The Kings Of Cool

55

“How bad can it get?” Ben asks.

“Bad,” the lawyer answers. “You’re looking at maybe twelve grand in fines and up to six years in the state pen.”

“Six years?”

“Three on the dope,” the lawyer explains, “one on the 148, maybe two more on the 243.”

“ He assaulted me.”

“Your word against his,” the lawyer says, “and in a drug case, the jury will go with the cop.”

“Come on,” Ben says. “You should get this whole thing thrown out. He had no probable cause, no reason to search my car, he planted the fucking dope-”

“It had your prints on it,” the lawyer says.

“He pressed it into my hand!”

“Unless we can get a few Mexicans or blacks on the jury, you’re fucked,” the lawyer says. “My advice is to plead it out-I’ll get them to drop the battery because Boland didn’t seek medical attention, can probably get you probation on the resisting charge, you get three for the grass, serve a year.”

“No fucking way,” Ben says.

The lawyer shrugs. “You don’t want to take this in front of an Orange County jury.”

Mostly retirees and government workers (because they can get out of their jobs) who are going to hate Ben for being young and arrogant.

“I’m pleading not guilty.”

“I have to advise you-”

“Plead me not guilty.”

So Ben spends a long, sleepless night in jail, gets arraigned in the morning, pleads not guilty, and gets remanded for $25,000 in bail.