Chapter 5
Compared to the grandiose neoclassical architecture of the Supreme Court of Victoria further down the street, the Melbourne Magistrates’ Court was modest in appearance both inside and out. Though perhaps less sleek and modern looking than the County Court just across the road, the Magistrates’ Court remained a stalwart beacon on the corner of William and Lonsdale Streets. It was at this court that Erica Davidson was rushing through, hoping to have at least a few minutes to gather her thoughts before the contest mention for a case that, in her opinion, was a complete waste of time.
Why was a senior solicitor dealing with a case in the lowest state court? Certainly there was something more worthy of her talents; a trial in the supreme court with a senior crown prosecutor and a great deal of media attention, maybe? While there was generally at least always one or two of those on her agenda, Erica often found herself taking cases that could easily have been distributed to junior solicitors and advocates in her department. She took them instead, not because she felt that her coworkers were incapable (though they sometimes were), but rather because she liked to stay busy and in control of as many matters within her jurisdiction as possible. It was something of a hangup of hers to keep so much on her plate, as she truly had discovered during her tenure at Wentworth. No one could ever accuse Erica Davidson of not working hard enough – except maybe a certain former inmate who was stewing away at a coffee shop the last metro stop over.
By taking as many of these small cases as she could, it kept her away from home and her attention focused away from her struggling relationship with her perpetual fiancé but, never husband. She would, however, never admit that to herself. Instead, she reasoned that she enjoyed her work and the quicker these smaller, easier matters for the court were taken care of, the more time she and the Office of Public Prosecutions would have for what actually mattered. In her defense, it wasn’t completely untrue. Erica reveled in her half truths and practicing law was full of them. It had made her quite the adapt lawyer, but not always the most honest person with herself and consequently, others.
Franky, meanwhile, was on espresso number three. She raced eagerly through an assignment that was to be due in two weeks. It had been to her surprise that she loved learning so much, especially since she had originally played dumb and not read the material for Erica’s tutoring sessions all that time ago. That method had, though, gotten her much more “focused attention” from what was her favorite prisoner advocate and she had soon found that she enjoyed studying anything she could get her hands on.
Erica had never fallen for Franky’s act of not understanding, though she had certainly and purposely engaged in it. It had been something of a game for the both of them. Erica would coax out Franky’s cleverness and intellect simply through rephrasing a question in a way that she knew her student wouldn’t be able to resist answering. Incidentally, Franky would do the same thing right back, but with difficult questions of a different nature for Erica.
She frowned as her concentration was broken due to a beep from her phone. She looked down to see a text message from Bridget: How’d it go?
It was such a loaded question that she had no intention of answering via text. She didn’t want to lie and text the short answer. So she proceeded to call instead – yet, still to give the short answer. “It went. Are you on break?”
“Not really.” Bridget held her phone to her ear with her shoulder as she was typing. “I have someone coming in in a few minutes but, I wanted to see how you were doing.”
Franky smiled. It was small acts of kindness that always hit her the hardest. “Nothing to talk about but...” She paused for a dramatic effect. “I am now an intern.”
“That’s excellent Franky! We’ll celebrate tonight.” Bridget congratulated through the phone, sounding more like the proud parent that she often seemed to be. “Is this at Legal Aid or where?”
“The OPP.” Franky said. While she had mentioned to Bridget that Erica Davidson had appeared at her initial interview, she neglected to say that it was Erica who she had been intending to meet today. Bridget had been concerned at Erica’s rather sudden reappearance in Franky’s life, not knowing that Franky had wound up using the less infamous former governor as a reference to begin with. Franky wasn’t going to analyze, at least right now, why she would only discuss Erica with Bridget when it was convenient and certain not to lead to another conversation.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright there? I know that after your interview...”
“I probably won’t even see her,” She reassured. “It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up.” The opportunity of working for the Office of Public Prosecutions or the opportunity to interact with Erica Davidson? Why not both? Franky liked her half truths too, it seemed.
“Well, I’m excited for you all the same.” Bridget smiled, though a knock on her door caused her to cut the conversation short. “Gotta’ go – see you later.” The phone disconnected with a short beep.
“See ya’ Gidge.” She said as the phone disconnected, getting back to perusing the lengthy .pdf on “A History of Modern Jurisprudence”. Even Franky had to admit that it was a bit of dry reading, considering its early 1900s publication date.
“If it pleases the court, I would like to suggest that this matter not proceed to trial.” Erica stood and addressed the judge. She turned her attention slightly to the defense team to her left.
“And why is that, Solicitor?”
“Mr. Nakamoto had already violated his parole by traveling outside the state,” Erica began. “There are two assaults on record, this one in particular was out of state. It would be a waste of time to put that to trial immediately given that the defense shouldn’t have left Victoria to begin with.”
“Hey, I was defending myself!” Mister Nakamoto crowed. He was quickly silenced by his attorney and given a stern look from the judge.
“And what does the defense think?” The judge said, trying to sound polite. He was thoroughly displeased with the small outburst from the accused.
“I would be happy to adjourn and discuss an alternative to trial,” The defense attorney sighed. She hoped it wasn’t obvious that she too felt that her client was a complete doofus.
Erica nodded her assent. “While I do believe Mr. Nakamoto should be entitled to discuss his alleged self-defense in a courtroom setting, the fact of the matter is that he shouldn’t have gone to New Castle to begin with and he will still have to deal with the consequences of violating his parole conditions.” She looked towards the defense attorney. “I propose settling the matter of parole violation and we can discuss how to further proceed with the out of state assault charge.”
“Does the defense agree?” The judge said simply. He saw no more reason for this hearing to continue. The case would likely have become needlessly complex if it proceeded any further.
The defense agreed immediately, while Mr. Nakamoto muttered quietly about the miscarriage of justice.
Fortunately, he had no idea what really amounted to the miscarriage of justice, unlike the senior solicitor who had tried to put some of her past machinations and scheming behavior at Wentworth behind her. That being said, she would never call anything she had done as governor to get her way as a “miscarriage of justice”, save one particular incident of Franky Doyle landing in ad-seg for five weeks. She wondered what else of their past they would have to revisit in future conversations.
- - -
Franky didn’t recognize the number flashing on her phone as it rang. As a general rule she tended to ignore numbers she didn’t recognize, but applying for internships meant that there were a handful of unfamiliar phone numbers that she would need to screen through. Her interview at the Office of Public Prosecutions was already a week in the past and she was expecting a call from them.
“Franky?” The voice on the other end sounded familiar but, she couldn’t place it. Maybe it wasn’t the OPP; she had expected them to sound more formal.
“Uh, yeah. Speaking?”
“Franky, it’s Erica Davidson from the Office of Public Prosecutions.” Erica winced as she delivered the formal address of who she was. Of course Franky would know who she was without indicating her place of employment.
Franky snorted into the phone. “Do you say that to everyone you call?” While she wanted to antagonize Erica, she was excited to hear back about her potential internship.
“Often, yes.” She could hear the smile in Erica’s voice. “But, I suppose I should have made an exception for you?” Their last conversation had ended with Franky issuing a stern “fuck you”, and yet, here they were back to teasing. The senior solicitor hoped that Franky remained in a good enough mood.
“As much as I would like to hang up,” Franky began. “I know you wouldn’t have given me such a formal introduction if you didn’t have something on your agenda.” She laughed gently, remembering Erica’s change of demeanor whenever she knew she was being watched by others.
Erica frowned. How Franky could read her like a book, she never knew (or rather she didn’t want to acknowledge that they were really just two sides of the same coin). “This isn’t a social call, correct--”
“I know, you never call,” Franky grinned, interrupting.
Erica ignored her. “I’m calling to inform you about a potential internship with the OPP. I’ve been instructed to speak to you about it and give you some paperwork if you’re interested.” Erica had actually taken it upon herself to make sure that she was the one to talk to Franky again, especially after their last conversation. Virginia had been hesitant to allow her into the domain of hiring interns, but made an exception due to Erica’s senior position and role as reference. Her smooth talking probably hadn’t hurt either.
“I can’t talk now.” Franky admitted, she was on her way to another class.
“This wouldn’t be something to discuss on the phone, anyway. Perhaps we can meet in the next few days?”
“Sure, but not at your office,” Franky said.
Erica remained silent.
“I think we have a bit more to address other than interning, don’t you?”
She could hear Erica audibly exhale over the other end of the line. There was a lengthy pause before Erica spoke again. “That is not the purpose of this meeting.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to pencil in another one.”
Erica silently grumbled as she opened her calendar. “What does your next Wednesday look like? We can discuss the terms of your internship then.”
“Whatever you say, Erica.” chuckled Franky. She then asked for a text of the time and location of their tête-à-tête.