It was in that moment, a moment where Greg was convinced all hope was gone, when he had the full realization he was a suspect in a major crime. And shortly after, another realization. If he was indeed a suspect he was entitled to a lawyer being present.
"I'm not answering any more questions!"- squelched Greg. "I want to see a lawyer!"
"Suit yourself."- muddled Detective Barry
The detectives immediately walked out of the room. Leaving Greg there, alone, with nothing but the humming of the central air blasting into the room. It was a low hum. Like the sound every Hollywood blockbuster movie spaceship makes. Greg was in the eye of the worst emotional storm of his life to date. He couldn't be more aware of it had scripted it himself.
Tink-tink- the sound of a tapping on the door. A sound as if to ask permission before entering. And in walks a young, attractive professional looking lady.
"Good afternoon Gregory. I am Gabrielle Ortiz. I am your court appointed lawyer if you so choose to accept one."
"The first thing I want to establish is what exactly you have shared with the police and what kinds of questions they were asking you. I'm not concerned with your side of the story at this time, if you even recall it, all I am concerned about at right now is if the information you provided them was obtained lawfully "
Greg chimed in "Don't you want to know if I'm innocent?"
"Greg you ARE innocent until a jury of 12 of your peers decides other wise. Along with of course, the help of our over zealous San Diego police detectives."
"What's going to happen to me??"- crooned Greg, burying his head in his hands. "What's gong to happen???"
Tears began to well up in the corners of Greg's eyes. Greg hadn't cried for years. Not since loosing his second child Jeremiah at the age of 2. Greg would often lay in bed at night wondering if there was something wrong with him. It was so hard for him to cry. He cried only out of deep tragedy. It didn't matter how depressed he felt, how much physical pain he was enduring or if someone close had passed away. There was nearly nothing that could make him cry. And now he sat here in this cold iron chair, in a cold and isolated room, wondering, if there was something wrong with him. He wondered what it was that he was being suspected of and if he indeed was guilty. "What's wrong with me? Was I a witness to a crime and can't remember it? And worse yet, what's wrong with me if I am actually capable committing of crime?"
Gabrielle broke Greg's paused thoughtful silence. "Greg", "Greg"........... "GREG" she spoke firmly and with volume. Greg snapped out of his introspection. Looking up at her with a blank stare. His glossy eyes looked almost unreal.
"If I am going to be able to help you I will need you to focus and cooperate. I'm sure there is a lot going on in your mind right now but you are being charged with murder Greg. Murder! And if you want me to help defend you we need to work together"
Greg fell to the floor First to his knees as if to pray, but almost immediately after to his side, curling up in the fetal position and uncontrollably sobbing.
Gabrielle jumped up, charged out of the room and swung open the door. Before the spring loaded door could even fully retract she was barking orders at the group of detectives standing arms crossed, watching expressionless from outside the one sided viewing window.
"I want a full psychiatric evaluation on him, I want him in protective custody and more importantly I want to know why the hell you questioned him without reading him his Miranda's or informing him he was a suspect."
"And get him a glass of water! He's as pale as a white horse!"
And Gabrielle stormed off down the hall, through the commons and disappeared through the next door.
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