is the bowl?" Flynn was too amused to answer right away, smirking in his own silent victory while he munched away on his straw. The older cops were so easy to get. Where there was once confidence, there was now paranoia. Annoyance. Lack of patience. Jospeh Byrns was practically vomiting the shit everywhere and Flynn was amusing himself at the sound of his retching. Stupid cops.

    "What other bowl would someone associate Tums with, TwiddleDee? The Golden Retriever, man. The pot of all pots." Flynn leaned back and kicked the desk lightly with his chest, surprisingly pushing it back to it's original position while applying pressure to Byrn's muscled gut. Byrns's face was colored a beautiful, gloriously satisfying red. Flynn took a mental snapshot and flicked the straw with his tongue; his own game he made up for the Interrogation Room only. Quite the distraction.

    "Wheres TwiddleDum? She's late,"he said, twisting the straw between his straw and forefinger at the mental image of his second Attorney: Jada Becken. It was quite the image. Too bad that body didn't come with a muzzle.
  2. "Oh.. God." Jada was sitting at her small office desk as usual, a hand pressed to her mouth as she held back a sob from the mention of Ylonda Tent's case on TV, the rape victim who was now lying in a little wooden box under a good six feet of dirt and gravel―not to mention a few plants and worms and other things that get throw on top of someone's coffin when she dies. Jada was a serious worker; she made sure not to get emotionally involved with her clients to prevent unfair treatment. Being an attorney was her job, and although she loved her work, she had to know when to separate work and her own feelings. But this case was just too hard not to get emotionally involved in. Ylonda was her /best friend/. Always there for each other, especially in times of need. They knew each other's hardships and dealt with them together, but now Miss Tent was gone. And the worst part was? She had the unfortunate chances of defending the man she /knew/ committed the crime. Well.. she didn't see it /happen/ or anything, she just had this feeling that everything pointed directly towards him, considering it did and there was enough evidence on the table to send the guy to jail for a life sentence; maybe even sentenced to death, but that wouldn't have flown with Jada. She would have wanted him to rot in jail for putting Ylonda through so much suffering, taking the death sentence would be taking a short-cut to getting out of punishment.

    On the other hand, Ylonda never really had the best taste in men. Jada should have suspected it sooner.

    A while after she let her thoughts wander, a co-worker tapped her still quivering shoulder, whispering something urgent into her ear. Something about interrogation having started ten minutes ago. "Nice trying to pull my leg, Donny boy, but I've only been sitting here for a couple of minutes." The younger man smoothed back some of his brown, heavily jelled hair as a response. He was obviously in edge, no one with that much gunk in his hair would have any stray hairs sticking out. The woman attorney reluctantly took a glance down at her wrist-watch to check the time, only to find that he wasn't lying. And what was more, she hasn't yet gathered her papers. She looked around hurriedly, opening her desk drawers and checking under the mounds of papers that had gathered on top of her desk. The sight was painful to watch―for someone who wanted to keep his job that is―she was a mess. Maybe not when she went out in public, but when no one was there to judge. It was fine to show this side to Donny, though, because she knew he wouldn't give a damn, as long as the paychecks kept coming in. But he was a human being after all, and watching Attorney Jada Becken turn into close-friend-of-the-victim Jada Becken pulled at the heartstrings, even if he normally couldn't have cared less about her.

    "Jesus Christ, Becken; You've gotta pull yourself together." The man mumbled under his breath─exasperated─as he threw a folder of papers on the desk. "I got these from Parker's desk. I though you might have needed them." She pulled back on reflex, expecting to get hit by the thing flat on the head, but let out a breath as the papers lay lifelessly on her desk. What luck that Attorney Miles had actually gotten something done before getting a stroke and leaving her in charge of everything. Unfortunately, she knew nothing about Erving's story or if anything had actually been decided. Why had he taken the case anyways? Erving was a lost case, in her opinion. She grabbed the folder instantly, getting up and quickly heading down to interrogation room─but not before giving ol' Don a pat on the back for his good work. Hopefully, this wouldn't have to turn into some cliched sap story like all those guys on tv; she wouldn't be so open-minded. She was too focused on steeling herself from Joe's wrath for anything like that. Stopping at the window to watch how Detective Byrns's questioning was going before. What she saw was surprisingly something like what she had expected; a complacent suspect in question and a stressing Byrns, chewing on those tums of his like there was no stopping the movement in his stomach.

    She cleared her throat and headed down a narrow hallway to her left, stopping at the lone door in the middle of the wall when she looked to her right. As she stopped infront of the door, she overheard something about a bowl and a golden.. retriever..? And as her hand turned the knob, the suspect continued on; this time mentioning a late 'TweedleDum'. She kept her face from contorting into something crazed, and entered calmly, her papers neatly resting at her side. She closed the door behind her and took a seat next to the─somewhat poorly─modernized Travolta and lay the papers down on the table. "I do hope you weren't referring to me just now, Mister Erving. I'll have you know that your jail sentence lies in my hands," she said, looking at him from over her glasses' rim. "The right to an attorney isn't the same thing as hopping the fence behind the grocery store," She looked over to Byrns, who was obviously feeling restless. She'd said it many times before, but she had to say it again. He must have been the bad cop back in the day. The one that stood in the back and got frustrated when the suspect wouldn't speak. Normally, he'd have stormed out of the room by now, but seeing as he was the only detective this time around, she could clearly see why he was having trouble. "I think it's about time to take a break, wouldn't you say, Joe? I need to go over Mr. Erving's alibi one more time." It seemed to take him a bit to back down, but eventually gripped his neck and got out of his chair with a grunt.

    "I guess," he said as he walked to the door, but not before giving the other man another look over.
  3. "Her name is Jada Becken."

    "I care?"

    "She's the Attorney defending you."

    "I care?"

    "Is this a confession, Mr. Erving?"


    "And what are you confessing to?"

    "Being bored as shit. The charges?" Jada Becken could not have come in at a better time. The state of Byrns's sanity rested on those few seconds, heaving out a gruffly held exhale when the woman stepped in, quickly snapping at Erving. Erving, who didn't even bat an eye. Byrns stood up, trying to look as if he were not about to lunge over at the suspect by giving Jada a nod.

    "He's a tough one."

    "I'm flattered,"Flynn answered, twisting the straw this his teeth nonchalantly. The two looked at him at some point and Flynn shrugged his shoulders, the muscles showing clearly through his tank top. "You were the ones who decided to talk in front of me. That's what an interrogation is, in'nit? A discussion?" Byrns didn't have time to bark about how hot headed he was. Jada beat him to that. When she relieved him, he was both ecstatic and stoic. The man did need a break. It was probably clear to her that he was loosing energy and patience over Flynn Erving, but at the same time, he definitely didn't wish his presence on her as much as he wanted if off of him. Jada was sacrificing her sanity in that statement. Byrns slid his gaze over to Flynn who had his eyes waiting on him, flashing a smile.

    Sick bastard.

    "I guess,"he forced out, never letting his gaze leaving Evring's. Flynn obliged by playing the game, keeping his brown eyes set on Byrn's blue ones; toying with him. He knew that the detective was looking for some fault in his expressions, and it pleased him so much to know that the big blonde oaf would never know. When Byrns was out of view and out the door, Flynn flicked his eyes back to the empty cup on the table, pushing his feet against it a bit more.

    "Who's this alibi and when can I meet him, Twee--...Becken."
  4. Jada had to hold her body back from flinging an arm in his direction. She knew this was going to be one heck of a long and difficult road, and frankly even if she didn't want to be there at the moment, she didn't want to screw this case up; for the sake of Miles' hard earned information. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and fixed herself in her seat so that she was facing him. She couldn't tell if he was joking around or just being plain difficult. No one was going to be able to help him in court besides her, and the jury certainly would have just glanced at him and labeled him guilty.

    "Very funny, Mr. Erving." She said monotonously. "Didn't you talk to Attorney Miles about an alibi? What were you doing on March 6th, 2011 when the murder allegedly took place?" She couldn't bring herself to the thought that Miles had actually gone into this without juicing an alibi out of him first. She wondered what it was that made the attorney so sure that Flynn was innocent. Was there some kind of miracle evidence that he was able to extract from the scene? She tried to wrap her head around all the ideas that were spiraling in her mind, but for someone who thought Erving was guilty beyond vindication, it was pretty hard to find any loopholes.

    She heard on the side that they had to keep him at Attorney Parker's house because of the nature of the case even before the thing was hers. Although, his hospitalization called for a few changes to made to accommodate, and because the judge agreed that Flynn would stay with his attorney, and now that Jada was his attorney, well.. This was definitely going to be an interesting experience, considering she was living with her friend Charlotte and her 5-year-old son Sam at the moment. Charlotte was a fresh divorcee, and her ex had just kicked her out of the house, even though it was under her name. Jada suggested that she sue him for it, but the woman refused for reason that perplexed the independant attorney. The two were having problems paying rent and Jada couldn't find it in her to just let them rent a hotel or live with relatives, especially after witnessing the violent relationship Charlotte's parents had at a Christmas party a few years back. That was not the suitable environment to let a child live in; that was not the right environment for anyone to live in, let alone grow up in! She offered them a place to stay until they pulled together enough money to rent a small apartment or town house; as well as babysitting on weekends and help job-searching. It was fulfilling, considering that she loved children and the feeling of being a savior to any body was always a plus. The reason she had become an attorney was just that; the feeling of having saved the innocent.

    Jada wanted to keep the two safe, and let's just say that harboring a could-be rapist/murderer definitely wasn't something she'd planned for.

    "Well then.. let's hear it." she said, the question coming out more firm than she had intended. The least she could do was at least try to pull a decent argument together. For Miles's sake.
  5. "Friend. Alibi. You people rarely know the difference,"he said simply, a small shrug of his shoulders being all he needed to emphasize his statement. It was a new practiced art for him to not look the woman directly anywhere but directly in her eyes, which it, to Flynn Erving, was torture. When it came to women and his eyes, let's just say the face was not a usual settlement for the two orbs. Then again, he couldn't see possibly anything remotely attractive with the woman in front of him, so the strain wasn't hard. He kept his gaze glued to hers, the only time he looked away being when he just got tired of staring at the brown. He took the long period of silence as a threat and decided not to say anything to her, leaving the two of them to their thoughts.

    He actually preferred the other lawyer, Parker, because that guy was an eye sore. He was old, decrepit, barely hanging on to the edges of life it seemed. The only reason the force kept him as a lawyer because when he did his job, however slow it may have been, and he did it good. His debating was unmatched and if one could get passed the smell, he was a great man to have prowling across the isles of a courtroom, especially if it was in their own defense. Flynn found Parker to be nothing more than an old man who read the law books 3 times in his life. Knowledge over the fundamentals and rules weren't going to get him anywhere. He needed someone who was going to be an annoying prick and sift through every single chasm they could find, however small, just to piss people off for information.

    His gaze returned to Jada Becken and cracked a loose smile. Perfect.

    "Maxen Car, that's his name. Good guy, just a bit on the asshole side when it comes to his truck. Ugly, tan Land Rover. I wouldn't piss on that thing, but I'm not gonna tell him that, you know? He'd probably piss on me for that. Crazy guy. Good guy, but crazy guy." He said all of this with his eyes on the cup ahead of him. He wouldn't grace her with his expressions while he was relaying Max. In fact, he didn't want to give that woman the time of day let alone his expressions. The cup was empty and Flynn continued to stare at it as if it were going to refill on his own.

    "I was at home drunk. Next question,"he said smoothly, never stopping his tongue from flicking the straw. It was going to be a long while before he got some actual food in his system, and, with Jada Becken being as prissy and perfect as she believed she was, Flynn had the sinking notion that he would be in that room for longer than he intended. So, he decided to pass his time by chewing on a straw and discussing a murder he didn't commit. Seemed fair enough for a Monday morning.