You know it's going to be a rough day in court when the prosecutor introduces a letter your client has written to the buddy he confessed to asking that person to lie:
We were chilling [at Pelletier's house] drinking. After a while we saw Amy [sic] walking her dog up the street. I called her over to us. The dog left. I asked her if I could fuck. She said OK. So I fucked it, while you keep drinking. . . . Any side question they ask say I don't know I was drunk. When I finished fucking, Amy [sic] asked for some beer. . . . She left about 7:30. If they ask how we know, you had a watch on. We chilled and drank till 8:30. You made a phone call for a ride. About 9:00 you left and went home or wherever. I'm fine after that. You got to memorize this shit. I need you bad on this. . . . I walk away from this two ways! A dead man or a rich man. I wanna be rich! When this is in your head till it hurts, burn this letter!Ouch. Some people just don't seem to understand that the guards at the jail can read.
Pelletier v. Commonwealth. Va.App 2004
No comments:
Post a Comment