Nina Clarke: ᴍᴀʏᴏʀ, ᴀᴜsᴛɪɴ ᴛx & sʜʏ ʙʟᴏʙ (commonlaw) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2015-12-10 09:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2018 [12] december, james hawkins, nina clarke |
Who: Nina Clarke & Rodeo Hawkins
When: Noon, December 4, 2018, before Rodeo goes to solitary
Where: La Quinta
What: Deja vu, most likely.
EXHIBIT B, HAWKINS PART I The following interview took place in La Quinta Correctional Facility, Austin, Texas, on December 4, 2018 with presiding investigator and prosecutor Nina Clarke. Proceedings observed by Warden Pernell Reason. C.O. ANTHONY BAUMILL: [Leads Hawkins into the room and roughly fastens his cuffs to the floor-mounted chain. He checks the chain's security before he pushes Hawkins down into the seat, eying Clarke with clear distrust.] Ready, Clarke. NINA CLARKE: [Watches Hawkins' treatment without comment before her gaze drops down to her paperwork.] Thank you, Officer. [Waits for Baumill to exit, then speaks again, lifting her eyes to meet Hawkins'. Her voice is steady, if slower than her usual cadence.] My name is Nina Clarke, public defender for the city of Austin, state of Texas. It is 12:02PM on the fourth of December, 2018. We are currently in Interview Room One, in the La Quinta Correctional Facility of Austin, Texas. [She pauses -- or is it a hesitation?] Please be advised that this conversation is being recorded and observed. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. JAMES HAWKINS: I got a right to remain silent, huh? [Laughs, pressing a hand to his ribs. Then, directed towards the one-way mirror:] Y’all coulda fooled me. CLARKE: [The expression that flashes on her face, before she successfully tamps it down, can best be described as long-suffering.] What happened to you? HAWKINS: [Grimacing as he shifts in the metal chair, looking for a comfortable way to sit.] Skiing accident. CLARKE: Maybe the lack of snow hereabouts should've tipped that off as a bad idea. HAWKINS: [A hoarse chuckle.] Yeah, I guess it should’ve. You reckon I could get a cigarette? CLARKE: Not from me. Besides, you know I think you should've kicked that habit a long time ago. HAWKINS: Well, by the looks o’ things I ain’t gonna be around long enough to suffer the consequences of that habit, so if ya would be so kind, tell that Vader-headed motherfucker outside the door to give me a goddamn cigarette. CLARKE: [Dryly.] He can hear you himself, I'm sure. [Still, she looks towards the one-way glass and makes a gesture. There's nothing for a long moment -- and then the door opens.] BAUMILL: [Moves forward, then stops -- just out of reach -- in front of Hawkins. There's a cigarette in his hand.] The dog wants a bone? You gonna do some tricks for us first? HAWKINS: [Smiling cooly.] Come on a little closer, partner. I’ll show ya a real neat trick. BAUMILL: [Hesitation, then a scoff.] Whatever. [Places the cigarette down on the table out of Hawkins’ reach, along with a book of matches.] HAWKINS: [Cheerful, as Baumill leaves the room.] I’ll just show you later then. [A pause, while the door closes.] Do you mind, darlin’? I left my Go-Go-Gadget arms back in my bunk. CLARKE: [One eyebrow arches curiously at Baumill's lack of follow-through, but she leans forward to reach for the things nonetheless.] Lean in. [Places the cigarette between his lips, then strikes a match. It's obvious this isn't the first time the two of them have done this.] Does that suit you, Mr. Hawkins? HAWKINS: [Nodding, lifts a hand to take the cigarette from his lips, chains rattling as he exhales smoke and visibly relaxes.] Yeah. Thank you, mama. [Pauses to take another drag as he eyes the files in front of her.] So how about you tell me what this is all about. Somehow I reckon you ain’t just here for a friendly visit. CLARKE: Mayor Olinger has requested I prosecute your case. [Her voice and expression show little to no sign of any discontent she may feel at the thought.] The general thought seems to be that you're all holding back. Showing a lack of trust in our legal system. It's thought that a familiar face may make you feel more comfortable. HAWKINS: [A long pause. He draws on his cigarette and watches her over it. Finally:] Motherfucker really reckons he knows how to pull my strings, don’t he? Well you can tell him not even this happy reunion he arranged for us is gonna convince me his idea of justice ain’t bullshit. CLARKE: [Does her best to suppress a sigh, but it's evident nonetheless. She'd been expecting something like this; so had the Mayor.] I know. Still, the prevailing theory is that there's a lot that's being withheld. [Pauses, then:] There's also another one that means to suggest that I'm colluding with you. That if confessions aren't extracted, I'm not doing my job well enough. HAWKINS: [Suddenly slams his fist down on the table. He draws in a breath after, straining to stretch out his swollen fingers as he sinks into his chair and grits his teeth.] Jesus Christ. [Leans forward again, intent on Nina across the table.] You know what you can do, mama? You can tell him to take his manipulative fucking extrajudicial punishment bullshit and shove it up his ass. I’m not gonna bow to him, not to save you or me or anyone else. Today he might be punishing a guilty man outside the law, but tomorrow it’ll be an innocent one. If I die in here, it’s only the beginning. CLARKE: [Her jaw clenches; she knows that there's no way out. They won't talk and in time she'll be in jail for failing to earn the confessions Olinger's looking for. There's a flicker of selfishness, rare for her but momentarily present nonetheless, on her face.] I'll make sure he's aware, Mr. Hawkins. HAWKINS: [Sitting back, lifting up his cigarette. He raises his brows.] We done here, then? CLARKE: [A grim smile settles on her features as she shakes her head, wondering if she should add Olinger's intentions for her, whether it's safe to do so on the record. But she knows this may be her only chance, so she adds:] If I fail, I'll be arrested, too. So I may be seeing you behind these bars again. [She shuffles her papers.] Besides that, I suppose we're done. |