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Authors: Barbara Venkataraman
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your name and address, you're not going to answer any questions. Instead, you will say this: "I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it might incriminate me ."
"What?? Are you kidding? That makes me sound like a criminal and I didn't do anything wrong! Whose side are you on, Jamie?"
"Calm down, Becca. I'm on your side and nobody said you did anything wrong. I spoke with an excellent criminal defense attorney, Susan Doyle, and she advised me to proceed this way. The reason is that anything you say today can be twisted, taken out of context and used against you, and we don't want to give them anything they can use. If they think they have a case against you, let them prove it. Make them go look for evidence. Otherwise, they can go to hell, okay?"
She took a deep breath and let it out. "That makes sense, I guess. I'm sorry I yelled at you, my nerves are shot." She gave me a wan smile and I patted her arm.
Then Becca gave me a puzzled look. "But why not just leave, what's the point of staying but not answering their questions?"
" So we can find out what their game is," I answered. "Just remember, give them no reaction to anything. Got it?"
"Got it."
We drove the short distance to the state attorney's office in silence, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts. I was also mentally preparing myself for a showdown with Nick Dimitropoulos. If Becca stuck to the script, everything would turn out fine, but I didn't trust Nick. Dirty tricks were his specialty, and criminal law definitely wasn't mine.
We were ushered into a drab room where everything was brown, the carpet, the table, the chairs. Even the walls were beige. It looked like a room where hope went to die. We sat down and waited. It was a good fifteen minutes before the prince of snark, himself, strolled into the room.
"Good morning, Ms. Quinn, Mrs. Solomon." He was already starting his head games with Becca.
"Hello, Nick." I said. Becca nodd ed, but said nothing.
"Thank-you for coming in," he said. "I've asked you here to make a statement regarding Joe Solomon's death. Everything you say will be recorded and may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand Mrs. Solomon?"
Becca nodded again.
"You have to answer audibly, for the record."
"Yes," she said. "I understand."
"I see you have chosen to bring counsel with you, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Please state the name of your counsel."
"Jamie Quinn."
"Please state your name and address."
"Rebecca Solomon. 3700 S. 37 th Court, Hollywood Hills, Florida."
"Do you believe your husband committed suicide, Mrs. Solomon?"
"I don't know," she answered. I glared at her and she flinched. She was off script already!
"Do you bel ieve your husband was murdered?"
"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me," she said, as if each word burned her mouth on the way out.
"I nteresting," Nick commented.
"Do you know of anyone wh o might've killed your husband?"
"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me." Becca was very pale and squirming in her seat.
Nick stopped to rifle through his papers, as if he had all the time in the world.
"Did you have any reason to kill your husband?"
"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me."
"Weren't you in the middle of a nasty divorce when your husband died?"
"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me." Tears were flowing down Becca's face.
Nick switched gears.
"Isn't it true you have a prescription for sleeping pills?" he asked.
"I refuse to answer on the ground s that it might incriminate me."
"Are you aware that your husband Joe died of an overdose of alcohol and sleeping pills?"
"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me." Becca was starting to sway unsteadily in her seat.
Nick put his papers down and looked Becca in the eyes. "Do you have any idea how your sleeping pills ended up at Joe's house? In an aspirin bottle?"
Becca let out a shriek before crying
"What?? Are you kidding? That makes me sound like a criminal and I didn't do anything wrong! Whose side are you on, Jamie?"
"Calm down, Becca. I'm on your side and nobody said you did anything wrong. I spoke with an excellent criminal defense attorney, Susan Doyle, and she advised me to proceed this way. The reason is that anything you say today can be twisted, taken out of context and used against you, and we don't want to give them anything they can use. If they think they have a case against you, let them prove it. Make them go look for evidence. Otherwise, they can go to hell, okay?"
She took a deep breath and let it out. "That makes sense, I guess. I'm sorry I yelled at you, my nerves are shot." She gave me a wan smile and I patted her arm.
Then Becca gave me a puzzled look. "But why not just leave, what's the point of staying but not answering their questions?"
" So we can find out what their game is," I answered. "Just remember, give them no reaction to anything. Got it?"
"Got it."
We drove the short distance to the state attorney's office in silence, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts. I was also mentally preparing myself for a showdown with Nick Dimitropoulos. If Becca stuck to the script, everything would turn out fine, but I didn't trust Nick. Dirty tricks were his specialty, and criminal law definitely wasn't mine.
We were ushered into a drab room where everything was brown, the carpet, the table, the chairs. Even the walls were beige. It looked like a room where hope went to die. We sat down and waited. It was a good fifteen minutes before the prince of snark, himself, strolled into the room.
"Good morning, Ms. Quinn, Mrs. Solomon." He was already starting his head games with Becca.
"Hello, Nick." I said. Becca nodd ed, but said nothing.
"Thank-you for coming in," he said. "I've asked you here to make a statement regarding Joe Solomon's death. Everything you say will be recorded and may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand Mrs. Solomon?"
Becca nodded again.
"You have to answer audibly, for the record."
"Yes," she said. "I understand."
"I see you have chosen to bring counsel with you, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Please state the name of your counsel."
"Jamie Quinn."
"Please state your name and address."
"Rebecca Solomon. 3700 S. 37 th Court, Hollywood Hills, Florida."
"Do you believe your husband committed suicide, Mrs. Solomon?"
"I don't know," she answered. I glared at her and she flinched. She was off script already!
"Do you bel ieve your husband was murdered?"
"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me," she said, as if each word burned her mouth on the way out.
"I nteresting," Nick commented.
"Do you know of anyone wh o might've killed your husband?"
"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me." Becca was very pale and squirming in her seat.
Nick stopped to rifle through his papers, as if he had all the time in the world.
"Did you have any reason to kill your husband?"
"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me."
"Weren't you in the middle of a nasty divorce when your husband died?"
"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me." Tears were flowing down Becca's face.
Nick switched gears.
"Isn't it true you have a prescription for sleeping pills?" he asked.
"I refuse to answer on the ground s that it might incriminate me."
"Are you aware that your husband Joe died of an overdose of alcohol and sleeping pills?"
"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me." Becca was starting to sway unsteadily in her seat.
Nick put his papers down and looked Becca in the eyes. "Do you have any idea how your sleeping pills ended up at Joe's house? In an aspirin bottle?"
Becca let out a shriek before crying
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