The strength of meritorious arguments was always dissipated by the weakness of groundless ones. Ravonne Lemmelle was fully aware of that as he prepared for the trial of United States of America vs. Andre Bezel and Kareem Bezel and Unknown Subjects. His biggest trial asset was knowing what to present and what not to present to the jury. He could not make every argument, he thought as he sat in his luxurious office just off 12th and Market Streets. He was in a corporate building that faced the fabulous Lowes Hotel where he often sought refuge to get away for a day-cation. He also had built a relationship with the hotel and he parked his car there daily for free. He asked for it from corporate as he was a shareholder.
Lemmelle was the very sardonic son of the Pennsylvania Governor. He wore his homosexuality in a very masculine manner, and it irritated all of his opponents who were not the sort of flaming fag that was easily disrespected. He was unpredictable and was a man’s man who just happened to be gay. Some of his clients hated that, but he had a one-hundred-percent acquittal rating, and was highly sought and respected.
He sat at his desk in a million dollar suit and looked at the witness list that Barnswell proffered in the discovery. He was the newest, yet most popular attorney and expected to have his cousins exonerated.
That was the least that he could do. His father had all but abandoned his family, and as a result Ravonne did not grow up with his first cousins or his grandmother Jean-Mary. Whenever he asked his father why he was estranged from his family, the question was dismissed as a taboo topic. Not even his mother could answer the question. It seemed that she just went with the flow, and that was nothing more than assuring that Ravonne finished private school and Yale Law at the top of his classes. Ravonne did, and during that time his father made his way from Philadelphia Mayor to Governor of Pennsylvania.
None of that had assisted with Ravonne’s career. He didn’t want to ride his father’s coat tail to garner success, and he was on the right track to making his own footing in the Keystone State. His was about to tackle his first federal case and was prepared to keep his perfect acquittal record. He had been employed by Martir, Savino and Associates, a center city Philadelphia billing nursery and on top of the world of litigation in the tri-state area.
He had a mahogany bar in his office and he pulled away from the discovery and poured a jubilee. He stared at the mirror above the bar and thanked God that he looked twenty, but was 29. Chocolate Hershey coated skin covered a chiseled physique that never hurt the eyes. Ravonne, with his chestnut-brown eyes and gorgeous smile, defined eye-candy depending upon who looked. He had not drunk from the fountain of youth, but he was a stud and dated R & B singer Dajuan Jones. They shared a son, Brandon, who was a four-year-old genius, and lived in a fancy home near the trendy South Street. He read the dictionary every night and had a wealthy selection of words to use against anyone. And prosecutors were the most abused by his subtle nasty words.
He sat back at his desk and smiled at the discovery. I am going to win this puppy and thus my career as a federal criminal defense attorney will be born, he thought. That was his problem, he was cocky and confidence and that was a deadly combination.