Dimples Extras: Part Three
My (likely) final part to BTS stuff for my ResDogs fic Dimples.
Part one was about the original outline. Part two the order of events.
Part three is the cut portion of chapter five: The Trial. From beginning, leading up to the very moment it cuts to the fic proper.
So-
Why cut it?
The chapter felt a little light, initially. Encountered this before, with Dimples, and added the first two chapter/POVs to bulk things out. Thought I could do the same here. Very much got carried away.
The cons: Much of the arguments/dialogue only really work if this were a manslaughter trial, not armed robbery. So, while I feel it's adequate enough, it's not really what the story needs.
The pros: I loved the change to Keats' POV at the beginning. Larry's sass, Pink's vulnerability. The character witnesses? Callbacks to previous events in canon/fanfic? I was really proud of my efforts. Alas, it didn't fit, so it got cut. Gets to live on here, though.
Before the outtake proper, if you're looking for legal true crime drama written by someone who actually knows what they're doing, I highly recommend 'And the Sea Will Tell' by Vincent Bugliosi and Bruce Henderson. Literally the brain rot that took hold and made me think 'I can write that!' No, no I cannot. Very well done and does a great job in humanizing all involved, most importantly the victims. Bugliosi is truly one of the GOATs.
CHAPTER FIVE: The Trial
Their second meeting in as many weeks, and Keats gets down to business, “I imagine the two of you will be pleading not guilty?”
“I mean, it’s the only way this’ll work, right?” Pink asks.
“Mostly because if we plead guilty, that implies we’ve cut a deal.” Larry says.
“Which means we’ll get cut.”
“Okay, that aside, I have a task for you two.” Keats takes a long drag, holds, exhales, “I need you to make me a list, ready by my next visit. I want, need, the both of you to come up with at least ten names apiece.”
Larry’s already gearing up to argue, to which Keats raises a hand, “Not to snitch on, but people you know. People who can vouch for you.”
“Character witnesses?” Pink guesses.
“Exactly.”
“Thought we were paying you to do that for us?” Larry snarks.
“Oh, you want me to be a mind-reader? I’m supposed to just know who you’ve interacted with, who likes you, who doesn’t?” he stubs out his cigarette. He tears two sheets of paper from his notepad, and passes them two pieces of jail-approved crayon, “Parents?”
“Dead.” Larry says. Pink echoes the sentiment.
“Siblings?”
“Dead.” Larry quickly, blandly replies.
“Only child.” Pink starts to sink further into his seat.
“Aunts, uncles, cousins?”
Larry stares at him, as if the answer’s obvious.
“They don’t want nothing to do with me.” Pink grumbles.
“Former employers?”
Larry’s expression remains stony, “I’ve never worked a real job in my life.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Real, legit, respectable. A nine-to-five? Never did those.”
Pink says, “I worked at a movie theatre when I was seventeen. All my coworkers were the same age, just about. A real ‘inmates running the asylum’ kind of thing.”
Keats sighs. It was going to be a long day.
The third meeting, and both of Keats’ clients only manage to gather five names each. He frowns, but it’s better than nothing.
“Will any of these people have something bad to say?” he asks, reading down the first list.
“I mean, maybe.” Pink shrugs.
“When the prosecution does cross-exams, that could come up.” Keats bites back a laugh, “Unless all the good things these picks have to say are really pitiful, doing the prosecution’s job for them.”
“Careful there, Keats, you sound a little too choked up about that.” Larry stares at him.
He lays the papers flat on the metal table, looking first from grumpy-and-sarcastic to grumpy-and-sad, “You do know that you’ll be found guilty? No matter what?”
“I mean, in essence, sure.” Pink nods, arms crossed, “All for show.”
“The jury, unless it’s a particularly dense pool, will find the two of you guilty of armed robbery. The person in that courtroom, the only one that matters, that we need to try and impress, is the judge. Because,” he continues just as both his clients were about to speak, “the judge liking you, sympathizing, being amused or convinced by you will be the difference between ten years and thirty.”
“Do you-” Pink starts, stops, begins again, “Do you expect us to take the stand?”
“Fuck no. That’d be a disaster. That’s why I need character witnesses.”
Silently, Larry motions for his paper to be passed back over. Keats complies, and the other scribbles down a couple more names. Gives it back.
“Thank you.” that’s the first bit of civil cooperation during the whole meeting. He looks to Pink, who for a second appears guilty, like he can’t return the gesture. That’s gone a moment later, replaced with a look of indifference. Keats decides to make things a little lighter, “I expect you to get ten years, at best.” he says to the younger man, “Him?” he gestures to Larry, “Will be lucky if he gets twenty.”
The smirk on Pink’s face is rewarding, and Keats suddenly realizes just why it was so easy for a cop to go to bat for these two idiots.
Finally, trial day arrives. Dressed in cheap suits eerily similar to their heist garb, Larry and Pink are shuffled into the courtroom. Larry spots Freddy, sitting several rows back directly behind the defense’s side. He hates having to look away. They are seated, only to stand as the judge enters. The honorable Patricia Mendez takes her seat. ‘So, this is who we have to impress?’
The District Attorney starts things off, stating just what the county wants done with the two of them, “Our goal here, today, ladies and gentlemen, is to begin the process of proving that the defendants sitting here before you robbed a jewelry store, setting off a chain of events that lead to the biggest tragedy of all.” he gets to that line, lets the implication hang there, and then steps back, “We hope that, by the end of this trial, you will do the right thing, and find these two guilty of armed robbery with intent to endanger and harm.”
Keats gets in front of the courtroom, and says “I will not argue that my clients were part of this robbery.” With that sentence alone, the room erupts with the buzz of conversation, “However, to say that they willfully endangered people? Intended for harm to be done?” Keats shakes his head, as if the very idea were ridiculous, “By the end of this trial, you will see that my clients wanted nothing more than diamonds, and a clean getaway. And how colleagues of theirs, that they didn’t even personally know, turned it into a bloodbath, and how the defendants shouldn’t have to pay for the actions of the dead.”
“What the fuck?” Larry hisses, the sounds of an equally outraged crowd drowning him out.
“Maybe he’s trying to make us relatable?” Pink shrugs, “I mean, I know this is all for show, but I didn’t think he’d throw it like this.”
The order of events is presented by the prosecution. Security footage, though grainy as shit, can only clearly show Blonde- Vega- doing the killing. There’s also plenty of footage of the whole crew, Larry and Pink included, waving guns about. The prosecution plants the idea that everyone knew what kind of loose cannon Vega was. Even now, it makes Larry’s blood boil. That shit was never supposed to go down like that. Vega ruined everything.
Mr. Keats gets up there and plays the reasonable doubt card. You don’t know for certain the others’ guns are loaded. You certainly can’t tell from the footage if the safety’s on or off. Everyone shared weapons, at least six different fingerprints pulled from each. Everyone else was a criminal, but a professional. Vega was unhinged. Ultimately, the goal is to make the jury separate the crew’s intentions from what Vega did spontaneously.
Evidence is next wheeled out. Dozens of guns, recovered mostly from the dead bodies of Pink and White’s crew, are put on display to ask the nonverbal question; if there was never an intention to pull the trigger, why pack so much firepower? On its own separate table is the elusive bag of diamonds. Pink looks at it oddly. “They’ve been dippin’ into our stash.” he whispers.
“What?”
“There’s less diamonds than before.”
Larry isn’t surprised to know the cops are crooked, but is a little interested, “How can you tell?”
“I’m the only one who held them, remember?” He’s talking like it’s a family heirloom that got wrongly wrapped-up in the case, and solely belongs to Pink.
There’s a piece of paper that sits next to the bag of diamonds. The prosecution points to this, explaining it to be a receipt from the diner they ate at, just minutes before doing the heist. The DA reads off every item of food ordered, trying to paint a visceral picture in the minds of the jury, that, even after a big meal, people like this can more than stomach work like that. It’d almost be comical, if decades behind bars weren’t on the line.
The DA picks up a bloodied straight razor with a gloved hand, and starts to explain what Vega used it for, which causes Keats to object, “This piece of evidence had nothing to do with the robbery, or even the jewelry store.”
The prosecutor counters, “It’s establishing the character of the people the defendants worked with.”
The judge allows discussion of the razor, a brief mention of rookie cop Marvin Nash, but clarifies to the jury to disregard it as part of the main charge. Character building only, the judge warns, and that there will be a line that can’t be crossed.
The evidence portion concludes, with a surprising lack of forensic evidence, or lab technicians on the stand, and the first day of the trial comes to an end.
The next day is dedicated to character witnesses, a chance for both sides to humanize/demonize the defendants at length.
First is the waitress from the diner, the day of the robbery. Miss Marlena Lopez takes the stand, as the judge smiles warmly at her.
“What’s that about?” Pink whispers to Keats.
“Eh, judge has got a soft spot for waitresses. It’s how she paid her way through law school.”
Larry looks over in time to see Pink mouth the words ‘fuck me’ before catching himself.
Early twenties, college student, waitress since she was sixteen. Says she saw all these men in suits and thought they must be white collar types, getting ready for a big meeting. Agreed to wait their table, hoping for a big tip from well-off customers. They ate, drank, and talked loudly and crudely for the better part of an hour. By the end, the bill was sizable, and the tip pitiful. Aside from that, they weren’t standouts from their usual customers, and otherwise behaved themselves.
Keats gets up there to see if Ms. Lopez had anything particular to add about his clients, “Just that they thought they were being more slick than they were. The skinny one there tried to justify not tipping me.”
“Oh. Ah-”
“And the old guy went on about how much of an asshole that one was being. Real feminist type. I liked him.” she blushes, looks over to the judge, “Sorry, ma’am.”
“You’re fine.” she gives a warm smile, and just for a moment glances over at Pink.
The retired chief of police from Milwaukee, Wisconsin takes the stand, describing the various offenses on Larry Dimmick’s local rap sheet. Stealing things from an early age, picking fights in school, then at various jobs, then against other criminals. How this wasn’t the first time he’s been charged with armed robbery. Keats, on cross-exam, got out of the retired chief the fact that a lot of charges against Dimmick, of a more serious nature, didn’t stick because of a technicality, and shouldn’t be compared to what he’s currently on trial for.
Pink, with the shorter career, and a knack for fleeing the scene, didn’t have as serious of a witness against him. Who did choose to testify against him, however, was the principal of his old high school, then just a VP. She describes Pink as a youth; a loner, no friends, only ran track and took part in no other extracurricular activities. Was severely bullied for the first half of his freshman year, and then, after winter break, returned to school to not return the favor by fighting, but by offering his bullies access to the test keys for end of year exams. Only to give them fake ones, causing them all to fail, which no one found out about until the next school year.
Next, from the club Joe and company frequented, is the bartender. A younger guy named Justin Andrews. A newer hire, worked at the club for about six months before the Cabots showed up for their latest scheme. Andrews had spotted the crew right away, marking them as trouble, and told his employer. His boss then said not to worry about it, they’re good customers. Justin goes on record saying he never liked the look of any of them, what with talking in hushed tones, staring down strangers that got too close to their table. Larry leans over to Keats, and tells him that is all bullshit, you couldn’t whisper to anybody in a joint like that. They had drinks and a good time, bothered no one. Keats listens and uses just this during cross exam, making Mr. Andrews more than a little flustered.
Another bartender is called, this time from the place only White and Orange visited. A man closer to Larry’s age named Mike Sloan, he testifies to the defendant and another man coming in and minding their own business, when another patron, completely blasted, starts to try and pick a fight. Explains the situation leading up to it, his date for the night getting pissed and throwing her drink at him, and the man proceeding to make everyone else very uncomfortable. How Larry tried to verbally calm things down, and that his companion engaged the drunk patron in a fight. That by the time the two left, the instigator on the ground, a pocket knife was found laying next to him, and that it in fact belonged to said drunkard. Keats uses this to show that his client (at least one) was not prone to violence, even in the face of having a weapon drawn on him. That Larry even tried de-escalation. Pink looks over at Larry, a little surprised, himself.
It being late in the day, the judge declares that the court reconvene tomorrow, where witness testimony proper will begin.
Day three starts off with a bang; a survivor of the jewelry store, an employee who hid in the manager’s office.
Sheryll Pryor is middle-aged, shy, timid. She recalls hearing a man declare that everyone needed to get down on the ground, that a robbery was taking place. She locked and barricaded the office door, and could see nothing. Just heard sirens, then shooting. “Is that exactly as it happened?” Keats asks, and she confirms it once more.
Testimony of a survivor, one that refused to appear in court, is read aloud by the DA. That one of the deceased, Vic Vega, began shooting at the employees, the customers. Keats crosses this, asking if the witness mentioned anything about hearing sirens. The prosecution says no.
Keats calls Pryor back to the stand, to ask how long she worked at the store. Five years is her reply. In that time, had she ever experienced hearing something clearly in the manager’s office, only for people in the main store to be unawares? Yes, frequently, is her answer.
In the way of law enforcement, few are called to testify. Before the first day of trial, Keats explained to his clients why this would be the case; the LAPD knows there’s something off about their own accounts, and doesn’t want to draw too much attention to it, such as the lack of concern over the disappearance of Officer Nash, or the slow response time to the warehouse as soon as Joe Cabot entered the building. Things of this nature would be embarrassing, should it come up. Only the most necessary or experienced would be allowed to testify, for the sake of minimizing the damage.
One such person is a Detective Thompson, lead on the case. He describes arriving on the scene, apprehending one of the defendants who carried the bag of stolen diamonds. Next, of entering the warehouse, and seeing all of the bodies strewn about. Of the other defendant holding an undercover agent hostage, threatening to shoot. How, despite warnings, he still pulled the trigger.
For the first time in several moments, Larry remembers to breathe. It feels like hours, but Thompson finally leaves the stand. As he passes, the detective gives Larry and Pink, but mostly Larry, the tiniest of smirks. Larry feels cold sweat break out along his back.
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Birthdays 3.3
Beer Birthdays
Jay R. Brooks (1959)
James Ottolini (1969)
Jeff Cioletti (1972)
Five Favorite Birthdays
Julie Bowen; actor (1970)
James Doohan; actor (1920)
Jean Harlow; actor (1911)
Miranda Richardson; actor (1958)
Ronald Searle; illustrator (1920)
Famous Birthdays
Diana Barrymore; actress (1921)
Alexander Graham Bell; inventor (1847)
Edna Best; British stage and film actress (1900)
Jessica Biel; actor (1982)
William James Blacklock; English-Scottish painter (1816)
Margaret Bonds; pianist and composer (1913)
Larry Burkett; author and radio host (1939)
Cyril Burt; English psychologist and geneticist (1883)
Georg Cantor; Russian-German mathematician and philosopher (1845)
Emile-Auguste Chartier; French writer and philosopher (1868)
Paul Clayton; folk singer (1931)
Brian Cox; English keyboard player and physicist (1968)
Ruby Dandridge; African-American film and radio actress (1902)
Gustave de Molinari; Dutch-Belgian economist and theorist (1819)
Bonnie J. Dunbar; engineer and astronaut (1949)
Perry Ellis; fashion designer (1940)
David Faustino; actor (1974)
Tyler Florence; chef and author (1971)
Ragnar Frisch; Norwegian economist (1895)
Ira Glass; radio host (1959)
William Godwin; English writer (1756)
Laura Harring; Mexican-American model and actress (1964)
Robyn Hitchcock; pop singer (1953)
Thom Hoffman; Dutch actor and photographer (1957)
Asger Jorn; Danish painter and sculptor (1914)
Jackie Joyner-Kersee; track athlete (1962)
Tim Kazurinsky; actor, comedian (1950)
Ronan Keating; Irish singer-songwriter and actor (1977)
Arthur Kornberg; biochemist (1918)
Artur Lundkvist; Swedish poet (1906)
James Merrill; poet and playwright (1926)
George Miller; Australian film director (1945)
Sameera Moussa; Egyptian physicist (1917)
John Murray; Canadian scientist (1841)
Thomas Otway; English writer (1652)
Mike Pender; English singer-songwriter and guitarist (1941)
Charles Ponzi; Italian criminal, "Ponzi scheme" (1882)
George Pullman; train car inventor (1831)
Anri Sakaguchi; Japanese actress (1991)
Clifton Snider; author and poet (1947)
Harold J. Stone; actor (1913)
Tone-Loc; rapper (1966)
Buddy Valastro; chef and tv host (1977)
Herschel Walker; football RB (1962)
Edmund Waller; English poet, writer (1606)
Michael Walzer; philosopher (1935)
Jennifer Warnes; singer-songwriter (1947)
Doc Watson; bluegrass singer-songwriter and musician (1923)
Snowy White; English guitarist (1948)
Darnell Williams; English-American actor (1955)
Hattie Winston; actress (1945)
Beatrice Wood; illustrator and potter (1893)
Victoria Zdrok; model (1973)
Ona Zee; porn actor (1954)
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