“Order the court!” The gavel sounds, and a new day begins. You would think it was all about dramatic speeches or high-stakes situations, but that is only the beginning. Take a look at my day as a Melbourne www.haitchlegal.com.au criminal attorney.
The alarm clock rings at 5:30 in the morning. The first thing I see in the morning is coffee–black and without sugar. I look at my schedule. It’s jam-packed like a sardine. First up, client meetings. A man who claims to have been falsely accused of burglary by the boyfriend of his former girlfriend is one example. “It wasn’t me,” insists the man, his eyes wide and desperation infusing.
I listen carefully, taking notes in shorthand which I can only decipher later. What’s important is not what people say but how they express themselves–the pauses or hesitations. The pauses and hesitations reveal more than the words themselves.
I arrive at the courthouse around 8:00 am for a preliminary trial conference. The prosecutor, who is always late, arrives and we exchange pleasantries as cold as an Antarctic winter. We bargain over evidence, like two merchants in a bazaar. Each is trying to get the best deal.
Ah joy! Back to the office at 10:00 am for some paperwork. While not glamorous, reviewing and drafting motions is important. Every comma, period or hyphen could mean a life-changing event for someone.
Lunch? What lunch? What lunch?
The court session is back at 1:00 pm, this time with a hearing on bail. My client is nervous; his hands are shaking as though he’s waiting for his name to come up. “Just breath,” I say softly to him, even though I’m mentally rehearsing all the arguments I’ll present before the judge.
We enter courtroom five, a place I know better than my living room. The judge stares at us through her glasses; she does not tolerate fools.
The hearing went well, even better than expected. Bail was granted but with stricter conditions than the cookie recipe your grandmother uses.
At midday, I return to my client meetings. This time it is with someone who was accused of embezzlement but claims the whole thing was an accounting error. It’s a story with more holes than Swiss Cheese, but it’s what I’m here for–to sort through the nonsense and find a solid foundation.
Late afternoons bring another round of documents reviews and phone conversations with experts speaking jargon thick enough to require a machete.
We meet up with our colleagues to have drinks as the evening draws near. This is a great opportunity to relax and exchange war stories of the legal battles we had that day. One begins, “You’ll never believe what happened,” as we all lean forward like children around a campfire.
It’s possible to get home before 9:00 PM, if you are lucky. But it can be much later (and this happens a lot). What’s in the fridge, or takeout if I want to be fancy.
There’s a last email check before bed because legal crises are not bound by business hours. It’s then lights out at midnight and thoughts are already turning to tomorrow’s problems.
You’ve just experienced a day that is full of surprises and twists, but also real people whose lives are at risk with each decision you make.