I had an argument recently with a prosecutor (shocking, I know), and much of her reasoning centered around her repetition of the cliche "where there's smoke, there's fire". The problem with such clichés is that the other side is basically acknowledging that they cannot respond to your position with any sort of intellectual vigor. Cliché's avoid substantive arguments--and I'm in the business of making such arguments.
Our case for today is A.B. v. State, 141 So. 3d 647 (Fla. 4th DCA 2014). Here's the scene: kids playing basketball at a city park, having a good time. Some kids are watching the game, some are on the court playing. The kids playing have left their cell phones and wallets off to the side of the court. At some point, the players noticed a couple of kids running from the area where they left their wallets and cell phones. Sure, enough, their stuff was gone. A.B. was one of the kids running away.
I know what you're thinking, why run away if you've done nothing wrong, right? Well, remember, its kids we're dealing with, that's why we can't use the defendant's actual name, we have to use initials. Somehow, the cops caught up with A.B. about two weeks after the incident, and he told the officer "I can't believe I am going down for this alone". Id. at 648. Now, even if you believe what the officer says A.B. said (I often don't, unless it's recorded--every officer carries a recorder/cell phone), this statement isn't quite a confession. It may be admission that he knows who did it, but it's not quite a confession. The juvenile further explained that his friend issued the following command: "When I run, you run". Assuming A.B's friend is not some sort of pyrotechnical engineer about to launch a 4th of July Jubilee, this sort of statement is the universe's way of telling you "some shit is about to go down". Again, we're dealing with kids here, and this statement probably resulted in a response like "uh, ok, huh" (think Beavis & Butthead).