An Ordinary Decent Criminal by Michael Van Rooy Page B

anymore.”
    Thompson handed over another file. “This is a notarized statement made four years ago regarding another . . . um, legal matter. In it Mr. Haaviko is advised by his lawyer of record in Edmonton never to make a statement to the police or anyone without either himself or another legal representative being present. He knew his rights.”
    She shrugged. “This’ll never make it to court. Maybe Mr. Haaviko was suddenly overcome by guilt and remorse.”
    “You gonna sell that to a jury? Guilt-wrought? After the first half of the trial details what a cunning, ruthless, professional criminal Mr. Haaviko was?”
    “I never said he was a cunning— Oh. You will.”
    “Right. I’ll also bring up the fact that it took the police eight hours to extract a 308-word confession from my client, which he then didn’t sign. That’s 28,800 seconds in total, which translates to one word every minute and a half. Hell, maybe I’ll read the statement out to the jury, one word every ninety-three seconds. That might convince them.”
    The Crown prosecutor picked up a cheap yellow pencil and tapped it against her teeth to make an unpleasant, tinny noise. “This case can get convoluted, I admit that, but I’ll win anyway.”
    “Ah yes, but it will get worse. First, my client’s not gonna press criminal charges against the police, he’s going after the City of Winnipegin the civil courts for not providing health care while he was in custody. The pictures and medical evidence will prove that he was unharmed before the arrest and injured afterwards.”
    Thompson finally put his briefcase down and stretched out his feet. “Now, that’s gonna be open and shut. The city police will lose credibility if they try to force the issue of the confession there and it’ll tie up the confession in the criminal courts until the whole thing is dealt with.”
    The Crown attorney smiled. “You’re forgetting. We have LERA in this province. The Law Enforcement Review Agency, all charges against members of the police have to go through that agency first.”
    My lawyer just shook his head. “No. We’re suing the city, not the police as an organization and not a single officer. LERA isn’t involved, not now. You think it’s confusing now, just wait.”
    “You can’t be serious.”
    I spoke up for the second time. “Yes. We’re serious. We’re also willing to talk.”
    McMillan-Fowler didn’t seem to want to, but she found herself responding. “You mean a deal? There’s no deal that I can see. We have your fingerprints on the gun, tests that show you fired the gun, a confession you shot the men. We have everything.”
    Thompson adjusted his tie as he spoke. “We have a gun that doesn’t tie anywhere to my client. It was brought by the men breaking in. That contradicts the police. The men who broke in had a history of similar offenses and that contradicts the police. We have a jimmied door showing where the men came in and that contradicts the police. We have evidence of a fight that supports my client’s story and contradicts the police. We have statements by citizens that my client asked for a lawyer immediately upon arrest and that contradicts the police. We have evidence that my client knew his rights and wanted a lawyer and that contradicts the police. We have evidence that police procedure wasn’t followed in extracting the confession and that contradicts the police.”
    He mopped his brow with a red silk handkerchief that looked seriously out of place and continued. “We have two separate scenarios that describe how the confession wasn’t entered into voluntarily. We also have two scenarios that show either criminal behavior or stupidity on the part of the police.”
    I spoke up again. “Pick one.”
    She stared at me and I went on. “I can explain the gun, the paraffin test, and the bodies. The police cannot explain any of these things.”
    Thompson shushed me with two fingers and handed over another file.“Ms.