Ravonne dreamed of the best day that any defense attorney could hope for. No meetings, no court appearances, no briefs to be written, and no phone calls/e-mails to return. He had not had one of those since he was an associate of the firm. And that was never since he was recruited right out of Yale Law School. His ticket on the federal circuit had arrived, though, and he didn’t want a break.
He was in an interview room at the United States Courthouse pretending to be busy with his case files. Ravonne was reading sports news that he had printed to pass the time away. He had been at the courthouse since six a.m. and was very prepared to make a hot federal trial debut. In the weeks before the trial, he had been assigned fewer clients, as the senior partners looked for him to excel and bring the firm a win. He had strategically planned and outlined his case with Greenburg and somethings were just going to be done his way. The theatrical way!
Winning was what Ravonne was all about. He had watched the Law & Order prosecutorial team creatively and fictionally do what it takes to win cases. For him, the problem was that the prosecution was always on the winning end. He wanted to have the same undefeated record from the defense side of the courtroom. That far in state court he was blemished free, but he had entered the big league and was absolutely ready to serve, conquer and destroy Barnswell.
There was a knock on the room door and Kareem walked in. He shut the door behind him and smiled.
“Um, you’re reading sports,” Kareem said and cracked up.
“Keep quiet. We’re not supposed to be having fun, for crying out loud,” Ravonne said with a finger to his lips. “You know I’m keeping up with football and my fantasy team. They done gave Mike Vick 100-million.”
“Man, we have better things to do. I saw your wife too.”
“Ex-wife!” Ravonne snapped back tersely. “And I don’t want to hear shit about her. She left me and our son.”
“You left her for a man, but we’re not going to get into that here today. I read the prosecutions trial brief.”
“Okay. I am more concerned about your brother’s insanity brief.”
“That joker is going to deny that shit and rely on the appeals court to settle it. Along with reading the brief, I did some legal research over night and the likelihood of Dre’s motion bein granted at this level is very slim.”
“It’s going to be interesting, Reem, but you have to have faith in the legal gods. Motions were supposed to be submitted two weeks prior to trial with the exception of Motions In Limine, which are motions made before or during a trial requesting that the judge rule that certain evidence may, or may not, be introduced to the jury in a trial. This is a change in plea motion and the ultimate determination will be placed in the hands of the jury. They will have to decide if he was not able to appreciate his crimes.”
“Somethings are just not possible. This is bullshit. But I am ready to get into this courtroom and stare down these jurors.”
“Who do you think is the best hope for a mistrial?”
“Funny you ask that, as I have thought about that white lady that was juror number one. She was taking notes from the beginning of being selected. It seems like she is going to be paying attention to every detail and making notes. Gotta communicate with her during your opening.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Ravonne said sarcastically. “You’re the thief and I am the lawyer remember.”
They both laughed quietly and Ravonne began to gather his belongings. There was something grandiose about what was about to transpire. He had a gut feeling that this was going to be an uphill battle, but the defense had an opportunity to get a mistrial at minimum. His legal life was on the line. “Let’s go, champ,” he told Kareem and opened the interview room door.
Men and women wearing yellow jurors stickers were gathered in the hallway, and Ravonne wrapped his arm around Kareem’s shoulders and ushered him into the courtroom. He was showing his support. Acknowledging that he supported his client and believed in his case.
Ravonne and Kareem entered the courtroom and found their places at the table next to Greenburg and Andre. They seemed to be debating, or working out details. Ravonne’s investigator, Jonathan Rude, was right behind the defense table along with Greenburg’s two assistants. In the third row center of the gallery sat Jean-Mary, Tasha and Amir. Toi was a prosecution witness and was sequestered with the other witnesses for the prosecution. There were media members sprinkled about, as well as two courtroom deputies very close to the prisoner. A Secret Service member sat at the back of the courtroom as well. The gallery was crowded and Ravonne viewed the spectators as his audience.
Nine-thirty arrived and the courtroom deputy asked if all parties involved were prepared to proceed. Everyone was and the courtroom deputy picked up his phone and contacted the judge.
“I’m not ready,” Andre yelled out to the deputy. The Secret Service agent immediately became alert and the other deputies approached the table.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Kareem whispered.
“Are you kidding, Andre?” Greenburg asked and frowned. “You cannot have an outburst like that. Do you want to watch your trial from a TV monitor?”
“Yes,” said the Secret Service Agent. “Because the next time you have that sort of outburst, I assure you that you will be out of here, and for good.”
“We’ll take care of this,” Greenburg said.
“We’re not taking care of shit!” Andre yelled.
“Let’s go. Stand up and cuff up,” the Secret Service Agent said. “We’re not having this.”
“Neither am I. I wanna go back into the cells and speak with my lawyer,” Andre said as he was walked through the courtroom and taken behind a door.
“Um, Greenburg,” Barnswell said across the room. “We’re not having a mistrial here at all.”
“No one asked you to submit to one,” Greenburg said and then tapped Ravonne to join him in a corner of the courtroom.