They don’t put me in an interrogation room. Instead they escort me to the drunk tank full of other people who’ve made similar fuck-ups tonight.
I find a small piece of real estate I can call my own, a piece of bench between one guy already passed out and another guy on his way to passing out. I take my jacket off and ball it up so I can lie down and rest it behind my head. I’ve never been in jail before — not one I couldn’t freely leave at any time — and even this is only a waiting room for the real thing. The smell is overpowering and the moans coming from the other drunks irritating. The floor is covered in piss and the toilet looks about as bad as toilets can possibly get. The cream cinderblock walls spread a chill into the room. I wonder which side of things luck would fall on now.
I stay awake all night. Occasionally our numbers go up, and in the end we all make it through to the morning. As they lead me from the cell I think about Bridget and Emily and what they would think of me now. I remember having the same thought yesterday.
I’m led through to the same interrogation room I sat in yesterday. Everybody looks at me on the way. Yesterday it was with pity. Today it’s contempt.
chapter thirty-one
‘Driving under the influence. Reckless driving. Jesus, you’re in some real trouble,’ Landry says. He’s wearing the same clothes as last night. They’re all wrinkled up, which means he probably slept in them. He looks even more tired than the last time I saw him.
‘How’s the girl?’
‘Stable.’
‘Is she going to make it?’
‘Maybe you should have been concerned with other people’s safety before getting behind the wheel drunk.’
‘Is she going to make it?’
“I don’t know. Probably’
‘Probably? Don’t you care?’
‘I care, you son of a bitch.’ Landry bangs his fist down on the table. ‘I’m the only one in this room who does, and what you did last night proves that.’
I look away.
‘What in the hell were you doing?’ he asks.
‘Nothing.’
‘You’re doing nothing at that time in the morning? Come on, Tate. You were at the church again.’
“No, I wasn’t.’
‘In fact you were. I saw you there. Lots of people did See it was on TV That reporter of yours showed it. She did a great job of it, showing you right outside the church breaking your protection order.’
“I was getting my car.’
‘You were breaking the law.’
‘Come on, Landry, you could probably see me climbing into the damn thing. And I left straight away’
‘Then what? You go back a few hours later and decide to watch Father Julian? What’s the big plan here, Tate? Are you that desperate to kill yourself?’
I wonder if Father Julian heard the crash. I wonder if he looked in his rear-view mirror and decided he had more important things to take care of.
‘What’s going to happen now?’
‘Two things. We’re going to talk to Father Julian. We’re going to ask him if you were there last night, and if he says you were, you know what happens: we’re going to take his word for it.
We’re going to ask him once and let him think about it, and if he says yes we’re not even going to ask him if he’s sure about it. You get my point?’
“I get it.’
‘But first you’re going to be charged with DUI. You’ll be escorted down to court later this morning. I’m going to do you a favour and let you wait here rather than back down in the cells. But it’s the last favour I’m ever going to do for you.’
He leaves me alone. I rest my head in my arms and manage to get two hours sleep before the same two guys who brought me upstairs take me out to a patrol car and drive me to the courts. The day is wet and cold and grey. I’m kept in the holding cells with a whole bunch of people whose futures are about to be determined by the same people about to determine mine. My headache hurts and so do the wounds. I’m given a court-appointed lawyer and We get to speak for about two minutes before my arraignment.
In court I stand in the dock with my head down and listen to
the charges. I plead guilty. I know how it all works. This is the same thing that happened to Quentin James. The judge sets bail and says that if it can’t be paid they will hold me until sentencing, which is set for six weeks away. I can’t pay the bail. I’m taken back to the cells, the plan being that sometime in the middle of the afternoon I’ll be transferred to prison. Christ I need a drink.
I don’t know how much time passes before one of the court security officers opens up the holding cell and tells me to follow him.
‘Your bail’s been made.’
‘Made? Who by?’
‘Your lawyer.’
‘I don’t even know my lawyer.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s not the same guy’ he says, shrugging. ‘You got a new lawyer now. Means you might have a chance at a real legal defence.’