Chapter Ten #2
“No, Your Honor. Mr. Dover’s injuries were sustained during an altercation at the detention facility last evening. He was evaluated and treated at Renown Regional Medical Center for a fractured rib and other non-life-threatening injuries.”
“I see,” Judge Mitchell replies calmly, jotting down a brief note before turning his attention to the prosecution.
“Counsel, please summarize the charges you bring before the court.”
The district attorney stands, approaching the podium with a strange hint of arrogance and pride.
“Your Honor, the State contends that this incident represents a continuation of the defendant’s troubling pattern of conduct.
Mr. Dover’s record reflects numerous prior offenses, including vehicle theft, and repeated institutional involvement beginning in his adolescence.
” The guy sounds like a robot. I bet he spent all night staring at a mirror preparing his lawyer jargon for today.
“I’m aware of the defendant’s history,” Judge Mitchell states dryly. “Proceed.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” The prosecutor nods, fumbling with his paperwork nervously.
“On the evening of February twelfth, the defendant engaged in a violent physical assault at Haven’s Hell Nightclub.
Witnesses state that Mr. Dover repeatedly struck my client, Mr. Underwood, causing significant facial injuries and substantial cognitive impairment. ”
Significant? That’s being generous. I barely touched the guy.
“The victim required immediate medical attention. Diagnostic imaging revealed a fractured orbital bone. Additionally, responding officers reported that Mr. Dover continued the attack despite multiple attempts by staff at the nightclub to intervene.”
My jaw tightens
Continued the attack? That’s fucking bullshit. Is he trying to pin resisting arrest on me?
“Witnesses state that even when security attempted to defuse the situation, Mr. Dover resisted them and tried to flee the scene.”
“I didn’t resist arrest!” I blurt out, unable to hold my tongue.
My attorney immediately tenses beside me.
Judge Mitchell’s hardened gaze snaps my way, pinning me in place. “Mr. Dover, you will address the court only through counsel, unless otherwise instructed.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” my lawyer says quickly, rising again. “If I may clarify?”
The judge nods, but he doesn’t look pleased.
“The defense is not disputing that an altercation occurred. However, the State’s interpretation of the victim’s medical condition is being vastly overstated.
” He steps forward. “Hospital records indicate that while Mr. Underwood sustained injuries, they were not life-threatening nor permanent, and any reported cognitive impairment was temporary.” He hands documents to the bailiff.
“Furthermore, Mr. Dover did not resist arrest. Once officers separated him from Mr. Underwood, my client was compliant.”
Judge Mitchell reviews the paperwork in silence.
“According to the arresting officer’s report,” Judge Mitchell exclaims, “it took multiple individuals to restrain Mr. Dover.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” my attorney replies. “During the altercation itself, but not after.”
Judge Mitchell strokes his mustache. “Mr. Dover, it states that you’ve had some formal training in boxing and martial arts? Is that correct?”
Here we go.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
The judge nods once. “Then it’s important the court considers the severity of force used during the altercation, given your documented training.”
My stomach knots deep in my belly.
The opposing counsel jumps in, his smug smile spreading across his pompous ass face.
“Your Honor, in light of this new information regarding the defendant’s formalized training in martial arts, the State requests that the manner of force used during the altercation be considered excessive, and we ask the Court to recognize the defendant’s hands as deadly weapons for the purpose of charge evaluation and sentencing, and request that a charge of attempted murder be added. ”
The judge leans back slightly, studying me.
My attorney immediately speaks. “Your Honor, I’d like to submit sworn statements from witnesses of the altercation that indicate that Mr. Dover’s actions were triggered by an apparent threat involving a third party.
My client was simply defending a female friend who was being harassed by Mr. Rodriguez’s client, Mr. Underwood. ”
Finally! The truth is coming out.
Judge Mitchell looks over the statements and nods, folding his hands in front of him.
“Upon presentation of this evidence, the Court does not find sufficient evidence at this time to sustain the charge of attempted murder.”
Relief almost knocks me over.
“But, Your Honor…” the DA challenges. “You can’t overlook Mr. Dover’s prior criminal history and formalized training in hand-to-hand combat. My client’s injuries were serious and wouldn’t have been as severe if the defendant hadn’t been trained in martial arts and boxing from a small age.”
Judge Mitchell holds up a cautious hand.
“Mr. Rodriguez, while the defendant’s history of hand-to-hand training is more advanced than most people, and the injuries sustained by Mr. Underwood are unquestionably serious,” the judge goes on, “Your evidence doesn’t support the charge of attempted murder you bring before the court. Nothing was premeditated in my eyes.”
The district attorney’s jaw tightens, but he remains silent.
“However,” Judge Mitchell adds, his voice a bit firmer. “The Court requests further consideration of the charge of aggravated assault.”
My stomach bottoms out all over again.
My attorney rises carefully beside me. “Your Honor, the defense respectfully requests that the charge of aggravated assault be removed as well. While the evidence, including all medical documentation submitted by the State, does show significant damage to Mr. Underwood, it does not support any evidence that Mr. Dover acted with lethal intent.” He pauses deliberately.
“At most, the facts suggest that this was merely an altercation between two intoxicated individuals that got out of hand.”
The prosecutor immediately steps forward.
“Your Honor, the State strongly disagrees with the opposing council’s interpretation of the night’s events.”
Of course, he would.
“Mr. Dover reacted aggressively, the abuse was prolonged, and resulted in devastating physical trauma to my client. Regardless of whether the court declines to pursue attempted murder, the severity of the attack cannot be overlooked.” He adjusts the papers before him and then his tie before clearing his throat.
“The State intends to proceed with the charges of aggravated assault and requests the charges of intent to maim and attempt to cause bodily injury be added as well.”
My lawyer doesn’t miss a beat.
“Your Honor, the defense argues that my client’s record reflects no history of prior physical altercations.
There is no evidence of premeditation and Mr. Dover did not exhibit any indication that he reacted with homicidal intent.
If the court wants to pursue enhanced charges, we request that the Court focus on the charge of intent to cause bodily injury rather than intent to maim or attempted murder. ”
Judge Mitchell considers all the evidence carefully.
“As I said earlier, there is no evidence supporting any charges relating to attempted murder,” he says at last. “That charge has been dismissed.”
Dismissed? Maybe I’ll get out of this after all?
But the judge isn’t finished.
“Nevertheless,” he continues, “the extent of Mr. Underwood’s injuries, combined with the defendant’s prior criminal history and his specialized training in hand-to-hand combat, presents a significant concern for this court.”
Here it comes… my fate.
“As such, I find the evidence does support the charge of aggravated assault to be valid, and the defendant shall be charged accordingly. The charges of intent to maim or cause bodily harm, have yet to be determined.”
The prosecutor straightens immediately.
“Your Honor, given the defendant’s record and the violent nature of the offence, the State will be seeking a significant custodial sentence.”
No surprise there.
“We believe a substantial period of incarceration is necessary.” He glances briefly in my direction.
“The State will be recommending a term of imprisonment of five years, with Mr. Dover serving no less than three years before the possibility of parole. We respectfully request that the defendant be held without release pending sentencing. The State argues that the defendant’s prior record demonstrates a pattern of criminal activity that could make him an incredible flight risk. ”
Five years? No bail? My chest constricts even more. I’m fucked.
Judge Mitchell nods in agreement. “We will take the State’s recommendation for sentencing into consideration. Mr. Dover, sentencing is hereby scheduled for three weeks from today. The defendant will remain in custody pending that hearing.”
Three weeks?
Three weeks to sit in a cell rotting away.
“This court will reconvene at that time.”
The gavel hits his podium with too much finality.
“Next case.”
Mr. Handler picks up his things before turning to me. “That could’ve gone a lot worse, Wesley. You’re lucky he dropped the attempted murder charge. You would’ve been looking at life for that one if Judge Mitchell wanted.”
He shakes my hand. “I’ll be seeing you in three weeks.”
The bailiff comes over to escort me back to Parr.
I take the opportunity to steal a glance over at where my dad was sitting, but he’s not there anymore; he’s gone, and yet his disappointment still lingers.
They tell me I’ve got visitors.
For a second, I think the guard’s screwing with me. My body aches too much for jokes; my ribs throbbing with every breath I take. I can barely see out of my right eye; it’s nearly swollen shut.