blog 11 draft 2

Justice

By: Stephen Mesa

When they showed up at my house they asked me if I knew what they were there for. A trick cops always try to play when they pull you over or interrogate you, they try to get you to admit what you did wrong and incriminate yourself because they actually know little to nothing. But I know better than that. I’m smarter than them. So I said no. Though I actually knew exactly why they were there, but the thing is I didn’t know how much they actually knew, and I wasn’t about to tell them anymore.

“We just want to ask you some questions about your phone… how bout’ you come down to the police station with us and we’ll talk.”

You see about a week earlier I had dropped my phone at the bar that I worked at by accident and I must not have noticed. But an off duty cop, who spent the majority of his time off at this very bar drinking and stuffing his fat face to oblivion, certainly did and he picked it up. I spent the rest of my shift searching the bar for my phone. I made an announcement over the P.A. that it was missing, and asked everyone at the bar if they had seen a phone, including him. But instead of doing what any decent human being would do and returning the lost property to rightful owner he decided to open it up and look through my pictures, without a warrant might I add, which is total illegal search and seizure since he is a cop and even if he wasn’t it would still be a total invasion of my privacy, and that is when he discovered several pictures of graffiti so that’s when he decided to turn my phone off, because I was calling it, of course, to try and find it, and then get his fat drunk ass in his car and drive it over to the police station to brag to the other boys about what he had stolen/ “found.” I’m sure he tried to justify his actions in his own mind by telling himself that I am a criminal and a scumbag and I deserve to be prosecuted but if you ask me he is the criminal for blatantly steeling my phone. I’m sure in his mind he though he was bringing me to justice. But what is justice? Some define it as fairness, and I don’t think that situation was very fair at all. In fact I think it was pretty fucked.

“Before you guys ask me any questions shouldn’t I have a lawyer present?” I didn’t wanna answer any questions or tell them anything and I knew my rights and I certainly wasn’t going to. “And also can I have my phone back? I’m pretty sure you guys aren’t allowed to just take my phone like that. I’m going to call a lawyer and find out and get it back.” Were all things that I told them.

It was at this point they got really aggravated and went from pretending to be nice guys to the assholes that they really are because I wasn’t cooperating with them. “Oh you wanna be a wise guy, huh? You wanna play hardball? We can play hardball too. Fine go get a lawyer and well get a search warrant for your phone your house and your car and were officially opening up an investigation on you. I’m sure we’ll see you very soon.” Were all things that they said. They were like little children who weren’t getting what they wanted and weren’t used to it. Getting angry and stomping their feet, trying to yell and force me into getting their way. But they weren’t going to and they never did. I never talked. I never even gave them the chance to ask me any questions. I knew better than to incriminate myself or anybody else. I knew my rights. I was smarter than your average criminal.

So they went through my phone, without a warrant once again might I add, because at this point they both told me they had gone through my phone and seen the pictures and then after that they told me they were gonna get a warrant to go through it. Self contradicting morons, cops always do that because they lie in order to try and get to the truth and don’t realize that they make themselves look like idiots to the people who actually know what going on. So anyway they went through my phone and questioned my friends, or at least the people that I thought were my friends at the time. But not before I got in contact with them and told them what was going down. Not only did I tell them the cops stole my phone, and came to my house and tried to coerce me into talking about the pictures of graffiti on it, most of which were done by them and I but I also gave them advice on how to handle it when the cops came and questioned them, because I knew they would. I told my friends not to talk to the cops and that they didn’t have to. They didn’t have to tell them anything besides their names without having a lawyer present. Just decline to be interviewed I told them and don’t listen to them when they say they know things because they don’t. Just keep your mouth shut and if you tell them anything tell them to go away. But of course they didn’t listen. They let the cops intimidate them. They weren’t as smart as me. They didn’t know the law the like I did. And they didn’t have the stones that I did. They just gave in and talked to the police like the stupid spineless cowards that they are.

The first person they interviewed was my friend Dan. I don’t know exactly what they said but I know he was in the interrogation room for three hours. He told me that he didn’t tell them anything but I know that you do not sit there for three hours in silence. He told me that they brought him to the point of tears; I know that one does not get that emotionally worked up without saying something. Though he says he didn’t rat on me and I don’t know whether I believe it or not he still told them too much. He said that he told them he knew I was into graffiti and painted sometimes at art shows but didn’t know if I did it on the streets or not, which was still too much information to be giving out because at that point they didn’t even know I painted, they just knew I had pictures of it on my phone and wanted to find out why. So after Dan opened up his big mouth and dropped other people’s names they had their leads to go upon.

And they did. They person they interrogated was his friend, I say his friend because he was not mine. I never really liked the kid for several reasons, mostly because they were starting to replace me with him in the crew and I really just didn’t like his personality at all. Anyway this kid was a graffiti writer who used to write “meows” don’t ask me why but he always had this queer obsession with cats. He swears that he never told them anything but the police report says one of my friends ratted on us and chose to remain anonymous so it was either him or Dan and all I know is that after him they didn’t further question anybody else, probably because they got what they needed.

They came and got one day after I was leaving band practice with the very same kids I just spoke of. They pulled me over for no good reason and said there was a warrant out for my arrest. Cuffed me, impounded my car, and took me to the police station. They never read me my rights, guess they figured I already knew them.

When at the police station they laid out 27 documents on a table in front of me. “Do you know what those are?” they asked rhetorically. “Those are the charges you’re facing, all 27 of them.” They smiled smugly as they told me and were even more elated it seemed to tell me the amount of my bail, 27,000 dollars, a thousand for each account. “Are you sure you still don’t want to talk” they asked me. I guess trying to scare me with all these big numbers, they were trying to make some sort of deal with me but I wasn’t scared, and I still wasn’t going to incriminate myself or my friends and I certainly wasn’t going to make any deals with no cops.

And that’s when they told me the best news. “Did you tell him the best news of all yet?” I remember one pompous officer asking the other. See cops have a way of trying to belittle you when you get arrested, I don’t know if it’s to try and make you feel worse or to make themselves feel better, probably both. But the news was that they had also arrested my friend Mike earlier that day, he was running around writing cryptic phrases that began with the word “because” so that became what they referred to him as. He was the big fish that they were really trying to catch because his graffiti was just unsightly, anti social and causing quite a stir in their quiet little suburban town. “Do you know anything about him?” they asked me. I don’t know if you noticed but there aren’t a lot of quotes from me in this story, that is because I mostly jut shook my head so as to say no the whole time because I didn’t even want to speak a word to these cops because who knows how they could take them and turn them around on me in court.

They booked me and brought me to Middlesex County Jail, all the while teasing me about how I was going to get raped. I don’t know if they are allowed to do that but it doesn’t seem very fair to me. I spent the night in a cell no bigger than a closet with two other men. They occupied the bunk beds so I slept on the floor, the cold hard concrete floor. Other than the bunk beds in the room there was nothing but a toilet. No clock, no calendar, no television, no windows, no phone, no pencil and paper. Nothing to do except sit around and wonder what time it was, or what day it was or what everyone you loved is doing outside of this cell. It was mental torture. Thankfully my parents came and bailed me out in the morning before I had to spend 23 out of 24 hours a day in that cell as they do. I honestly don’t know how they pass the time in there but it was enough for me to know that I never wanna go back to find out.

It was after this that I got a lawyer, a very expensive, reputable one at that. Maybe too high class for this case as I look back on it now, at the time I thought it was a good idea to get a high priced lawyer because I thought that the more you pay the better they are but I soon learned that that was not the case at all. My lawyer had better things to do than worry about this petty little graffiti case. I wanted to fight it; he did not by any means. All he wanted to do was settle for a plea bargain although the whole entire way they went about arresting me was terribly wrong. I told him about the illegal search and seizure of my phone and all he kept saying was that it was their word against mine and its best that I just don’t try and fight it because I will not win. But it was not my job to fight it, it was his and he just did not want to do it. I was really frustrated by this because up until a day or two before the trial it seemed like there was very little or no real evidence against me. For the longest time all I knew they had was a phone with pictures of graffiti and I still didn’t understand how they were able to arrest me for that. But before the trial they have to give your lawyer something that is called a “discovery” which is all the evidence they have against you so that the lawyer can prepare your defense. It was in this discovery that I found out the devastating news. My friend Mike ratted on me. He had been my friend since 5 yrs old. We used to play soccer together, we grew up skateboarding together, and we were in a band together. The was like a brother to me and what’s even worse on top of all that is I could have easily ratted on him to save my own tail because he was the one that they really wanted but I didn’t because I am loyal to my friends and I would rather spend the rest of my life in jail than be known as a rat.

In when it came to trial he didn’t even end up saving his own tail. He admitted that he did graffiti and that was the “because” artist and that I was “meds” and because of his cooperation he really didn’t get off any easier than I did. We both got the same charges and fines when we went to court and they only difference is he didn’t have to spend that night in jail and make bail because of that deal he cut with the police. So that’s what he got, he saved 2700 in bail money but he lost a friend, a truly loyal friend which you can’t put a price on. And since he was the one who was disloyal to his friend and went and was a tattle tale he is the one that doesn’t have to go to jail; while I, the one who is a loyal good friend and an overall dignified person who knows that you just don’t go and rat people out, gets punished for it. I don’t think that’s very fair. I don’t this that’s very just.

So in the end I’m sure that everyone thinks that justice was served. I’m sure that cop thinks that stealing my phone and turning it in was the right thing to do. I’m sure that Mike somehow tries to justify snitching on me in his head by saying that he just couldn’t go to jail or he just couldn’t afford that money, which is what the apology letter he wrote to me said. And I’m sure that my lawyer thinks that justice was served because I actually did the crime and I was convicted of it and he got his money and everyone was happy, though I still don’t think that another criminals word saying that I did it too should really be grounds enough to hold up in court and I’m aware of other cases where other people have beaten similar circumstances but hey I guess I got what I deserved but I still haven’t seen these other criminals and crooks get what they deserve and I fail to see the justice in that.