Community Service by Dusty Miller Read Free Book Online Page A

in
question. At the time of the incident, he was expected to be in his
residence as of ten p.m. and to abstain from drinking or other
forms of intoxication. This especially applies in public places.
However, if officers had knocked on his door to verify his
whereabouts, and detected or had probable cause to suspect the
presence of drugs or alcohol, it would still be an
offence.”
    “ Mister
Wilson.”
    “ One would have thought a
little evidence might have been introduced. I would have liked to
confront my accusers.”
    “ So what happened, Mister
Wilson?”
    “ As I explained at the
time, I was out of work. My landlord changed the locks and piled
all my stuff up on the street. I was trying to salvage something
from the mess, if it please the court, and I really had nowhere
else to go.”
    “ Had you been
drinking?”
    “ I’ll take the fifth on
that one, Your Honour—in the absence of my accusers.” Why would he
ever provide them evidence when they didn’t have any?
    She nodded. Not stupid, which bore out
her previous impressions. He also wasn’t a serious criminal type.
This wasn’t a way of life for him, based on his record, which was
minimal. Some other previous small infraction. That part was
completely boring and so she didn’t dwell on it.
    “ What about these lewd and
lascivious remarks?”
    “ Ma’am?”
    “ What did you say, and to
whom did you say it?” She spoke slowly, enunciating carefully, but
there was no question of his hearing ability.
    He had the grace to blush a
little.
    “ One of the bitches was
undercover, Your Honour.” The impression given was that he was
admitting that he might have said a few things, without caring to
specify further.
    “ And yet you couldn’t pay
the rent.”
    “ I had the money in my
pocket, Your Honour. Two days late, but I had it.”
    There were giggles and chuckles from
the assembled, those awaiting their own trial, loved ones, lawyers,
stragglers, the odd homeless guy in for the roof over their heads
and some entertainment, and others unidentifiable.
    Wilfried spoke up.
    “ I believe he is referring
to Constable Sigmundt, Your Honour, a decorated officer, who was
admittedly dressed as a lady of, er, ill repute…she was acting in
her role as bait, in a roving sting operation conducted
periodically by our local force.”
    Marion bit her lip, listening
carefully to tone and facts.
    “ The constables are in
Courtroom Four speaking on another matter, and are presently
unavailable, Your Honour. But if the defendant wishes, we can have
him bound over until another time. Your Honour, it would be
incumbent upon the defendant, under circumstances such as he
describes, to notify the police and then to attend to the approved homeless shelter, as
directed by police or court services.”
    “ Which I did!” Mister
Wilson had a point, but the prosecutor seemed adamant. “Motion to
dismiss, Your Honour.”
    “ That sort of thing has to
be properly written and presented, Mister Wilson.” God, even
Wilfried was getting into the act, thought Marion.
    Unfortunately, Wilson hadn’t followed
established procedures. On the other hand, it was only
eleven-oh-five. Wilson couldn’t produce an eviction notice, the
only evidence Wilfried was likely to accept.
    She waggled her head, reading the
report again.
    Wilfried was up for reelection, and
wasn’t exactly a shoe-in by media reports and polls.
    The youngster consulted his handy
pocket calendar.
    “… perhaps September
twenty-sixth? Twenty-fifteen?”
    She regarded the defendant
politely.
    “ Sir?”
    “ No le contendre, if it
please the Court.” He looked thoroughly disgusted, defeated by a
system that just didn’t care.
    She nodded, vaguely.
    The system didn’t care, all too
frequently. So why make things worse for yourself? It was an
attitude not unfamiliar to her, and one that always threw the
burden back heavily onto her shoulders. He was running a game on
her, or was he? She had to consider the social