Lucretia Anesthesia

Came the day for my first court appearance with James Phycks, aka Jimmie Fix, aka Mr. Fix, my new attorney. I arrived at the library/town hall/court complex of Pentown, New Amsterdam. I parked nearest to the court side, and walked in. I took the metal out of my pockets, and went through the metal detector. As I gathered my things again and began putting them into my pockets, who should come up to me but [redacted] McMurphree, my previous attorney.

“Did you find out about the TEASER?” he asked. He was almost giddy with excitement.

As I say, I have a glass forehead. I must have given him a look with a mixture of incredulity and disgust. The guy who told me I looked healthy, was fine, and who wouldn’t fight back against the lying Sheriff’s Deputies suddenly wants to know all about my TEASER-ing? I didn’t say a word. I just looked at him, dumbfounded.

He must have realized his ridiculous faux pas. He stepped back and mumbled “Oh, I guess you can’t talk about it.” He scurried away, and I refuse to write ‘like the rat he was’ because that wouldn’t be right; he did get me this far, at least, and I should be somewhat grateful. I went into the courtroom and took a seat.

Again, I took a seat as close to the front as I could. I wanted to see and hear everything, to get a feel for the judge, the proceedings, the clerk, the bailiff: everything. I watched the judge, and he glanced at me a few times, it seemed. After a while, Jimmy Fix came up behind me and whispered “Come on out to the hall. Let’s talk.”

“Good.” he said. “Nice suit. I forgot to tell you; always wear a suit. Looks like you figured that out already. Listen; this is our first appearance together. They all know I’m taking your case; the Judge, the ADA, everyone. When I was first coming up through the ranks, I was an ADA here. This was my territory. I know this Judge. Good Judge. Fair. Whatever rules you had with McMurphree are probably the same with me. You don’t talk. I talk. You stand there and look innocent. Oh, hi, McMurphree. ”

[redacted] McMurphree walked by and said “Hi, Jimmy.” He didn’t even look at me. He walked off. (See? I didn’t write ‘scurried.’)

“McMurphree gave me his copy of your case file, which was good of him. He didn’t have to do that. I reviewed it. I get it. Your retainer check cleared, so I thank you for that. I’m signed in with the court already. Let’s go sit back down and wait.” Mr. Phycks didn’t waste words.

We sat down for a bit, but Mr. Fix was amped up. He got up and went around behind the Clerk of Court’s desk, opened a door marked ‘Private,’ and walked on into the room behind it, shutting it behind himself. I figured it was the attorney’s ante room.

After a few cases went before the Judge, Mr. Fix came back and sat beside me. “We’re next” he whispered.

“The People Versus Marlin” read out the bailiff. We approached our podium.

“Lucretia Anesthesia for The People, your honor”

“James Joseph Phycks for the defense, your honor.”

“Your Honor,” began Assistant District Attorney (ADA) Lucretia Anesthesia “I will be representing The People’s case going forward. I see the defendant was unhappy with his previous representation and has brought in a Civil Rights attorney. If Mr. Phycks thinks he has a civil rights case on his hands, I’d like him to present his charges, so The People can prepare a defense. In any event, I consider the charges against Mr. Marlin to be quite serious, and no allegation of a ‘Civil Rights’ violation will deter The People from vigorously prosecuting this case.” She glared at Phycks with an angry sneer.

Mr. Phycks, unfazed, raised his arms out, left and right, palms up, and said “Your Honor, my practice is not limited to Civil Rights cases. Mr. Marlin knocked on my door, we came to an agreement, and here I am. A man’s got to eat. This is how I put food on the table. I don’t work for the ADA. So no, she can’t see my playbook, or tell me which card to play, or when to play it. If Ms. Anesthesia is concerned for my client’s Civil Rights, then perhaps she can tell us which of his Civil Rights she thinks the Sheriff’s Deputies may have violated. Surely they’ve told her of any wrongs they may have committed during their highly suspect arrest of my new client. Pulsus Heronae.”

Both Mr Fix and ADA Anesthesia then looked to Judge Judgeson.

“The court recognizes Mr. Phycks and ADA Anesthesia. Mr. Phycks, are you satisfied with any material you may have received from attorney McMurphree regarding this case?”

“Yes, Your Honor, I have received most of the information I require. I’ve reviewed the case. I do have a couple of questions. May I still file motions? I’d like to file a motion for a probable cause hearing.”

“The people object to a probable cause hearing, your Honor” Anesthesia immediately interrupted. “Attorney McMurphree never requested one, and in fact we were on the verge of a plea deal before, suddenly and without warning, The People are now facing a Civil Rights attorney.”

‘Damn’ I thought ‘this chick seems afraid of my new guy, Jimmie Fix.’ I was impressed. Did McMurphree not tell anyone I wanted more details? More paperwork? I wanted my narrative! I wanted to read ‘We TEASER-ed his ass 10 times before we could re-cuff him’ or some such report.

“Your Honor,” Phycks jumped in, “if my client’s previous attorney had asked for a probable cause hearing, this might not have been a case any longer. It might’ve been settled by now. I’d like a probable cause hearing, and I’d also like to see the rest of the arrest report.”

“There is no more paperwork.” Anesthesia broke in. “The Sheriff’s Department gave us everything, and we gave everything to the defense.”

“Your Honor, I’ve looked into this,” countered Phycks “and I want a copy of the ‘Subject Management Report.'”

Judge Judgeson pointed a finger at Lucretia Anesthesia, and it seemed the entire court room froze, and listened.

“I don’t care what you call it, Ms. Anesthesia, but if you don’t produce the report the defense has been asking for for the past six weeks, your case is in jeopardy. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Honor” came the meek reply.

“This case is adjourned for the day. Please contact the clerk to schedule a mutually agreeable time for our next hearing. Next case, Bailiff.”

“The People are ready for trial” said ADA Anesthesia.

I looked at Mr. Fix. “They’re ready for trial?” I whispered.

“No,” he answered “they’re not ready, but she’s required to say that. If a case has been active a certain amount of time they are required to ‘announce readiness’ at the end of each hearing. She’ll say that at every hearing from here on out.”

“Nobody from the district attorney’s office has talked to my wife or kids.” I protested.

“No, and they won’t, if they don’t think they have to. They think you’ll cave in, and take their plea deal. This case is yours to win. Stick with me. Don’t give up. Let’s make them work for it if they want the win.”

“OK,” I said “let’s fight.”