“No.”
“The manager claims you opened an account there on June 14th.”
“Never happened. Never been in that bank,” Beaumont said rhythmically.
“How about First Regional. The prosecutor claims you opened an account at First Regional Bank on June 14th as well.”
“Never been there neither.”
“They have a teller who claims she can identify you.”
“She’s lying.”
“They have a video from First Regional with you on it.”
“Let me see the video and I can tell you.”
“This is a waste of time!” Corbin declared. He rose from his seat and reached for the file, causing Beaumont to pushed his chair away from the table.
“Everybody hold on!” Beckett commanded. He signaled Corbin to step outside.
“This is a waste of time,” Corbin repeated to Beckett, as Beaumont watched them through the glass. “He may not have done this, but he’s lying to us about being in these banks. How are we supposed to help him if he lies to us?”
“That’s what you get in the system. Every one of these guys lies through their teeth. They want to control the story. They come up with something they think they can sell and they stick with it. They lie to the cops. They lie to the jury. They lie to the judge. They even lie to their lawyers.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. We’re his lawyers. We’re here to help him.”
Beckett shrugged his shoulders and folded his arms. “Not in his world. I’ve met hundreds of guys like him. Every one of them lied. Not one of them trusted me, at least not at first. Every one of them thinks they can control what happens by lying. They all think they’re the cleverest liar on the planet and the story they’ve come up with is a better story than the truth.”
“Well this guy is lying himself right into a conviction. You’ve seen the file. You know they can put him in those two banks. If he sticks with his story that he’s never been there, then he’s doomed.”
Beckett swayed back and forth, something he did whenever he was deep in thought. “We need to rattle his confidence. We need him to realize he’s out of his league this time, that his lies won’t work. I hate doing that though, because it can ruin the attorney-client relationship.”
“I’ll do it. I deposed witnesses for my uncle when he was busy.” During law school, Corbin worked for his uncle’s law practice.
Beckett nodded his head. “Ok. Hit him with everything in the file, twist him around as much as you can. You need to shake him. I’ll play good cop when the time is right. Don’t worry about the rules of evidence or admissibility, he won’t know the difference, so I’ll let you get away with more than you could at trial.”
Returning to the visitation room, Corbin reviewed his notes as Beckett explained that Corbin would go over the prosecution’s case with Beaumont. Beckett would observe.
“You claim you’ve never been in First Regional Bank?” Corbin began.
“That’s what I said.”
“And you don’t have an account there either?”
“Of course not, I never been there,” Beaumont replied condescendingly.
“The prosecutor has a video that disagrees with you. It shows you in First Regional.”
“Let me see the video.”
“You’ll see the video at trial. I’ve seen it, and there’s no mistaking you,” Corbin lied. He’d only seen a description of the video at this point.
Beaumont glanced at Beckett. “This is all attorney-client shit, right?”
“Yes,” Beckett responded.
“You can’t tell nobody what I say?”
“No one.”
Beaumont folded his arms and returned his attention to Corbin. “I was there with a friend.”
“You’re alone on the video,” Corbin countered.
Beaumont shrugged.
“If you don’t have an account at the bank and you weren’t there with a friend, why were you there?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Was it because you have a fake account there in some other name?”
“No.”
“So you just like hanging out at First Regional?” Corbin asked snidely. When Beaumont refused to answer, Corbin continued. “Do you have an account at Penn Bancorp?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember if you have an account there? You know that’s an easy one to look up?”
“I ain’t got no account.”
“Then what were you doing there?”
Beaumont again didn’t respond.
“Why were you at Penn Bancorp on June 14th?” Corbin pressed him.
“I don’t know, I forgot.”
Corbin laughed. “You forgot?”
“Yeah, I don’t remember. I’m not debatin’ wit’ chu.”
“Do you know what the manager says?”
“I don’t know no manager.”
Corbin flipped over several pages in his notepad. “That’s funny, she remembers you. She says you opened an account in the name of Scott Stevens.” Stevens worked with Corbin in the Washington office.
“I don’t know nothin’ about that.”
“Nothing?” Corbin asked with mock surprise.
“No, nothin’.”
“So you can’t refute her statement then.”
“I didn’t say that,” Beaumont blurted out. “You putting words in my mouth!”
“Where did the checkbooks and credit cards come from?”
“The cop planted them-”
“Which cop?” Corbin demanded even before Beaumont finished speaking.
“I don’t know, I didn’t see which cop,” Beaumont answered. He was becoming confused. Corbin had increased the pace of his questions, giving Beaumont less time to think. This was breaking down Beaumont’s prepared story.
“You told us earlier you watched him ‘drop the evidence’ before they hauled you to the cruiser.”
“So what?”
“So which is it? Did you see him ‘drop the evidence’ or did they do it after you left?”
“I saw ’em drop it.”
“Then which cop did it?”
“Man, I don’t know,” Beaumont replied angrily. He wiped the sweat from his brow against the upper part of his sleeve; the shackles kept him from lifting his hands to his head.
“Did they plant the gun as well?”
“Yeah, that ain’t my piece. I don’t own no piece.”
“Have you ever owned a gun?” Corbin increased the pace of his questioning again.
“Naw, man. I don’t need no gun.”
Corbin flipped to another page in his notes, and without missing a beat, asked: “Didn’t you make the same claim two years ago, that the cops planted a gun on you?”
“Yeah, ’cause they did.”
“And you made the same claim the year before that!”
When Beaumont didn’t respond, Beckett interrupted: “Beaumont, at trial, the judge will make you answer these questions.”
Beaumont shot an angry, doubtful look at Beckett. “I don’t got to answer nothin’. I got constitutional rights to remain silent.”
Beckett shook his head. “If you choose to testify, then you need to answer all questions. You can’t pick and choose which ones you want to answer.”
Beaumont visibly recoiled.
Corbin resumed his attack in the same aggressive manner as before. “What do you do for a living, Beaumont?”
“I make do,” Beaumont responded, as he glanced around the room.
“Where do you work?”
“What do you care?!”
“You sell drugs for a living, don’t you.”
“No.”
Corbin’s eyes bore into Beaumont’s. “You were arrested five years ago for selling crack cocaine.”
“Man, they arrested me, but I didn’t do nothing.”
“When they arrested you, they found $4,200 on you.”
“That ain’t no crime.”
“Those dollars were in fact marked, correct?”
“How would I know?”
Corbin reached for the file. “I have in this file, the sworn testimony of two officers, who state the money found in your possession had been marked as part of a drug sales sting.”
“Look, man,” Beaumont said, sitting up straight and trying to point at the file, though his shackles prevented him from raising his hands more than a couple inches from his lap. “I had nothing to do with that! That was some of my boys. They running low on cash. They owed their street tax. So, they sold a little dark idol. Ain’t no crack. They give me some money I was owed, that’s it. The cops try to make me part of some conspiracy, but that ain’t true.”