11am Robert Goren's Apartment
The hard knock at the door jolted Goren wide awake. Fully clothed, and a bit disoriented he made his way to the door. On the way there, he tried to recall how much alcohol he had consumed the night before.
"Robert Goren?" asks a booming voice.
"Yes. What bring New York's finest to my humble home?"
Dangling a warrant in front of him. "This" responds one of the officers.
Goren tries to speak, but no words come out only a grunt after being slammed against the wall and cuffed.
The officer begins reading him his Miranda rights; "Robert Goren, You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand?"
With a muffled 'yes.' The two officers escort him out to the squad car.
11:45 am Police Plaza1
If the horrible traffic was any indication how bad it was at the station, no one would have known. The media swarmed around the arriving squad car, the officers had to literally shove the door open to force reporters to back up. Grabbing Goren by the arm they pushed their way through the masses. Cameras constantly flashing, microphones were shoved into Goren's face. Reporting shouting and beckoning him for a comment. Head bowed Goren's nail's dug deep into his hand trying to not lose his cool. A helicopter hovered above the scene, trying to get a better view.
From a window Deakins, ADA Carver and Eames watch disgustedly as Goren and the officers make there way through and into the building. The ding of the elevator snapped them back to attention. Eames watched as Goren walked by them, never making eye contact with any of them. Not even her.
Handcuffed to the bench, Goren leans back against the cement wall. He never thought he would be the one sitting here. He never knew how cold it was. A shiver went up his spine. Closing his eyes he thinks about his mother. Smiling, he remembers..Elizabeth's warm body against his.
Sweating profusely he jerks forward and puts his hands in face. "No, no, no, no."
The hard knock at the door jolted Goren wide awake. Fully clothed, and a bit disoriented he made his way to the door. On the way there, he tried to recall how much alcohol he had consumed the night before.
"Robert Goren?" asks a booming voice.
"Yes. What bring New York's finest to my humble home?"
Dangling a warrant in front of him. "This" responds one of the officers.
Goren tries to speak, but no words come out only a grunt after being slammed against the wall and cuffed.
The officer begins reading him his Miranda rights; "Robert Goren, You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand?"
With a muffled 'yes.' The two officers escort him out to the squad car.
11:45 am Police Plaza1
If the horrible traffic was any indication how bad it was at the station, no one would have known. The media swarmed around the arriving squad car, the officers had to literally shove the door open to force reporters to back up. Grabbing Goren by the arm they pushed their way through the masses. Cameras constantly flashing, microphones were shoved into Goren's face. Reporting shouting and beckoning him for a comment. Head bowed Goren's nail's dug deep into his hand trying to not lose his cool. A helicopter hovered above the scene, trying to get a better view.
From a window Deakins, ADA Carver and Eames watch disgustedly as Goren and the officers make there way through and into the building. The ding of the elevator snapped them back to attention. Eames watched as Goren walked by them, never making eye contact with any of them. Not even her.
Handcuffed to the bench, Goren leans back against the cement wall. He never thought he would be the one sitting here. He never knew how cold it was. A shiver went up his spine. Closing his eyes he thinks about his mother. Smiling, he remembers..Elizabeth's warm body against his.
Sweating profusely he jerks forward and puts his hands in face. "No, no, no, no."