COURTROOM CHRONICLES: CHAPTER ONE: RAT BASTARDS AND THEIR FINKS Take 1

AARON HASSELBACK

Someday, I will figure out just how I drew this case. God’s got some serious explaining to do! Originally when Martin called me in to take over for him in this woman’s cases, I was quite thrilled. I mean, it’s not every day you get to argue one extremely high-profile case, let alone a slew of them involving the same defendant. However, the saying Be CAREFUL what you wish for couldn’t possibly be any more true than at this moment.

“If you’re finished daydreaming, I’d like to tell you how I want this all to play out,” my client snaps at me. I’m hard-pressed not to quit just simply because of the entitled tone of her voice. The only thing that keeps me from doing that very thing is my firm belief in the 14th amendment. 

“I wasn’t daydreaming, Ms. Peterson, merely looking at the overwhelming mountain of evidence against you in regards to your attempt to defraud the government.”

“I wasn’t trying to defraud the government per se…”

“Marrying someone so that they can obtain a green card is considered defrauding the government, but do go on,” I tell her, cutting off her spiel.

She rolls her eyes at me and huffs before continuing. “As I was saying, I wasn’t trying to defraud the government; merely attempting to help out a friend, who just so happens to be a very gifted professor.”

“And the fact that he was wanted in France in connection to a few violent crimes didn’t ring any alarm bells? Not to mention his own foray into the criminal justice system here in the good ol’ U.S. of A?”

“I had no knowledge of any of those things when I met Gui for the first time. He seemed quite respectable.”

“Considering your current location, I can see how it may have been confusing for you.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, nor your implication.”

“And I don’t appreciate being lied to!” I sigh. “Look, the bottom line is that you need to plead guilty. The last thing you want is for this to go to trial. Nothing you say will make you look good, or any less culpable in these shenanigans. The fact that there are numerous emails, before and after the wedding was stopped, that speak volumes about what you supposedly didn’t know.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“I’m talking about the fact that when the first email happened- you know, when you actually agreed to meet him in the faculty lounge at Carnegie Mellon University during a break in both your schedules to discuss ideas to obtain his citizenship- were you, or were you not, separated from Ms. Marcus at the time?”

“I was, but…”

“And do you think for one moment that Ms. Marcus will be gracious and NOT testify to that very thing?”

“I don’t see how that has any bearing on the case.”

“No, you wouldn’t, would you?” I ask rhetorically. “The fact is that she’s not going to risk her license to practice law by committing perjury in order to save you from a lengthy jail sentence and a hefty fine, which incidentally would have to be paid before you can even be released from prison. She’s going to be completely honest in all she says and does in regards to this situation when the prosecution calls on her.”

At last, she’s beginning to see the reality of the situation and feel its gravity. “Isn’t there some way you can prevent that from happening? Or, you know... make her look like the bitter bitch she’s always been in reference to men?”

I almost want to slap Jesus into her for that idiotic last thought. But even God would rebel at the idea of giving Lindsay a ‘Come to Jesus’ moment! Although I haven’t met or faced the woman personally, I could tell this entitled peanut-head that although Melanie Marcus might dislike the bureaucratic red tape and chauvinistic ideals of many men within our profession, she’s also one of the most blatantly honest, true defenders of the law and of a person’s legal rights. There is no way that anyone- and I mean ANYONE knowing of Melanie Marcus in this realm would believe such nonsense, and especially being spouted on behalf of the most manipulative, selfish woman ever created! I take a calming breath before giving this glaring soul-guzzler the only generic answer I can think of at the moment. 

Fucking Lilith! 

“No. The most I can do is to treat her as a hostile witness since your separation has now become a permanent situation. But even doing that will still not take away from the fact that all the evidence will corroborate her story, especially with a tape of the outgoing message obtained from the answering machine.”

“What message?”

“You’re doing it again, Ms. Peterson.”

“Doing what?”

“Trying to feign ignorance and escape culpability, when it was also your voice heard on the outgoing message alongside Mr. Franck Lavingne’s, also known by the alias Guilliame Dupre.”

“That doesn’t suggest anything other than we were sharing a residence.”

“That’s not the way the jury is going to hear it, especially since he deliberately put Gus’ name on the outgoing message. Most people don’t include their young children’s name on that particular message due to the fact that they are underage and cannot agree to anything without a parent or legal guardian’s permission. And it’s that kind of logic with which this case is going to be judged in reference to what the intent was.”

“But…”

“There isn’t a but needed anywhere in this situation, Ms. Peterson. I’m advising you to plead guilty because there is absolutely no possible way you can explain away your actions. You were a willing accomplice to Mr. Lavigne’s goals, and were willing to involve your child- your MINOR child- in a felony offense. I can’t make the case against you any more clear than that; it’s black and white, cut and dry. But at least if you’re willing to admit your wrongdoing in this situation, I can ask for a bit of leniency on your behalf at best. Perhaps they will even be willing to consider the time you’ve been here as some of the time served, and downgrade this particular charge along with the fine and court fees you’re going to be required to pay upon release. However, if you insist on taking this before a judge and jury, you might as well paint a bullseye on your back because you’re asking for the maximum sentence to be dropped on your head without a second thought. What you want; whatever deal you would bargain for will no longer be a factor. They won’t care what you have to say, at all.”

“And you do?”

“I’ll be honest and say no, that I really don’t. However, I do believe in fairness and that everyone should have the right to either defend themselves or get the best deal they can if restitution is mandated. But in order to do the latter, a person would have to admit that they were wrong in the first place, which seems to be your biggest problem.”

“I don’t…”

“Yeah, you do. And it’s evident by the fact that you’re sitting here still trying to defend your indefensible actions. The bottom line is that you were willing to help Mr. Lavigne stay in the country for several reasons, but the most evident one was to provide a barricade between Gus and his other two parents until they bowed to your wishes. And all of your plans to do exactly that are laid bare within those emails. So once again, as your attorney, I’ve given you the best legal advice I possibly could. Yet the final decision rests with you, so you would do well to choose wisely.”

I can tell that she’s at least giving some thought to what I’ve told her thus far. It isn’t hard or surprising to see the calculating gleam within the muddy brown eyes, blinking rapidly as if she is watching several scenarios within her mind and discarding whatever plans and contingency plans that are lurking behind those eyes. She shakes her head several times during this process, and I know based on the look of disgust that whatever conscious thought or memory she’s trying to shake loose is beginning to take root. It’s more than apparent to me that this is probably a conversation she’s had at some point… or maybe it was a warning she received before things had gotten this far that she had not taken heed to.

And it’s then, behind the still-very-prevalent maliciousness in her eyes, that I also see the regret. It’s very small, but it is there. The only question is why? Is she remorseful because she ultimately put her son’s safety in jeopardy, all for the sake of having the upper hand over Melanie Marcus and Brian Kinney? Or is it the regret because she grossly miscalculated the possibility of getting caught?  

“If I do this, I want some assurances regarding my other cases,” she demands, but I just shake my head at her.

“There won’t be any. In case your selective memory is kicking up again, I will remind you that this is a Federal case, whereas your others are State-driven. So there won’t be any plea deals granted in terms of the Immigration hearing, with the exception of whether you get sentenced immediately or through a trial. Besides, the evidence of what you attempted to do is too overwhelming NOT to pursue it to the fullest extent of the law. But you can ask for leniency, since, beyond the Alienation of Affection lawsuit, you technically haven’t had a court appearance yet, and all of your other misconduct is just alleged at this point, but not proven beyond doubt. It’s the best option you have at the moment.” I sigh, but have a slight moment of inspiration, which will play into her obvious need to be in control. “Think of this as a way to employ the element of surprise. Everyone is expecting you to go to trial… What would they think if you opted not to? They will be forever wondering just what was inside those court documents, as opposed to knowing the extent of your perfidy.”

“I thought that as a defense attorney, you were supposed to believe in the innocence of your client,” she huffs.

“That may have been true, say if I’d gotten this case from the beginning. However, my predecessor left very detailed notes, including why he was given the case in the first place. To say that you have been extremely busy both in and out of the bedrooms or back alleys would be an understatement,” I say snidely. But I’m also disconcerted by the sudden gleam in her eyes at the mention of her whoredom. I would say that she looks proud.

“Well, if you know all that, then you must know how good I can be at being so very bad, Mr. Hasselback. Or should I call you Aaron?” she asks, on a breathy moan.

“Honestly, I would prefer that you don’t call me at all. But to clear up matters for you in regards to your offer, you are barking up a very WRONG tree. Kinda like the tree of Brian Taylor-Kinney that you repeatedly tried to territorially spray, but he discovered the stench of skunk- or should that be SKANK?- wasn’t much to his liking. So, now that that’s settled, let’s get back to the business at hand, namely what you intend to do about your cases. And before you think about supposedly firing me, you should know that I’m your last option here in the State of Pennsylvania. If they have to bring in another attorney, rest assured that even as they are waiting for the person, who will have every one of our sympathies for being saddled with you as a client, you STILL will not be getting out. 

“So my advice, once again, is to plead out where this case is concerned, serve the time they give you, and hope like hell that you’ll still be healthy enough when it’s over to reasonably chew your food without spitting teeth. It’s the best you can hope for, and you will still be responsible for the fine. Also, there are still the matters of your criminal trials to contend with. Since this is federal, it means the sentencing will take priority over whatever time the state gives you for being the guttersnipe you are. I don’t know about you, but I would rather be spending my time in a posh prison, instead of within the general population of the State Women’s Corrections Facility while awaiting sentencing for my other crimes. The women there certainly don’t take kindly to entitled princesses all that well, and won’t hesitate to show you just how common you really are.”    

There! Hopefully, I have scared her enough that her vaunted self-preservation will kick in.

Because what I haven’t told her yet is that Claire Kinney has already been lauding, loud and long, about just who Lindsay Peterson is in all of this. And just like Claire isn’t finding any allies there- unless she’s made friends with the nurses in the infirmary- Lindsay Peterson certainly won’t either. Contrary to popular belief, women are often times worse than men, be it in the locker room or in a place like prison. And what’s worse is they are a thousand times more devious in getting away with the crime against another inmate, unless there is a murder involved. Lindsay would be a fool to disregard the warning I’m giving her. 

After a time of silence, which I’m grateful for- Lindsay Peterson’s honeyed tones sound about as appealing as nails on a blackboard, after all- she looks at me with barely concealed anger. “Fine,” she says through gritted teeth. “But only because I’m much too high class to be in the general population. Hopefully, I’ll never see the inside of that cursed place.”

I smile wide, anxious to impart this little piece of information, even while indulging in my own small victory against the arrogant woman. “Oh, you’ll still see the inside of the general pen, Lindsay; make no mistake about that. But at least, you’ll just be delaying that inevitable fate. Remember that this establishment is ONLY for the incarceration regarding your federal crimes. The state-pending cases are a different matter altogether and are never to be mixed.”

“So what exactly am I agreeing to?”

“That you are indeed guilty of trying to defraud the government by consorting with a known international fugitive.”

“But I didn’t know all of that!”

“Doesn’t matter, since it’s clear from the emails you were still willing to marry him for a green card. It’s all about the implication that he told you the whole truth about who, and what he was. And since you can’t dispute that…”

“Okay. So how much time are they talking?”

“The full five years, plus a little more because of the fact that Gui was actually living with you for a time, when his temporary Visa had already expired. That’s considered aiding and abetting, by the way. So all in all, I would say anywhere from eight-to-ten years, plus there is still the matter of the fines you’ll incur- both for the penalty of the crime, and the court costs, room and board in a correctional facility, and a host of other things.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a deal, Hasselback!”

“It is, considering that if you took this all to trial, you would certainly be facing accessory to attempted murder charges as well. Honestly, you still might, but that’s for the state to decide and punish. I’m sure the D.A. will add it to your list of charges, if he feels there is enough evidence to support that, or if it’s found that you were- let’s say- involved in a similar situation before.” 

I look as her skin turns just that little bit more ashen to cause concern for a lesser human being. And did she just sprout a few more gray hairs? I guess there’s no way to smuggle in a bottle of Ms. Clairol, even within these vaunted halls. Bringing my mind back to the matter at hand, I pull out the sheaf of papers within my briefcase. I had prepared two sets, just in case Lindsay proved to be the arrogant ass she’s shown herself to be over and over again.

Fortunately, she’s about to sign the ones that will cut my time with her as my client down significantly. I slide the papers to her, and wait for any questions she may have. 

“And just what do these say?” she asks, and I notice that she’s not picking them up to peruse them at all. Instead, it’s clear that whatever has her sweating and looking gray by turns has now officially taken up residence to the forefront of her mind. 

“Just that you agree to all of the terms we’ve spoken about in here, and that you will tell the Federal Grand Jury anything they need to know once Mr. Lavingne officially goes to trial. You might actually be able to get some time off for good behavior.”

“But won’t that mean that whatever sentence I get regarding the other trials will result in me being sent into the state’s prison system that much sooner?” Her voice has modulated just that little bit to tell me just how nervous she really is about the women’s prison. 

Good!

Making sure to keep my face neutral, I answer, “Sure, it does. But it also might mean less time behind bars. Well actually, that would depend on how much you screw up, and we already know that you’re wont to do that. But that’s beside the point, and we’re getting sidetracked…” I wordlessly hand over my pen to her. 

As she literally signs her life away, I can barely keep the relieved sigh from leaving my body. People like Lindsay Peterson make the world such a dangerous place. They are murderers! Maybe not always in the physical sense, but definitely mentally and emotionally. It’s too bad that it’s only when they’ve obviously broken the law that these people- these Succubi- are then locked away in confinement, when their birth alone should have been deemed a public hazard.

When she’d finished signing the documents, I nabbed them up before she could change her mind. “I’ll get these filed with the Federal Prosecutor’s office. We should hear if the terms have been accepted within seventy-two hours. I’ll be in touch then.” And, not giving her an opportunity to say anything else to me, I knocked on the door quickly and left. 

I’m not at all ashamed to say that I breathed a sigh of relief. Being in the presence of that saccharine-sounding bitch was suffocating! Now off to see another stupid chick with charges of her own…