“Yep,” Graylin says, smiling. He’s dressed in one of his church suits with a light-blue tie. His hair has been freshly cut and he’s even wearing a lemony-smelling cologne. So much of it, in fact, that it stings my nose.
Jenny squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t forget that Angela’s going to lead you every step of the way. Just like we practiced.”
“I know,” Graylin says, showing not a lick of nervousness. “I told you, I got this.”
I press the elevator button. “And I want short answers,” I remind him. “Not long ones. And remember that the prosecutor is going to be very nice when she asks you questions. But she’s not on your side. So listen very carefully to her questions before you answer.”
“Don’t worry, Ms. Angela. I watched three episodes of Law & Order last night. I know how prosecutors try to trick people. She’s not going to trip me up. I’m too smart for that.”
It’s a quick ride to the fifth floor. As we step off the elevator, Graylin suddenly clutches my arm with the desperation of a drowning swimmer.
“What’s the matter?” I say.
His face is ashen and his lips are quivering. I follow his gaze and see two uniformed police officers sitting on a bench down the hallway.
Graylin’s grasp on my arm tightens even more. “Those are the cops who arrested me!”
He darts behind my back, almost tripping me. I try to pull my arm free, but Graylin won’t let go.
“Calm down,” Jenny says. “They can’t do anything to you.”
“Are they going to be in the courtroom looking at me when I testify?” he whimpers.
“No,” Jenny assures him. “They’ll have to wait outside.”
The tension doesn’t leave Graylin’s face. He’s been upbeat since getting out of juvenile hall. The obnoxious teenager who disrupted the fitness hearing quickly morphed back into the sweet kid I know and love. Today, he’s like a frightened rabbit.
“Everything’s going to be fine.” I free my aching arm and throw it around Graylin’s shoulder. “Don’t even look their way.”
Jenny and I surround him, blocking his view of the cops as we walk past them.
Dre and Gus are seated on the back row of the gallery. I’m glad to see that the Carlyles aren’t here.
Graylin stops to give his worried father a hug. Dre hugs him too. Graylin’s relationship with Gus has definitely been fractured. I can see the weight of Gus’ fear for his son written all over his face. I swear he’s aged a few years since Graylin’s arrest.
We all take a seat at the defense table with Graylin sitting between us.
“When is the jury coming in?” Graylin asks.
Jenny and I exchange a cryptic glance. We’ve told Graylin there’s no jury for this hearing.
“This is just a hearing where the prosecutor has to convince the judge there’s enough evidence to take your case to trial, remember?” Jenny says. “So there’s no jury. The judge will decide everything.”
“Oh, yeah.” Graylin slaps his forehead. “I forgot. Sorry.”
The prosecutor walks in, sets her files down on the table, then comes over to introduce herself. Lorelei Sullivan is short with fiery-red hair and a friendly smile. She conveys the kind of self-assurance that would make you automatically gravitate toward her at a cocktail party.
A rear door opens and Judge Calvin Fuller takes the bench. “I understand we’re here for a preliminary hearing,” the judge says after we’ve stated our appearances for the record.
He’s a good draw for us. A fiftyish, South Central native and Hastings Law School grad, he’s smart, socially conscious and knows from experience that all cops aren’t good cops. He’s tall with salt-and-pepper hair and a distinctive goatee.
“Call your first witness, Ms. Sullivan,” Judge Fuller says.
I interrupt. “The defendant also has a suppression motion, Your Honor.”
Judge Fuller stares down at the papers on his desk.
“Okay, I see that here.”
“We’d like an instruction from the court limiting the prosecution’s questioning of the defendant to the Fourth and Fifth Amendment issues raised in our motion to suppress.”
The judge nods and looks over at the prosecutor. “Got that? Limit your cross of the defendant to the factual issues identified in the motion.”
“Understood,” Sullivan says.
It’s risky to put a defendant on the stand in a criminal case, even at a prelim. But without Graylin’s testimony, there’s no way we can show his rights were violated.
I expect Sullivan to call one of the cops who arrested Graylin, but instead, Gino Rivera, a young Hispanic boy, is her first witness.
“Who’s that?” I whisper to Graylin.
“I don’t know him, Ms. Angela. I never saw him before.”
As it turns out, the kid is a current resident at juvenile hall. He testifies that according to Little Slice, Graylin was in on the plan to threaten Kennedy to drop the case. This kid would never be allowed to testify at trial because his testimony is all hearsay. But hearsay is admissible at a prelim.
Graylin insists the kid is lying and is about to jump out of his skin. Rivera’s testimony doesn’t freak me out nearly as much as it should. The fact that Sullivan didn’t call Little Slice to testify tells me he won’t back up this story. Without Little Slice or someone else tying Graylin directly to the threats against Kennedy, the prosecution won’t be able to prove the witness intimidation charge. I spend a few minutes eliciting testimony that the boy has no direct evidence of anything he testified to and that Little Slice—who’s been in and out of juvie since he was ten—is a liar and braggart.
Sullivan’s next witness is L.A.P.D. Officer Alan Chin. The bailiff steps outside and escorts Chin into the courtroom. Sullivan asks only a handful of questions about his background, then moves to the salient points.
“When you showed up at Marcus Preparatory Academy on May tenth, what was your understanding of the reason the police were called?”
“The principal received a report that the defendant had a naked picture of another student, Kennedy Carlyle, on his phone. Child pornography is a very serious issue these days. The report also said that the defendant threatened to post the picture all over the internet to embarrass the girl.”
“What happened when you arrived at the school?”
“The defendant was waiting for us in the principal’s office. We asked him if he wanted to speak to us and he agreed, so we took him into the principal’s conference room.”
Graylin is squirming like a worm, whispering to us that the cop is lying on him. Jenny is trying to calm him down so I can concentrate on taking notes for my cross.
“Did you identify yourself as a police officer?” Sullivan asks.
“Yes.”
“Was anyone else with you?”
“Yes, my partner, Officer Fenton.”
“What happened once you went into the conference room?”
“We told—I mean—we asked Graylin to take a seat. I asked him if he had a naked picture of Kennedy Carlyle on his phone and he lied and said no. He also lied to the principal when she asked him about it.”
“Did you ask him if you could look at his phone?”
“Yes. He lied again and said it was in his locker, but then the phone started ringing.”
“Then what happened?”
“I asked him if I could see his phone and he said okay. So he put in his password and handed it to my partner. Fenton didn’t see anything on it, but when I checked his deleted pictures, I found the picture. He probably deleted it right before we got there.”
“Objection,” I say. “Lack of foundation, calls for speculation.”
“Sustained.”
“Could you describe the picture?”
“It appeared to be a young girl in a bedroom. She was st
anding and was completely naked.”
“Did you later confirm the identity of the girl in the picture?”
“Yes, the principal confirmed that it was Kennedy Carlyle, a classmate of the defendant.”
“When the defendant voluntarily entered the conference room to speak with you, was he under arrest?”
“No.”
“So he was free to leave at any time?”
“Of course.”
“At any time during your meeting with the defendant, did you tell him that he couldn’t leave the room?”
“No. And he never once asked to leave.”
“And did you force him to hand over his phone?”
“No. He willingly gave it to us.”
“And how long did the interview last?”
“Fifteen, twenty minutes, tops.”
“No further questions,” Sullivan says.
I’m standing even before the judge gives me the go-ahead.
“Officer Chin, since you knew that you were being called to Marcus Prep because a student allegedly had a naked picture on his phone, did you obtain a search warrant for my client’s phone before showing up at the school?”
“No.”
“Did you read my client his Miranda rights before commencing your interrogation?”
“It wasn’t an interrogation. We were just talking to him.”
“Did you read him his Miranda rights?”
“No. I didn’t need to because he wasn’t under arrest.”
“Did you examine the so-called report that my client had a naked picture on his phone?”
He shrugs. “Yeah. The principal showed the note to me.”
“Was that note signed by anyone?”
“No.”
“And you felt you had probable cause to interrogate my client based on a simple anonymous note?”
“It wasn’t an interrogation. Anyway, we didn’t need probable cause since your client agreed to talk to us.”
“Isn’t it correct that you ordered my client into the conference room?”
“No. We asked him if he wanted to talk to us and he agreed.”
“What were your exact words?”
Officer Chin repositions himself in the chair. “It was something like, Would you like to talk with us? And he said, Okay.”
I hear the muffled voice of Graylin behind me and I’m praying Jenny can quiet him down.
“Did you identify yourself as a police officer?”
“Yeah. I said, I’m Officer Chin. And I was also in uniform, so there’s no doubt he knew.”
“Did you tell Graylin he didn’t have to go into the conference room to talk to you?”
“No, but he was free to decline.”
“You testified that Graylin wasn’t under arrest. So was he free to leave the conference room?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“I’m not sure. I may have.”
“Didn’t Graylin tell you that his father told him not to talk to the police without his permission?”
“I think he may have mentioned that.”
“How many times?”
“At least once.”
“Wasn’t it more like four or five times?”
“No, I don’t think it was that many.”
“So why did you continue to question him after he told you that his father told him not to speak to the police without his permission?”
“We’re only required to suspend questioning if someone asks for an attorney and he didn’t do that. And, like I said, it wasn’t like he was under arrest or anything. If he didn’t want to talk to us, he could’ve left.”
“So you think a fourteen-year-old boy locked in a conference room with two police officers would think he could just get up and walk out?”
“Well, he could.”
“Was he also free to leave school grounds anytime he felt like it?”
“Objection, calls for speculation,” Sullivan says.
Judge Fuller takes two beats before responding. “Overruled. The witness can answer.”
Chin is bright enough to follow Sullivan’s lead and avoid speculating. “I don’t know the school’s rules. I only know that the defendant was free to leave the conference room.”
“Did you pound the table with your fist and say, Give me the damn phone?”
“I asked for the phone. I don’t recall pounding the table, but I do recall him telling me his phone was in his locker, which was a lie and—”
That’s not what I asked you, asshole.
“Officer Chin, my question was whether you pounded the table with your fist and said, Give me the damn phone.”
“I don’t recall.”
Graylin’s voice disrupts my focus. “But he’s lying on me, Ms. Jenny!”
I turn around and give him the meanest look I can muster. I’m grateful the judge didn’t hear him.
“Isn’t it correct that you demanded that my client give you his password?”
“No, we didn’t demand anything.”
“Did Graylin type in his password?”
“I don’t remember.”
“And for the record, you have no proof that Graylin deleted the picture from his phone that day or any other day, correct?”
He shrugs.
“I didn’t hear your answer, Officer Chin.”
“It’s his phone. He must’ve done it.”
“But you have no proof of that, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“I have no further questions.”
As soon as I return to the defense table, Graylin grabs my arm. “He’s lying, Ms. Angela,” he says, near tears. “He made me give him the phone! I didn’t know I could leave!”
“I know. I need you to calm down. Getting upset won’t help your case. The judge knows he’s lying.” At least I hope he does.
Sullivan doesn’t do a redirect, so Officer Chin is dismissed. The bailiff calls Officer Fenton from the hallway. Sullivan only asks him enough questions to back up Officer Chin’s statements, then hands him over to me.
“Officer Fenton, didn’t my client repeatedly say that his father had instructed him not to talk to the police without his permission?”
“Yes, he did mention that.”
“How many times?”
“I’m not quite sure.”
“At least three?”
“Probably.”
“At least four times?”
“Maybe.”
“So if your partner testified that it was only one time, you would disagree with that, correct?”
His shoulders hunch and his eyes dart toward the prosecutor. “It’s hard to remember the exact number.”
“But it was at least four times, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“And why didn’t you stop your interrogation when he told you he couldn’t talk to you without his father’s permission?”
“It wasn’t an interrogation and he wasn’t under arrest. It wasn’t like he was invoking his Miranda rights. He never asked for an attorney.”
“Do you think a fourteen-year-old-boy dragged into a conference room by two police officers would know to invoke his Miranda rights?”
Before Sullivan can object, Fenton does it for her.
“We didn’t drag him anywhere.”
“How close were you sitting to my client while you were interrogating him?”
“I was sitting next to him.”
“And your chair was turned sideways so you were facing the side of his body, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And your knee was touching his leg, correct?
Officer Fenton stutters. “I-I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember touchi
ng his leg?”
“Well, I may have.”
“Did Officer Chin pound the table with his fist during the interrogation of Graylin?”
“He might have.”
“He might have or he did?”
“Yeah, I guess he did.”
“Do you think Graylin was intimidated by that?”
Sullivan jumps in before he can answer. “Objection, calls for speculation.”
“Sustained,” the judge says.
“Did Graylin look scared when Officer Chin pounded the table?”
“Yeah, a little. I guess.”
“Didn’t he start crying?”
Fenton shrugs again. “Yeah, after we found out he was lying about having his phone with him.”
“And didn’t he even wet his pants?”
“Yeah, but we weren’t aware of that until we put him in the squad car.”
“When Officer Chin pounded the table with his fist, did he say to Graylin, Give me the damn phone?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“And you typed in Graylin’s password, not him, correct?”
“Yeah, but he gave it to us.”
“I have no further questions, Your Honor.”
I take my seat. Jenny nods approvingly. Graylin’s knee is bouncing, probably because he knows what’s coming next.
Sullivan doesn’t do a redirect and tells the judge she has no further witnesses.
Judge Fuller turns to me. “Call your first witness.”
I say a quick prayer and return to my feet. “The defense calls Graylin Alexander.”
CHAPTER 59
Angela
As Graylin trudges toward the witness stand, I pray he sticks to our script. It’s always risky to have a defendant testify at the prelim because his statements can be used against him at trial. Having a child witness, who can be easily manipulated by a skilled prosecutor, is doubly risky. I plan to zero in on the police interrogation and get him off the stand as quickly as possible.
Graylin looks like a miniature country preacher sitting in the witness box. His tightly clasped hands highlight his nervousness.
“Did your teacher take you to the principal’s office on May tenth?” I begin.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did you believe you could say no when your teacher told you she was taking you to the principal’s office?”
Abuse of Discretion Page 21
