“Okay,” she says, “this is just arraignment, but this can be a good thing for you. You have no priors, no indication of a past history of violence...” she looks over some notes, and I can’t help but wonder where she got the information. I guess that’s what I’m paying her for. “Do you have a passport?” “No,” I say. “I’ve barely left the state in my life.” “Good,” she says, “that’s good. Do you have any money stashed away?” “Why?” “Well, I’ve already done a check on your financials and they’re not stellar,” she says, biting the end of her pencil. Apparently she’s allowed to smoke in the interrogation room, but not in the courthouse. “Why did you—” “If you have any money set aside that they’ve found out about, it could really hurt your chance of getting bail. Now, any rainy-day funds, anything I should know about going in there?” “No,” I say. “I mean, James has a windfall from his parents’ death, but I think that’s all tied up in CDs or something.”
