sat at my side. My father assured me that he was one of
the best criminal lawyers in New York. I didn’t really understand why I needed
one.
When we arrived,
Detective Angelini announced that he needed to meet with the District Attorney
before we started. I felt exhausted while we waited in the interview room on
the fourth floor of the 22 nd Precinct. I tried to piece together in
my mind what had happened. I remembered bumping into the man on the corner and
I must have picked up something very bad to follow him straight away.
Without a doubt,
it had something to do with the kid they found tied up in a small bedroom in
the house. I lost the vision when I blacked out but I was certain the boy had
been in danger. The cops told me there was no sign of abuse. Still, this was
far more serious than starting a fire in the internet cafe. I killed someone
and it would prove difficult to explain how I came to be at the house. I
couldn’t just tell a detective that I was clairvoyant. I hadn’t mentioned it to
my lawyer, but even I knew it wouldn’t hold water as a defense against
vehicular manslaughter.
I sat there trying
to come up with a convincing story when the door opened and Detective Angelini
walked in with a notepad, a file folder, a cup of foul smelling coffee and
something far worse brewing on his face.
“Counselor, it’s
been a long time,” he remarked. “Isn’t this slumming for you?”
“His father is an
old friend,” my lawyer explained then cut right to the chase, “Why is my client
even here?”
“Because he stole
a taxi and used it to commit voluntary manslaughter. Motor vehicle theft is a
felony the last time I looked and unless he starts talking, the manslaughter
charge just might become murder.”
“My client had no
intention of killing Mr. Slomkowski. It was an accident,” he insisted. “Aren’t
you forgetting about the young boy he saved, detective?”
“Sure his actions
allowed us to recover the boy before he’d been harmed, but my question is how
did your client know that Samuel was in the house?”
Both of them
looked at me.
“Mr. Slomkowski
told me,” I confessed.
“You expect me to
believe that the perp walked up to you on the street and just spilled to you
that he was holding an eight year old boy captive. Do I look stupid, son?
“Yessir… I mean no
sir; just pissed!”
My lawyer coughed
to cover his amusement.
“Let me tell you
what I think happened,” the detective offered. “Your client knew the victim.
Maybe he had been his favorite when he was younger but when he reached puberty
he was already too old for Mr. Slomkowski’s prepubescent tastes.”
He scrutinized me
for a reaction.
“Didn’t like that
did you Ryan?” He goaded. “Made you angry, mad enough to want to kill him?”
“Not true,” I
protested, “I never met the guy until today.”
“Counselor, we
believe the pedophile wasn’t acting alone, that he had an accomplice who could
win the trust of the young boys he liked. We think your client was helping him.
That’s the only explanation for how he knew where Samuel was hidden.”
“That is
preposterous,” my lawyer blustered.
The detective
ignored him. “Problem is your client got in over his head and started to feel
guilty. What about the time he set fire to a video store? Maybe he’d been
lining up kids to star in those twink porno flicks? How come your client always
seems to know everyone’s dirty little secrets?”
“Those records are
sealed,” my lawyer reminded him. “They are not admissible in court.”
“The District
Attorney is filing to have them opened for the Grand Jury. He will charge your
client with serious crimes and he is going to do time. I would suggest you
consider a plea bargain.”
I swallowed hard.
Even I knew things weren’t going well.
“We’re done here
Counselor. The arraignment is at 8.00 AM tomorrow. He’ll have to spend the
night in lock-up.”
“He’s only a
teenager; you can’t leave him
the best criminal lawyers in New York. I didn’t really understand why I needed
one.
When we arrived,
Detective Angelini announced that he needed to meet with the District Attorney
before we started. I felt exhausted while we waited in the interview room on
the fourth floor of the 22 nd Precinct. I tried to piece together in
my mind what had happened. I remembered bumping into the man on the corner and
I must have picked up something very bad to follow him straight away.
Without a doubt,
it had something to do with the kid they found tied up in a small bedroom in
the house. I lost the vision when I blacked out but I was certain the boy had
been in danger. The cops told me there was no sign of abuse. Still, this was
far more serious than starting a fire in the internet cafe. I killed someone
and it would prove difficult to explain how I came to be at the house. I
couldn’t just tell a detective that I was clairvoyant. I hadn’t mentioned it to
my lawyer, but even I knew it wouldn’t hold water as a defense against
vehicular manslaughter.
I sat there trying
to come up with a convincing story when the door opened and Detective Angelini
walked in with a notepad, a file folder, a cup of foul smelling coffee and
something far worse brewing on his face.
“Counselor, it’s
been a long time,” he remarked. “Isn’t this slumming for you?”
“His father is an
old friend,” my lawyer explained then cut right to the chase, “Why is my client
even here?”
“Because he stole
a taxi and used it to commit voluntary manslaughter. Motor vehicle theft is a
felony the last time I looked and unless he starts talking, the manslaughter
charge just might become murder.”
“My client had no
intention of killing Mr. Slomkowski. It was an accident,” he insisted. “Aren’t
you forgetting about the young boy he saved, detective?”
“Sure his actions
allowed us to recover the boy before he’d been harmed, but my question is how
did your client know that Samuel was in the house?”
Both of them
looked at me.
“Mr. Slomkowski
told me,” I confessed.
“You expect me to
believe that the perp walked up to you on the street and just spilled to you
that he was holding an eight year old boy captive. Do I look stupid, son?
“Yessir… I mean no
sir; just pissed!”
My lawyer coughed
to cover his amusement.
“Let me tell you
what I think happened,” the detective offered. “Your client knew the victim.
Maybe he had been his favorite when he was younger but when he reached puberty
he was already too old for Mr. Slomkowski’s prepubescent tastes.”
He scrutinized me
for a reaction.
“Didn’t like that
did you Ryan?” He goaded. “Made you angry, mad enough to want to kill him?”
“Not true,” I
protested, “I never met the guy until today.”
“Counselor, we
believe the pedophile wasn’t acting alone, that he had an accomplice who could
win the trust of the young boys he liked. We think your client was helping him.
That’s the only explanation for how he knew where Samuel was hidden.”
“That is
preposterous,” my lawyer blustered.
The detective
ignored him. “Problem is your client got in over his head and started to feel
guilty. What about the time he set fire to a video store? Maybe he’d been
lining up kids to star in those twink porno flicks? How come your client always
seems to know everyone’s dirty little secrets?”
“Those records are
sealed,” my lawyer reminded him. “They are not admissible in court.”
“The District
Attorney is filing to have them opened for the Grand Jury. He will charge your
client with serious crimes and he is going to do time. I would suggest you
consider a plea bargain.”
I swallowed hard.
Even I knew things weren’t going well.
“We’re done here
Counselor. The arraignment is at 8.00 AM tomorrow. He’ll have to spend the
night in lock-up.”
“He’s only a
teenager; you can’t leave him
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