Corrupted (5 page)

“So then what happened?”

“They took him to the courthouse and I met them there. It's right in town, you can't miss it.”

Bennie had a terrible sense of direction, especially where there was no graffiti to guide her. “What time did you get called?”

“About 3:15.”

“So he was arrested around 12:15 and you don't get called until three hours later?”

“Yes, when I got there, they had him handcuffed!” Matthew's eyes widened in disbelief. “He was tryin' not to cry, and the cop said we hadda see the judge right then, so we did.”

“Was he alone or with Richie?”

“Alone. I took him aside so we could talk. He felt bad I had to leave work, the poor kid.”

“Is there a reason you didn't call a lawyer?”

“The cop said we don't need a lawyer, he said nobody gets a lawyer for juvie court.”

Bennie knew that had to be wrong. “What was the cop's name, do you remember?”

“Remember? I know him. Wright Township police only have a handful o' cops. It was Johnny Manco, he goes to our church. So then he took us to the courthouse door. We went to a table and they gave us this sheet and the lady said if we signed it, and pled guilty, it would go easier for Jason.”

“Let me see that.” Bennie accepted the paper when Matthew slid it toward her and the top line read,
W
AIVER OF
R
IGHT TO
C
OUNSEL
. Underneath that it read:

A. I understand the rights listed above. Check one: yes, no.

B. I wish to proceed with the intake interview without a lawyer. Check one: yes, no.

I will have my own lawyer. Check one: yes, no.

I cannot afford a lawyer and desire a public defender to represent me. Check one: yes, no.

Bennie noted that on Part A, the “yes” box had been checked in pen, and on Part B, the first sentence had been checked yes,
I wish to proceed with the intake interview without a lawyer.
“What's an intake interview?”

“I don't know. There was a lady at the back of the room, she's a probation officer, I think, just sitting at a table in the back of the courtroom. You tell her what happened, and they just shuffle you into the courtroom.”

“Why did you sign this?”

“She said the same thing the cop did, ‘don't make a big deal of it, that it'll go a lot easier for him if he doesn't have a lawyer.'” Matthew paused, stricken. “I let him down. I never thought this could happen.”

Bennie's heart went out to him. “Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault.”

“I should've known better.”

“If you knew better, you wouldn't need a lawyer. And I'd be out of business.”

Matthew managed a smile, and Bennie returned her attention to the form, which had a signature line at the bottom, after:
Acknowledgment: I acknowledge the above-named juvenile is my child, and I hereby waive his right to counsel.
After that was Matthew's signature.

“Did the judge ask you or Jason any questions about having a lawyer?”

“No.”

“Also, you signed this waiver form, but I don't believe that you can waive Jason's rights to counsel.”

“I figured it's like a permission slip.”

“Legally, it's not the same thing. He has constitutional rights.” Bennie decided it was time for the short course in juvenile justice. “There's a landmark case,
In Re Gault
, decided by the Supreme Court in the sixties, and it guarantees the same constitutional rights to juveniles that adults have. Any waiver of a constitutional right has to be knowing and intelligent. His wasn't.” Bennie set the sheet of paper aside. “Okay, you said you went to the public defender. What happened?”

“They told me I make too much money.” Matthew snorted. “First time I ever heard
that
.”

“But it's not your income level that's relevant, it's Jason's, and he's indigent.” Bennie didn't get it. “Tell me what the judge said, during the adjudication.”

“There was no ‘judication,' the whole thing didn't take but three minutes! The judge yelled at him, you're going right to jail, then the officers came over and they put him in shackles!”

“Around his ankles?” Bennie asked, shocked.

“Yes, so he couldn't even walk, and they took him to River Street.”

“What's River Street?”

“It's juvie. He's going to be there
ninety days
.”

“Three months?” Bennie couldn't imagine how such a long sentence was justified.

“It's awful. We were going to pick out a tree this weekend. The first Christmas without his mother, he'll be behind
bars.
” Matthew shook his head, plainly heartsick.

“And what about school, homework, tests? Isn't this almost the end of the semester?”

“He'll miss all that time in school. They say they'll teach him in juvie, but Jason likes school, gets good grades, A's and B's. It's all he has, that and this house, his toys. Me, now that his mother is gone. He's a
kid
, for Christ's sake!”

“What about his friends?”

“Not many, he's kind of a loner.”

Bennie set the pad aside. “Here's the problem, legally. Appeals from the adjudication by the juvenile court are to the Superior Court, but appeals are too slow. It can take six months to a year to get a case heard on appeal, and Jason's sentence will have expired by that time.”

“So what do we do?”

“We have to think of something else. I'll have to get creative.” Bennie felt her blood flowing faster.

“So, you'll take this case? I'll pay you what it takes, I have money. My wife and me, we saved for Jason's college fund. I'll take the money from there.” Matthew knitted his fingers together. “I read about you, you'll get him out. You're smart, you're a Philadelphia lawyer. There's nobody else I can turn to, I went in town, there's no juvenile lawyer or whatever you call it. Please, get him out for his mother's sake.”

“Okay, I'll do it. But if it looks like I'm out of my depth, I'll let you know and I'll help you find an expert.”

“Thank God.” Matthew got out of his chair, and before Bennie could stop him, he hustled around the table, opening his arms. “Thank you so much!”

“You're welcome.” Bennie rose, hugged him back, then released him. “So, let's get started.”

 

CHAPTER SIX

Bennie drove Matthew down East North Street through Wilkes-Barre, where streetlights illuminated brick homes and businesses decorated with Christmas lights, but there was no foot traffic. They passed the low-slung brick dormitories for King's College, a local Catholic university, but there were no students on the street. Bennie was beginning to realize that the density levels were so much lower than she was used to, and the weather was a factor as well. Snow was beginning to fall, and flurries swirled in the cones of light cast by the streetlights.

“Cold out,” Bennie said, just to make conversation. Matthew had grown quiet as they approached the detention center.

“Storm's coming. You might have to stay over at the Hilton. It's the only place around.”

“Okay.” Bennie had seen it, coming in. She didn't think she'd have a problem getting a room.

“The wind's whippin' off the river. It's icy.”

“What river?”

“The Susquehanna. That's what the North Street Bridge is over.”

Bennie spotted the elevated bridge, which was four lanes heading into the darkness with the mountains behind. Ahead lay a big intersection with a modern building to the right, and to the left, a massive limestone edifice with stately columns in front, graceful arches at the entrance, and a silvery dome, illuminated at night.

“That's the courthouse,” Matthew said, evidently reading her mind. “Turn right at the light.”

Bennie saw the River Street sign in the snow, then turned. There were modern office buildings on her left, but on the right were small, run-down clapboard houses. She drove higher uphill, and at the very peak stood a long, boxy building, encased in shadow.

“That's it.” Matthew's tone was quiet.

“There's no sign.”

“They don't need one. Everybody knows what it is.”

Bennie turned onto the driveway, which wound around the side building, going straight up to the peak of the hill, with a wall of black rock on the right and a guardrail on the left. She spotted a grimy old redbrick building, which looked to have three or four stories, with bars over the windows. It was shaped like a rectangle with a wing at either end, and she drove around to the left wing, since that was where the driveway led. There was a small parking lot near the entrance, and Bennie pulled in, cutting the ignition.

*   *   *

“I appreciate you doing this.” Matthew pressed his glasses up on his nose. In his lap sat a white plastic bag he was bringing Jason, which contained socks, long underwear, and Legos. “We wouldn't be here if you hadn't read the riot act to that lady.”

“It's my job.” Bennie had insisted on seeing Jason outside of visiting hours, arguing that as his counsel, she couldn't be denied. She grabbed her purse and messenger bag, then turned to Matthew. “I hope you don't mind my meeting with him alone.”

“No, I'll say hi, then I'll say I have to go to the bathroom. Give you two some time.” Matthew opened the car door, clutching the white plastic bag.

“Let's go.” Bennie got out of the car, catching a frigid gust of wind in the face as she closed the door behind her. She looked down to the river, which snaked thick and black at the foot of the hill, and she saw a large dark building, its roof ringed with concertina wire, along the riverbank. It had an older portion in back, of lighter tan brick, and its roof looked like an ancient medieval castle with turrets at the corners. Story-high cyclone fencing and barbed wire surrounded the entire compound.

“That's the adult prison,” Matthew said, his breath wreathing his head in the cold.

Bennie shuddered, then turned around.
LUZERNE COUNTY DETENTION CENTER
, read a white sign beside a rusted double door with peeling green paint, set under a green metal awning. A single light flickered above the door, and down the left side of the building was a tiny yard with cyclone fencing topped with concertina wire. Brutal wind and icy snow swirled off the river, making the setting grimly Gothic. The sky was completely black and starless.

Matthew shoved his hands in his pockets, shaking his head. “I can't believe my boy is here, I just can't believe it.”

“I know.” Bennie couldn't believe any kids were in such a horrible place. Matthew gestured her ahead, and they climbed the few concrete steps to the doorway, where they pressed an aged buzzer. There were no security cameras, and in the next few moments, an older guard in a blue uniform came to the door, unlocked it, and opened it narrowly, blinking against the snow.

“Hello, I'm Bennie Rosato, counsel for Jason Lefkavick, and this is his father, Matthew Lefkavick. We called ahead.”

“Oh, you're the one.” The guard looked from Bennie to Matthew, then opened the door. The doors emptied into a grimy vestibule with a worn linoleum floor and walls of peeling gray paint, and after they produced IDs, they were led down an equally run-down corridor to a small visiting room that contained a few battered wooden tables with mismatched chairs. The guard left them to retrieve Jason.

Bennie sat down, setting her things on the table, while Matthew remained standing, gazing expectantly at the door on the other side of the room. He was in motion as soon as the door was opened and Jason was led into the room by the guard. Bennie was struck immediately by how little Jason was, not even five feet tall. His chubby, prepubescent frame filled out the blue jumpsuit, and his brush haircut showed a child's indifference to appearance. The instant Jason saw his father, he took off running into his arms.

“No running!” shouted the guard, from a station by the door, but neither father nor son paid him any mind, embracing in the middle of the quiet, empty room. Bennie watched the scene, praying she could get this kid out of this dump. She watched as Matthew gave Jason the bag of toys, looped a heavy arm around his shoulder, then walked him over to Bennie.

“Bennie, this is Jason and he's happy to talk to you. You guys have a nice chat while I go to the bathroom. Understood, son?”

“Okay.” Jason nodded, looking down as his father left.

“Hi, Jason.” Bennie couldn't remember the last time she'd talked to a seventh grader, if ever. “I'm sorry you're here, pal.”

Jason didn't meet her eye. “Me, too. It sucks.”

“So, I'm a lawyer in Philadelphia and your father called me to see if I could help you.”

“Can you get me out of here?” Jason's blue eyes widened with hope.

“I hope so,” Bennie answered, watching her words. It was always tricky business to manage the client's expectations, and she never felt that more acutely than she did now.

“Do you think I will be out this week?” Jason's short forehead buckled. “I really want to be home by Christmas. I want to finish the castle.”

“The what?”

“The castle. King Leo's castle.”

“King Lear?”

“No, Leo.” Jason reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of tiny black Lego bricks and some small figurines, which he emptied on the table, then lined up. “I can work on part of the castle here, but have to be home to finish. I try to cut the hours it takes, each time.”

“Oh I see.” Bennie smiled, impressed by his industry. “I saw the ones you built in the dining room. They're incredible.”

“Thank you.” Jason smiled back, then pursed his lips again, covering his teeth. “I can do so much better now. I can build faster, too, like, if you build a lot of Legos, you figure out how it works. It's logical. And you have to use your imagination, and it takes patience. I have a lot of patience, that's what my mom always says. Said.”