me and then at the courtroom audience. I saw a sheen of perspi-
ration starting to form on Stevey D’s forehead and his jittery
movement was starting to get animated like a man sitting on a hot
seat. Pressure.
“
Mr. Davis, could you tell the courtroom what it is you intend
to get in return for your testimony here today.”
“
Objection! Your Honor, the government has not promised
the witness anything in return for his testimony.”
“
Ms. Evans, I hope that you are going somewhere with this
line of questioning,” the judge said impatiently.
“
Your Honor, we intend to show that the witness has a motive
to make him risk perjury on the stand in the form of a significant
reduction of sentence.”
“
Overruled. The witness shall answer the question.”
“
No, I was not promised anything,” Stevey D said, moving
around in his chair like he was going to pee in his pants. I could
tell that he and Scandels had gone over this. So I tried another
approach, more tactful. Casually I strode over to the defense table
and retrieved a piece of paper from a folder. Life was watching me
with his hand posed under his chin. From the expression on his
face I could tell, just like the rest of the courtroom, he wondered
what the hell I was doing. After all, he had good reason. The man
had placed a million dollars in my bank account. I walked back
over to the witness stand, looked at the paper in my hand,
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frowned at Stevey D and then looked at the jury.
“
I have here in my hand an arrest report. On April 10
it says
th
here you were arrested for conspiracy to traffic in cocaine with the
intent to sell to undercover agents while in possession of a firearm.
Mr. Davis, you’re a convicted felon, aren’t you?” He nodded his
head nervously. “You’ll have to speak up.”
“
Yes,” he answered. He was now sweating profusely.
I looked at the paper and looked at him again. “You’re in a lot
of trouble. Life plus three hundred months in prison.” Stevey D
continued to squirm in his chair folding and unfolding his arms.
I leaned against the witness stand, up close and in his face.
“
Mr. Davis, are you aware that this court can charge you with
perjury if you get caught in a lie?”
Stevey D nodded his head up and down and croaked a hoarse,
“
Yes ma’am.”
“
It looks to me like you can’t afford to do any more time, can
you?”
“
No,” he said somberly, making a face that looked to me like
a silent plea.
I raised my voice. “Mr. Davis, I’m going to ask you again and
you be very careful how you answer this question so that you don’t
perjure yourself and get more time in prison. Do you, or do you
not, expect to get anything in return for your testimony?” I asked
threateningly, the lull and the suspense built with it. All in the
courtroom anxiously waited to hear the answer. I could hear the
old folks humming penitent mantras in the Lord’s name, a baby
cried in the distance. I watched as Stevey D’s eyes skirted across
the courtroom in search of Scandels. I saw fear, panic and uncer-
tainty in the dark pools of his eyes. All informants are like human
rats when trapped in a corner–they don’t care who they bite.
“
M ... M ... Mr. Scandels told me that if I testified against L,
he would reduce my sentence to five years,” Stevey D stammered.
A cacophony of voices rose from the crowded courtroom. The
judge banged his gavel. I looked over at Scandels. He ran his
hands through his hair in frustration, his once aplomb demeanor
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now exposed to agitation as he looked up at the ceiling with an
expression that read,
what else can go wrong?
I turned and mouthed to the cour troom, “If the evidence
doesn’t fit …”
Vociferous voices returned in singsong chorus, “You must
acquit!”
I turned to the judge, “No further questions Your Honor.” As
I strolled back to the defense table I gave my Scandels a triumph
glare. Taya and Adrienne stood to great me. I noticed that the
older women were careful to mask their excitement, but I could
see in their eyes, for a young inexperienced attorney, I did good.
They were proud of me.
I sat down next to Life. He said, “Hope that was very power-
ful, praise Jesus. One down and 77 to go.” I had to do a second
take with Life, lately he had been talking this religious Jesus and
God stuff.
“
Your Honor, I would like to request a sidebar,” Scandels
blurted out. The judge removed his glasses and massaged the brim
of his bulbous nose and looked at Scandels annoyed.
“
What is the purpose of this sidebar?” the judge asked, dis-
gruntled as he looked at his watch.
“
Your Honor, it’s a rather sensitive matter.”
The judge shook his head dismayed. The judge called for a
sidebar. We all approached the bench, both parties, defense and
prosecution, jocking for a position. I noticed a few reporters
careening forward to hear a bit of juicy gossip. In hushed tones
Scandels whispered.
“
Your Honor the press, along with the unusual crowd of spec-
tators in the courtroom, is interfering with my case. It’s like I’m in
one of them Black folks’ churches. I can hear them singing and
moaning in the background.”
Judge Statford silenced Scandels with a wave of his hand.
Fuming mad, he spoke to Scandels through clinched teeth, the
way a father chastises a son.
“
You of all people have let this woman come into my court-
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room and make you look like a fool.” In the judge’s rage, he let it
be known his prejudice for me and my staff. “You need to find a
way to win this case, your very future may be relying on it coun-
selor, and furthermore; let me worry about my courtroom and the
spectators. This young woman has just handed you your ass on a
silver platter.” With that said, the judge reared back in his chair.
End of discussion.
One of the government’s star witnesses, Tomica Edwards, was
scheduled next to testify.
*****
The following morning as the trial was scheduled to begin, the
courtroom was packed to capacity as usual. However, that day, I
saw a woman that I have always admired, Sister Souljah. She and
Nandi were sitting together talking. As soon as they saw me they
waved. My heart soared. Sister Souljah is my girl! I can’t remem-
ber a moment in my life I was more proud of being a Black
woman handling my business. I guess that was around the time
Life really star ted acting strange with this religious thing. He told
me that he was giving his life to the Lord, but would then ask me
to smuggle him in some Hennessy and something to smoke. I did
it on a few occasions. I knew the man was a thug and he may have
been running game on me, but I loved him. Besides, I think he
was starting to take religion seriously. I knew just as I had planned,
Life’s father’s church was having a subliminal effect on ever ybody
like some magical spell. Black spirituality is one of the most pow-
erful forces on this planet.
As Tomica Edwards entered the courtroom, all eyes turned to
her tall and regal beauty. Her amber complexion with long black
hair, green cat eyes ensconced in high cheekbones, gave her the
kind of exotic loveliness that makes one question the ancestr y of
her linage. She moved with the graceful confidence of an experi-
enced runway model. However, Tomica Edwards was living proof
that looks could be deceiving. I spent many nights going over her
criminal records. What I found interesting was she was a lesbian
and that she hated men with a passion. Her specialty was boost-
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ing everything from fur coats to eighteen-wheelers.
Once Tomica took the stand and was sworn in, the hateful
looks that she exchanged with Life made me want to ask what had
he done to this woman to make her harbor so much animosity for
him. The crux of this case was just how much did she know about
Life? Because indeed, if she did know enough, she could by her-
self put him away for the rest of his life. For the defense she would
be difficult, because normally with a lengthy police record like
hers you could use it against her. But in this case it would only
serve to give credence to her testimony. As I looked on, it was evi-
dent from the scornful look on her face, she had a debt to settle
against Life and fully intended to.
Scandels approached the witness stand cautiously, careful not
to lose this witness like he did the last one. My assistant Adrienne
was to cross-examine her. Earlier that week she confided to me
that Tomica’s testimony was going to be the most damaging. The
woman simply knew too much about the inner workings of Life
Thugstin’s enterprise.
After a few introductory prologues, Scandels got right to the
point. “Do you see the defendant, Life Thugstin, in the court-
room?”
Before he could get the words out of his mouth, Tomica point-
ed. “ That’s the bastard right there!” I saw Life’s body stiffen with
her words. Scandels turned and smirked at me. I noticed the judge
smiled, too.
Scandels had Tomica on the stand for three straight days. She
told all. It appeared as if she knew all. She told of how she first met
L as he was notorious by his peers, his rise in the dope trade from
selling dime rocks to keys. She testified that at one time Life
Thugstin had over two hundred people working for him in six dif-
ferent states. At the time he was grossing anywhere from one to
two million dollars a day. She told of his lavish lifestyle. He could
fly to Colombia if he wanted to in his private jet. He had villas in
Brazil, Costa Rica, he owned Lamborghinis and Ferraris. She
claimed that the real mastermind was not Life Thugstin, but Trina
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Vasquez. Tomica’s testimony was devastating. Often I would look
over and see Life with his head down praying.
After ward, on our turn to cross-examine the witness, Adrienne
Greene did everything in her power to crack the imperturbable
calm of Tomica. One thing the press and the jury could easily see,
this was past a legal battle, this was personal, and for four grueling
days Adrienne went at Tomica often to both the objection of
Scandels and the scrutiny of the judge’s reprove. With the judge
making his intentions known, he was siding with the prosecution.
The beautiful Tomica, her stoic demeanor, a lesbian that felt supe-
rior to all other women, was too much for Adrienne, and to this