Criminal logo

A Brush with Criminal Law and Privilege

While there was a lot out of my control during this period, there were some things that only I could hold the responsibility for

By The Passionate AutisticPublished 3 years ago 20 min read
1
Even while getting in trouble, I was calling people out

The year was 2010 and I'd long felt like I'd lost everything. High school had become enough of a conspiracy, that I couldn't even trust my friends. Everyone was talking behind everyone's back. Milli was my best friend at the time, but I couldn't tell where his motives really lay.

I moved back in with G-Ma while Milli and I looked for a place in the city. We were both broke but would often hang out, smoke pot, and listen to music. One night talking about how broke we were, he jokingly suggested we rob a bank.

By Etienne Martin on Unsplash

The gears began turning in my brain. Most people couldn't tell when I was serious or not. Quite like any comedian, my jokes simply came from what I knew. Like the one in high school about me losing my mind. I guess I wasn't too far off par. "Or we could rob the local convenience store..."

I'd worked there early on in my nightmare and held a grudge for my treatment during employment. Like most places, I'd be putting in twice the work, while receiving twice the flak. Milli laughed a bunch, "That would be funny. Could you imagine her face?" I walked him through the plan already forming in my brain, "You're being serious..." he said smiling.

"Yeah man, like, what have I got to lose at this point?" I stated while he suggested jail time, "My biggest offence was an unregistered vehicle," I said not knowing anything about criminal records.

He started in the plan, but I only got worried closer to execution. He was in a long-term relationship with someone who worked at the store. I had faith in my ability, even to not get caught, but I couldn't be sure how he'd buckle under the pressure. Could he keep his mouth shut? I doubted it as his paranoia only increased while my heist formed.

I planned out an Ocean 11 style heist, a weird boy having learned life through television, not understanding people or having constant ones to grow with. I'd stopped and scoped out the inside during the day. Coolers lined the north wall. A back door to the east and a front door to the west. Counter with tills in one corner, above it contained cigarettes that were never locked up. On the roof appeared to be makeshift ducting. The first section was metal with a wooden enclosure on the end. I wondered where that led from.

By Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash

I planned the heist for the work week, hoping for less night owls to deal with. I prepared a briefcase with various tools. I worked on a disguise; multiple layers of black to add thickness to my tiny frame, dish towels wrapped up and taped to my chest for the appearance of boobs, a mask, hat, and gloves. I even wore a watch, although I hated the restricting feeling.

The first night of the heist, I brought the tools and scoped the outside of the building. Only one camera at the back to worry about, if it even worked. I felt the building, concrete. I took a drill out and tested the wall. Tunneling in wasn't going to be an effective method. The doors were made of metal, but I didn't have a welder handy.

I noticed a fenced up area on the north side of the building, where the coolers were located inside. Climbing over, I noticed a previously existing window that was boarded up. I figured they'd filled the inside, but I pried the board away and it was hollow.

Four hours had passed and it neared 4AM. I wasn't going to get it done that night, so I put the board back up, packed up and headed home. I'd stick to the alleys and stay out of sight, remaining a shadow of the night.

I hung out with Milli the following evening and said that we should chill tomorrow too, I might have a surprise for me. He inquired on it, "It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?"

By krakenimages on Unsplash

Two nights in a row I'd headed to bed at 10:30 and G-Ma joked about it. But the earlier I went to bed, the earlier she would too. When she did, I waited another hour.

I wouldn't have to worry about the camera's approaching from the side. I went back with my tools and pried the boards off from outside. It was still loud in the quiet of the night, so I took a small break before destroying the boards inside. There wasn't much leverage with how close they were to the coolers, so my only option was to mangle them. Now I just needed a disguise, and a ladder to get up.

I stealthily made two trips back and forth. First with a white plastic patio chair since I couldn't find a ladder. The second time I filled the briefcase with tools, my disguise, and some garbage bags. I got dressed at the store, and by the time I was ready to make my way in, the faint glow of morning light brushed the horizon. I began my climb. No turning back now.

I shimmied my skinny body up, using the tightness to wiggle my way towards the inner roof. I got up and checked to make sure I had everything. I'd only lost a boob in the shuffle, the least of my worries at this point. I was now in the shaft I'd seen from inside the store. Although I knew I was doing something illegal, I couldn't help but think the process had been neat.

I kicked the wooden enclosure at the end and it dangled. No alarms yet. I gave it another boot as it went crashing to the floor. I waited again for alarms, wondering about motion sensors. I jumped down and was now thinking on the fly.

I'd tried a little safe cracking at home, but didn't have the proper equipment. I was now going for the valuables the owner didn't lock down. The cigarettes were my gold.

I raced to the front while opening a black garbage bag up. I started under the counter. I grabbed the cigars, threw in a box of white and blue zigzags, and tossed the entire tray of bic lighters in. No alarms yet.

I grabbed a chair to reach the top shelf. It had two levels; one containing single packs, and the other containing full cartons. I started with the lower, still wondering about motion sensors. As soon as I started on the cartons, the alarm went off. I'd been stuffing the bag for ten minutes.

By Ava Sol on Unsplash

I reasoned I had at least 40 more seconds before I needed to get going. I ran for the door and undid the deadbolt. It wouldn't open as I started to panic. I'd much rather get caught in the long game, than to have made it this far to be stopped by a door not opening.

I noticed another latch and undid it. I gave the door another solid shove but nothing. One more latch on the bottom, and I was escaping into the crisp air of the morning.

I went around back and grabbed the briefcase which I'd left outside of the fence. With briefcase and garbage bag full of cigarettes in hand, I ran down the alley while undressing. I stuffed my costume in the briefcase and along the next alley, came across an unfenced backyard with a topper that looked unused. I stashed the briefcase under it, and made my way home.

I put the bag in the shed as my heart raced and I felt like I could die. I could hear the alarm across town. I went to bed, sleeping most of the day, while G-Ma, unbeknownst, went to work.

***

I receieved a message later from Milli who hadn't believed me, "Shit man, did you hear?"

Except there could have been any number of things to hear, so I asked confused, "Hear what?"

"The store was broken into last night man! Someone stole our idea!" he said laughing, not putting it all together. I told him to come over for that surprise, and he still didn't catch on. Just asked if I was down to smoke a bowl. I definitely was.

Milli arrived and noticed me smoking, asking to bum one. I reached into my pocket for the shed key and opened it, casually saying, "Why don't you just pick a pack?"

Shock immediately mounted on his face, "No. Effing. Way. You didn't..." he said opening up the garbage bag. I showed him a couple shopping bags I'd filled with smokes and told him I was going to bury the main loot. I said we could probably trade our dealer cheap smokes for pot. He grabbed his favourite kind; Number Seven Red. "You did! Holy eff! I can't believe little Jory robbed the store!"

"You can't tell anyone, not even your girlfriend..." I said.

"Oh I won't. No one would even suspect you and everyone hates the owner," he assured me. We agreed to meet up at night, after he dug for information. In the meantime, I dug a hole in the garden, and buried the smokes.

Waiting for Milli that evening, G-Ma asked where I'd gotten smokes from, knowing how broke I was. I told her Milli was supplying me for now. She mentioned the store had been robbed while I played dumb and asked who'd do something so stupid.

Milli showed up and we went for a drive while I prodded for information he'd heard.

By Morgan Housel on Unsplash

"Well, according to my girlfriend, you pulled off a great heist. The police have been interviewing staff all day and are convinced it's an inside job. I guess they've had problems recently with the staff and smokes," he told me while I thought it perfect, "She says they're going around in circles, trying to catch someone in a lie, but since no one knows anything, no one's lying!"

"That couldn't have worked out any better for me,"

"They even said the costume was genius. Except that the hat had the town insurance company on it, so they're even more convinced the thief is a local,"

"The only thing I forgot was the plastic chair I used to get inside. It was generic, so that shouldn't come back on me," but things were about to fall apart, "Shit!" I exclaimed.

"What?!"

"I need to grab a briefcase I stashed under someone's topper man. Like... tonight. Like... right now!" I said having just remembered. I directed him, while he suggested I pack hoots in the pipe.

I grabbed the briefcase and tossed it in the backseat but paranoia was already taking over Milli. I tried to explain that police weren't randomly pulling everyone over to see if they had a briefcase with tools and a disguise in it. He wouldn't have it, and I groaned, telling him to swing by my alley. I tossed it over the fence and we went to our secret place to get stoned.

By the time he dropped me off, it was past midnight. I was burnt out and exhausted when I took off my clothes and crawled into bed. I was at the brink of passing out, when I remembered the briefcase. I sighed the eff word out loud, but reasoned it would still be there in 6 hours.

***

I woke up to an internal alarm around 9, got dressed, and went out back to retrieve the gear. I couldn't see it as I entered the backyard and started to panic. I hadn't seen where it landed, but it didn't seem to be anywhere.

I messaged Milli who didn't have much to say. We both knew I was somehow doomed. I avoided G-Ma, and she seemed to be avoiding me. I now avoided Milli, not wanting to know if he'd cracked and ratted on me. It became clear the briefcase had been found. When she'd gotten up that morning, she noticed a large disturbed area in the garden. Inspecting that, she noticed the out-of-place briefcase.

We were all in shock from that point. G-Ma couldn't believe what I'd done and called up my mother. G-Ma was concerned that I'd hate her forever if she was the one to call the police. Mom had asked if there was anything I wanted to tell her, but I had nothing she hadn't already assumed. Like most things, I wasn't able to see how it would affect anyone except me.

I spent the second night in my room waiting for the inevitable. I sat with my back against the wall and the sound of sirens could be heard approaching from the distance. I started to cry as they grew louder, flashing red and blue lights eventually penetrating my bedroom window. The doorbell rang, and I reasoned that at least now the universe was set in stone, no more uncertainty about my future as I'd just continue floating on through my existence. It was easy to screw everything up, but 10 times harder to put fragile pieces back together.

By Scott Rodgerson on Unsplash

A knock on my door, and G-Ma saying the cops would like to speak with me. I saw no point in running. I could only run for so long, and I'd already been long exhausted from life. The officer wanted to talk about the obvious. I didn't want to confess in front of G-Ma, so asked to go outside.

He led me to a cruiser, asking if I was a smoker. I was, even if I did look out of place for a criminal. He suggested a quick dart before getting down to business since he was a smoker too. We made introductions before he opened the back of the cruiser for me to sit in. I got in assuming I wasn't coming out. I'd only turned 18 a few months back and could now be charged as an adult.

He went through the normal formalities, getting my name, stating my right, and was coming up to the part about lawyers, "Look, we already know what went down, so things will go easier if you cooperate with us. I still have to ask if you'd like to wait for a lawyer," he told me.

I didn't know much, just that I was guilty, so I explained the two-day heist to him. One thing they'd wondered, was why I hadn't just broken into the gas station with large glass windows not barred up. It wasn't the first time the question arose but I needed an excuse to do anything bad, and I had no reason to hate the local gas station. "This was a hate crime," I told him, explaining my relationship with the owner.

"So, you get the smokes, you have trouble getting out but eventually do, what next? Where'd the smokes go?"

"I buried them," I said. I was really wondering if I played my cards right, if I might not make out with something in the end. I felt like life owed me something and knew the owner had insurance. It would take a long time before I realized it was life I owed something to.

"You... buried an entire garbage bag full of smokes?" he said, completely shocked.

"Yeah...?" I replied equally confused, it only seemed like the logical thing to do. I'd cooperated so far, so he asked me to show him where I'd buried them without handcuffing me. I led him to the spot and dug them up.

Slightly amused, he reached down and dusted the treasure bag off, "Wow..." he said.

I was only growing in confusion, "What? I'm confused..."

"I just can't believe this whole thing. Especially the part where you dug a hole in the backyard big enough to bury a giant bag of smokes. It's actually pretty genius," he said, admiring my work.

I was no less confused, how did normal criminals operate? "Not genius enough," I replied, "Genius is not getting caught!"

He chuckled, "Honestly... You had covered your tracks good but slipped up on a couple minor things. You left a chair at the crime scene with your grandpa's initials on it. Had it not been for that, your supply case being handed over to police, and losing a fake boob, you'd have really given us a run for our money," he told me, asking one more time if he had all the contraband. I convincingly told him it was.

"You know, with your smarts, you should really be in university or something," he suggested. That was laughable but my life. I got the support and reassurance where I least expected it, and from the people I least needed it.

I'd told him about the two packs I had in my pocket and he graciously let me keep those. He filled the paperwork outside while we had a second smoke. He told me his own story. He hadn't been the greatest citizen, but worked hard to find his place among society, becoming a cop in hopes of helping people. "Even if it doesn't seem like I help people by arresting them, I hope that some of those people will clean up their lives," he handed me the paperwork and said I wouldn't be incarcerated for the time being, having cooperated in his eyes.

***

I couldn't afford a lawyer so my only option was a government funded one. I hadn't heard anything good about them and figured I was going to have as much luck with the legal system, as I had with anything else. I had an appointment with a Mr. Reese.

Mother bought me dress pants and a shirt telling me to dress like I cared. I walked in and shook his hand with purpose, "Jory Turgeon. Nice to meet you I guess,"

He looked weirdly at me, "You guess?"

"Well, I mean, this is less than ideal circumstances to be meeting someone. I committed a crime after all..." I reminded him.

He bellowed a small chuckle, "So, your first offence, right? Break and enter under $5000?"

"Yes and yes,"

"And is there anything else you wanted to be in life other than a criminal?" he asked.

I was shocked as I saw a glimmer of light. A dream I'd had since I was in Grade 6. I didn't believe in it anymore, but maybe he'd be more apt to listen, "I wanted to be a Microbiologist and cure cancer," I told him smiling, thinking about scientist Jory.

"That's a pretty big goal. How'd you end up robbing stores?"

"High school was something else... I never finished the last semester of grade 12," I sadly said, lamenting on the blatant fact.

I'd thought he'd want to talk about the crime, but he started elsewhere, "Take me back to the night you got arrested,"

"I didn't get arrested at the crime, you know that, right?" I asked. But he knew and wanted to focus on the events with the cop.

"That's where you confessed your crime?" he asked.

"In the police car, yes. I didn't want to in front of my grandma," I told him.

"Okay, this is important. I need to know exactly what the officer said," he said.

"Well, after the rights, he said they knew who committed the crime and things would go easier if I cooperated and confessed," I said, using my recorder-like memory.

"He said those EXACT words to you?"

"Yeeh? On the recorder. Then I confessed," I said, confused.

"Well, that's all I need Jory. The officer bribed you. Even if he had 100 percent conclusive evidence, they're never allowed to lead with that during any confession. The judge will have no option but to throw the entire confession out of court, non admissible. Now it's three months later, and they won't have enough evidence against you. A case they thought was locked and shut? I'm betting they'll be scrambling just to find any evidence again," the lawyer said while I sat there completely shocked.

The police called me in for questioning again, but Mr. Reese told me to be polite and inform them I'd need my lawyer for anything pertaining to the actual crime. I got the same cop, and I felt bad I had to deal with him. Now I wasn't going to cooperate. I went in knowing I was wasting both our time.

By bruce mars on Unsplash

I answered the basic questions and he offered me a cola before things became less than civil. He'd listened to my entire confession, and now I got to sit there stubbornly while he couldn't get anything. His locked and shut case was all over the place.

I felt bad because I'd been long threatened with permanent records, and this would affect his in some way. Even if it was one less arrest. Even if there was no negative statistics and it just burned into his memory center. I worried most of all, that other weird boys wouldn't get the same nice treatment I'd managed to receive.

They kept me a couple hours while I got thirsty, but I'd stopped accepting favours by now, seeing the invisible strings they often came attached with. They knew not all the contraband had been accounted for and after the investigation had wrapped up, the B&E was over $5000, not under. That shocked me, but they had nothing and had to let me go.

By David Veksler on Unsplash

Since I hadn't turned over that contraband, the judge himself wasn't convinced I was willing to turn a new leaf. Mr. Reese didn't want to know if I had the extra stuff. I simply told the court I'd forgotten about lighters and zigzags I'd stashed in my room, not needing to be buried.

The judge said no one got off scot free for a B&E and it wasn't about to happen in his court. Mr. Reese resorted to the same thing each month; they had no evidence, how did the court want to proceed? I understood what he was doing, but it didn't make the trips to court any easier. I'd never forget what I'd done. And my grandparents had built their house in that small town. In one event, I'd put a huge mark on the family name.

A year after the event, I was cleared on almost everything. The judge was threatening to take it all the way, to have me testify in criminal court to judge and juror. Mr. Reese was positive we wouldn't win at that level, and I'd receive the harshest of penalties for us having dragged it out. He went for a plea deal instead, coming to the defense of my character and saying this was the best option for all parties involved.

I agreed to the deal, although I warned them that I wouldn't be able to write a sincere apology letter. While I was good on criminal activity to the magnitude, I was sorry I got caught, not sorry for the owner. Instead, I googled apology letters about stealing and it flew. I paid her $500 deductible for insurance in exchange for no criminal record.

Pat said I should consider myself very lucky and not to screw up the opportunity I'd been given. I thanked him very much and said I wouldn't but I wondered something much different walking out of the office. I wondered if I didn't really have my skin colour to thank for having been listened to in the first place. It was the first time I'd considered my privilege.

It was far from over, for it was only another thing I had to live with and the worst of my psychosis period was yet to come. The backyard of my brain looked like a battlefield. There was a lot of holes I'd been digging and some were pretty deep. Some were so big, they melded with others to create one big hole. But I'd took at look at my life after that year in court, and I promised never to be that bad again.

By Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

guilty
1

About the Creator

The Passionate Autistic

Let me take you on a journey of feelings

linktr.ee/passionateautistic

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.