Chris Knight: Attorney at Law

I made my way into the bustling courtroom, my eyes scanning the rows of wooden benches until I spotted my client. Quickening my pace, I hurried over to where Diana was waiting, her posture tense and her eyes darting nervously around the room.

"Hey Diana," I greeted her, taking in her appearance. Diana was a pretty young woman in her mid-twenties, with long blonde hair that cascaded past her shoulders. Her slender yet curvy figure was accentuated by the conservative blouse and knee-length skirt she had chosen for court. While her outfit was a far cry from her usual attire, she still managed to look attractive, albeit in a more subdued way than when I had first met her.

"Hey," Diana responded, her voice barely above a whisper. She attempted a smile, but it came across as **** and didn't reach her eyes. The tension in her shoulders and the way she fidgeted with her hands betrayed her nervousness.

Sensing her anxiety, I leaned in closer. "Relax. I got your back," I reassured her, my voice low and confident. I slid my hand down her arm, grasping her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. The gesture seemed to calm her slightly.

"Thanks," Diana murmured, her smile a bit more genuine this time as she returned the squeeze.

Reaching into my briefcase, I pulled out a bottle of water. "Here," I said, offering it to her. "If you get dry-mouthed, drink this. Don't speak unless the judge asks you something directly, okay?"

Diana nodded, accepting the bottle with slightly trembling hands. "Okay," she agreed, her voice steadier now.

Suddenly, the bailiff's voice rang out across the courtroom. "Case number seven eight two seven six. The people versus Diana Dawes."

I straightened up, adjusting my tie. "That's us," I said to Diana, reaching over to touch her shoulder softly, encouraging her to move forward. We approached the desk at the front of the courtroom, Diana following closely behind me.

As we walked, I turned to her once more. "Relax," I whispered, offering a reassuring smile before facing the judge. In a clear, confident voice, I announced, "Christopher Knight for the defense, representing Ms. Dawes, Your Honor."

"Mister Knight, I do not believe we have had the pleasure of having you in my court before?" The judge looked up at me, his weathered face framed by silver-rimmed glasses. His piercing gaze seemed to assess me, taking in my freshly pressed suit and the nervous energy I was trying to conceal.

"I only just graduated from law school your honor and am still cutting my teeth," I replied with a smile, hoping to mask my inexperience with confidence. This was only my third court case since passing the bar, a fact that made my palms sweat slightly. Up until now, I had only worked as a paralegal, advising actual lawyers while attending law school. The weight of responsibility for my client's fate pressed heavily on my shoulders.

The old judge's lips quirked into a small smile as he shifted his gaze to the prosecutor. "I am sure Mister Williams will go easy on you." The man he addressed, the prosecutor, was easily twice my age. His salt-and-pepper hair and well-worn suit spoke of years of courtroom experience.

“I hope not your honor.” I shook my head and gave a smile. I did not plan to take it easy on him.

The judge raised an eyebrow at my response before continuing. "So be it." He glanced down at the papers before him, then looked back up, peering over his glasses. "Mister Knight, it says here your client is charged with two counts of solicitation, one count of subletting her rental property to make a pornographic film, and one count of making a pornographic film without a license. How does she plead?"

"Innocent of course your honor," I responded without hesitation, my voice steady and clear. "As there is no evidence of said crimes." I gave a small shrug, projecting an air of casual confidence. Inside, however, my heart was racing, knowing that this moment could make or break our case.
The prosecutor, Mr. Williams, didn't miss a beat. His voice rang out, filled with the assurance of a man who had done this countless times before. "Nice try, but there was a video camera at the scene your honor, and the room was filled with film equipment." He smiled, a hint of condescension in his expression as he glanced my way.
I had anticipated this move. Keeping my composure, I quickly countered, "Which was obtained without a search warrant, your honor, and the chain of evidence was broken." I paused for effect, then added, "My client is a student majoring in film and stored the film equipment in her room." As I spoke, I reached into my satchel and pulled out a folder, the sound of rustling papers filling the momentary silence.
The judge leaned forward, his interest piqued. "You said the chain of evidence was broken. Do you have proof of that, Mister Knight?" His tone was neutral, but I could sense the challenge in his words.

"I do, your honor," I replied, my confidence growing. I opened the folder and began to lay out our case. "I have pictures outside the apartment building of officers viewing the camera. None of these officers in these pictures are on the arrest report and showed up after the fact, meaning the camera was not in possession of the arresting officer on the scene and was passed around by the officers."

I strode forward, dropping a copy of the photos on the prosecution's desk with a soft thud. Mr. Williams' eyebrows shot up as he glanced at the documents. I then handed the other copy to the bailiff, who passed it to the judge.

"As you can see, your honor,"the officers were viewing the video. Not to mention, the camera was both seized and viewed without a search warrant." I paused, letting the implications of my words sink in. "This means the evidence is inadmissible as it left the arresting officer's sight and thus broke the chain of custody."

I could feel the shift in the courtroom's atmosphere. The prosecutor's confident smile had faded, replaced by a look of concern as he hurriedly flipped through the documents. The judge was studying the photos intently, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Your honor, one of the roommates let the police into the apartment, so they did not need a warrant,” the prosecutor replied, his tone confident as he leaned slightly forward, trying to assert his position. His eyes flicked between the judge and me, as if searching for any sign of weakness in my argument.

“Yes, but that said roommate did not give the police the authority to enter my client’s bedroom,” I countered, keeping my voice steady and firm. “The bedroom is not part of the common area of the house. Before the prosecution claims that the camera was in plain sight, I would like to point out that the camera was turned off when the officers seized it, and the bedroom door was closed. They entered my client’s bedroom without permission and found my client filming her two friends in the act of lovemaking, then seized her camera.” I paused for a moment to let my words sink in. “Since this is a shared house, the bedroom counts as a separate occupancy. Therefore, we request that the camera and all footage be excluded from evidence and returned immediately to my client.”

The judge nodded slowly, considering my points. The prosecutor’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. “Your honor, it is clear that opposing counsel is merely trying to put up roadblocks to impede our prosecution,” he argued, attempting to regain control of the narrative.
“As is my right,” I interjected smoothly, refusing to back down. “Justice should be about punishing the guilty, not persecuting the citizenry. This situation is no different than a dorm room, your honor. Anyone can let an officer enter the building, but each room requires permission from its occupant to enter.” I emphasized my point deliberately, knowing that I was echoing sentiments from a thesis written by the judge during his own time in law school as well as concepts from a book he authored after becoming a judge. It was a subtle play on his pride—an attempt to align my argument with principles he valued deeply.

“Did they have permission to enter the room where the pornography was allegedly being filmed, Counselor?” The judge asked, his voice steady but probing.

The prosecutor flipped through his notes with increasing urgency, though I knew there would be nothing substantial to support his case. I had gathered more details from Diana and her friends than he had managed to compile. “I am not sure, your honor,” he finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “That information is not in the report. They knocked on the door and after several seconds one of the women looked out. The officers entered the room where they saw the other two women dressed in bathrobes and the video recorder.”

I could see a glimmer of doubt in the judge's eyes as he processed this information. The prosecutor’s lack of clarity about whether permission was granted for entry into a private space could prove pivotal in this case. I felt a surge of confidence; we were making headway against what had initially seemed like an uphill battle.

“We still have eyewitness testimony from one of the girls at the scene who testified that she was paid for her appearance in the amateur porno,” the prosecutor replied, his voice rising slightly as he sensed his case was now in jeopardy. He was trying to regain control, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he clenched his jaw.

“A witness who has since then decided not to testify and who will state that her testimony was **** under duress during the interrogation, your honor,” I interjected smoothly, allowing a small smile to play on my lips. It was true that I wouldn’t be representing her; she had found her own lawyer after realizing the gravity of the situation. But I knew her intentions and that she would not back down easily.

“Oh, come on, your honor,” the prosecutor exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone. His eyes darted between me and the judge, searching for any sign of support for his argument. It was clear he was rattled; he had relied heavily on this testimony to build his case.

I seized the moment, pulling out a stack of papers from my briefcase. “I have here a transcript of the interrogation,” I stated confidently, handing one copy to the prosecutor and another to the bailiff as he approached. The rustle of paper filled the air, punctuating my point.

The prosecutor glanced down at the document in his hand, skepticism etched across his face. “Your honor, I do not even have a transcript of this, so how can we be sure this is even real?” He looked up at the judge, trying to undermine my evidence with doubt.

“You are welcome to watch the tapes as I did to fact-check me, Mister Williams,” I said, my tone firm as I addressed the prosecutor. “As you can see, your honor, early in the interrogation highlighted on the second page, the witness was asked if she needed a lawyer, to which the interviewing officer responded that if she got a lawyer, they wouldn’t be able to help her and that she was already in deep trouble. This response effectively denied her right to legal counsel.” I glanced over at the prosecutor, gauging his reaction. “Before counsel even tries to argue that she did not technically ask for her lawyer but merely inquired if she needed one, the fact remains that the officer's advice against seeking legal representation constitutes a clear violation of my client’s Miranda rights. The Miranda warning explicitly states that she has the right to have an attorney present during questioning, and by implying that she did not need one, the interviewing officer undermined that right. Anything said after this point in the interview should be deemed inadmissible, your honor, as it was obtained under duress.”

I paused briefly to let my words resonate in the courtroom. “They were trying to paint her as a prostitute during the interrogation, suggesting that my client solicited her friend for sex. In reality, however, this woman is simply a friend and fellow classmate of my client who has never been arrested for prostitution before.”

“Your honor, we would like to take a short recess to discuss with the opposing counsel,” the prosecutor said, glancing over at me with a mix of irritation and desperation. It was clear that he was feeling the pressure, and I could sense that he was scrambling to regroup.

“Please do, while you still have a case to make a deal over,” the judge replied, his tone firm but not unkind. “I am of a mind to throw this whole thing out.” His words hung in the air, and I felt a surge of hope. The judge’s willingness to consider dismissing the case indicated that he was taking my arguments seriously.

“Time served and you drop all charges with prejudice against all three girls,” I interjected quickly, seizing the moment before the prosecutor could formulate a response. I wanted to ensure that we had a solid offer on the table before he could negotiate anything less favorable.

The prosecutor shot me a cross look, clearly annoyed by my assertiveness. “Your client still made a pornographic film without a license,” he retorted, trying to regain some control of the narrative. His voice was defensive, but I could see doubt creeping into his expression.

“Can you prove that without a camera or the footage to show a jury?” I countered smoothly, leaning forward slightly as I spoke. “I mean, I’m sure the officers probably made a copy or two, but that is not the image you want for the police department.” I let my words sink in, knowing that any scandal involving improper conduct by law enforcement would reflect poorly on their reputation.

“All you have is the officer’s testimony,” I continued, my confidence growing as I laid out my argument. “Drop all charges with prejudice, and I will give you this folder.” I pulled out a neatly organized folder from my briefcase and set it beside me on the edge of the table, making sure it caught his eye.

The prosecutor hesitated for a moment, glancing at the folder as if it held some hidden power. “What’s in there?” he asked suspiciously, trying to maintain his composure.

“A list of complaints against the landlord by his tenants across three buildings, as well as a laundry list of code violations I have gathered that you can pursue,” I said, my voice steady. “He is the one who has wasted both of our times today.” I smiled, knowing that this was a significant leverage point. It was an election year, and I could see how pursuing a slumlord would look much better in the press than a case involving amateur porn.

“Or we can keep fighting this in court and see how I do in front of a jury.” I knew I didn’t want to face a jury trial, but I needed to make it clear that there were consequences for continuing down this path.

“Fine. We will drop all the charges,” the prosecutor said with a sneer, clearly frustrated. He picked up the file I had slid across the table and headed back to his desk, his demeanor indicating he was conceding defeat.

“Good news, your honor. We seem to have made an agreement,” I said, turning back to the judge with a sense of satisfaction.

The prosecutor shot me an annoyed look but didn’t respond. Instead, he began gathering his papers, clearly eager to move on from this case. “Your honor the people will be dismissing all charges and wish to dismiss the case with prejudice.”

“Very well the case is dismissed and the defendant is free to go.” The judge nodded and slammed the gavel. I felt a wave of relief wash over me as I turned to Diana. She looked at me with wide eyes, her tension easing as she realized what this meant for her future.

“Thank you,” Diana said, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around me in a warm hug. The softness of her body against mine felt nice as her bosom pressed against me.

“Of course. Just no more filming until you get a license and do it on private property, not some place you rent,” I replied, squeezing her tightly for a moment longer before letting her go. I grabbed my bag, feeling a mix of satisfaction and lingering tension.

“I think I’m done right now with shooting pornos for the internet,” she said with a playful glint in her eye. “But if you ever need a video for a case, I’m your girl.” Her smile was teasing, hinting at the playful side of her personality that had been overshadowed by the trial.

“I will keep that in mind. Until then I got you a job interview with the local news as a camera operator. It does not pay a lot but it will look good on your resume when that you actually have experience and keep you out of trouble.” I said as I pulled the piece of paper from my inside pocket. It never hurt me to have someone who owed me one in the news station since I had taken this case on pro bono. Mostly just to fuck with the DA's office. I had been helping out taking cases for free while looking at firms I wanted to join. The fact that I was a nobody allowed me to come into cases and use shock and awe tactics and my own evidence to win my first three cases.

“Thank you.” She said as she took the paper and looked it over. “You really think I can get the job?”

“As long as you do not list your previous film experience.” I joked. If she could film the sex scenes, I had seen she could easily film some news reporters talking.

“Yeah lets not do that.” She blushed slightly as she gave me a coy smile. It was weird to see her blush considering what she had been arrested for. She leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for everything Mister Knight.”

“Of course.”

“So now I have to fire you as my lawyer,” she said with a sly smile that hinted at mischief. “Do you want to go out for drinks later with me and the girls?” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as she gave me a playful pinch on the behind, sending a jolt of surprise through me.

“Lets see how my job interview goes at the firm first. If I don't get the job you are buying the first round.” I grinned though I liked my odds at getting the job and if not I had another interview tomorrow.

“Gladly.” Diana’s grin widened wickedly as she stepped even closer, her breasts brushing against my arm. “I’m sure we can find a way to cheer you up.” Her breath hot on my neck as she whispered in my ear neck.

“Last time I heard that was on spring break before law school.” I shook my head.