“I will co-operate to the fullest extent that the law requires me to so long as you in turn respect my rights and let me talk to a lawyer as you are obligated by law.”
“Finally someone’s making sense around here,” replies the officer. “Please follow me.”
You are led to a different part of the warehouse where there are a few dozen folding tables and chairs set up. The officer brings you to one, pulls up a chair for you and seats themselves on the other side of the table next to a clerk in a suit, presumably a detective.
“Please sit,” they say, indicating the chair.
You do as suggested and stare across at the officer who is arranging paperwork in front of them. They then produce a small voice recorder from their pocket, place it in the center of the table and press record. A small red LED indicates that the recorder is on, the officer proceeds to state their name, the date, then continues.
“This recording is to provide an accurate account of this interview for the purpose of investigating your involvement with the alleged crimes of vandalism and property damage that occurred earlier during street demonstrations. Should you wish to obtain a copy of this recording for the purpose of your legal defence or any other court proceedings you may do so by contacting the police department and one will be made available to you upon request. Do you agree to co-operate?”
“I want to have a lawyer present if I’m going to be interrogated”
“This is not an interrogation, simply an interview. This court appointed lawyer,” indicating the clerk, “will be present for the entire duration and will happily counsel you on any legal questions you may have. Please state your name, address and date of birth.”
You eye your lawyer who responds to your un-asked question “You are legally obligated to provide confirmation of your identity as the subject of an investigation.”
You comply and provide the obligatory information.
“What were you doing at the time of your detention?” the officer asks you.
“Do I have to answer that?”
“If you are not guilty of any crime it is in your best interest to co-operate with the investigation and prove your innocence. If ,however, you are guilty of an offence it is not in your best interest to provide any information that may lead to your conviction,” states the lawyer.
After a pause you reply “At the time of my arrest I was at a protest which is my RIGHT!”
“Your right to protest does not extend to assaulting police officers and committing acts of property damage.”
“I have not been charged with any of these offences, and I do not believe that you have the right to make arbitrary arrests or continue to hold me against my will.”
“You have not been placed under arrest, you are being detained to determine your involvement with the alleged crimes.”
You feel deceived, as though your trust has been betrayed. You also feel angry at yourself for being so naive as to believe that providing information would put you on their good side and get you released. You stare back across the table and say.
“In that case I have already provided you with all the information required from me by law and I wish to say no more.”
The officer in turn speaks, not to you but to the voice recorder, “Let it be noted for the record that the suspect refuses to co-operate further with the investigation.”
They reach out and press stop, the red LED goes out. They speak past you as if recalling something from memory.
“You will be transferred back to holding where you will stay until we have completed this investigation to our satisfaction.”
You are escorted out of the interrogation, or interview room as they called it, to a different cell than the one from which you came. After the guards have left, you look at your new cell mates and ask.
“So did you all choose to co-operate as well?”
“Damn straight, I haven’t done anything wrong, I gave them all the details I could recall.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Cause those anarchist punks deserve to feel the full weight of the law! You can’t break the rules and expect to have rights at the same time. If you want the police to let you protest, you have to respect the laws.”
“But all you prove by giving testimony is that you were there at the scene of the crime.”
“Anything you say or do, can and will be used against you in a court of law,” another prisoner chips in.
“Exactly! That’s what I realized. Now that they have our names we’re all screwed.”
“They told me I was going to be released when they finish their investigation.”
“When’s that going to be?”
“When I get out of here, I’m going straight to my lawyer! I am a law abiding citizen. I am a taxpayer, and the police are civil servants who are supposed to be working for us! If they don’t respect us and give us our rights they’re going to find themselves on the wrong end of the law.”
“Your right about one thing, we ought to demand a public inquiry, we ought to demand charges be laid. There has to be consequences for misconduct. There has to be accountability.”
As time drags on you seem no closer to being freed. You can hear shouts and screams coming from other parts of the prison, and you are secretly thankful that whatever is going on, you’re not over there. A little while later an officer informs you.
“There’s been a disturbance in some of the other cells. We can’t release anybody until we have the situation under control. It looks like you’ll have to wait until morning.”
You’re not sure who you should be more angry with, the shit disturbers for messing things up, or the police for their collective punishment. But for now the only thing you can do is shut your eyes and wait until morning. Finally the sounds from the other cells quiet down. Was that pepper spray you smelled? You try to forget about it. The cement floor is cold and hard, but fatigue and exhaustion take their toll and you fall into a dreamless sleep. When you awake, your body is so stiff you can barely move, but you jump to your feet when an officer enters your cell to say that they’re ready to discharge you. All you need to do is sign a release form and you’re free to go.
Or somewhat free that is. It turns out the form you signed was a legal contract specifying that you agree not to attend protests in the future. Failure to comply with these conditions can lead to further charges and even incarceration. But it doesn’t say anything about participating in other political organizations, and after everything that’s happened you’re not certain how effective street demonstration are in the first place. But you’re sure not going to abandon the struggle, so as soon as they let you out of this cell you resolve to find another way to make a difference.
One by one the guards escort you out and finally it’s your turn. You’re brought first to the table where you were originally processed, and all of your belongings are returned to you in a box bearing the same number. You tuck the box beneath your arm and head for the exit. As you walk through the front gate of the warehouse you’re surprised to see that the streets are full of thousands of people cheering and waving banners. Total strangers come up and hug you as your eyes adjust to the sunlight that they’ve been robbed of. Someone asks if you’re hungry and passes you a steaming cup of soup before you have time to say “I’m starving”. After all that you’ve been through it feels so good to be among the warmth of people who care for each other.
Original photo: public domain