Whispers in the Wind (21 page)

BOOK: Whispers in the Wind
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Dane had learned in school that the building was constructed back in 1838, and that it was fashioned after a drawing of an Egyptian tomb that caught the fancy of Manhattan’s Common Council. Within the same building was the city prison which was now called “The Tombs” by the people of New York City.

A cold shiver slithered down his spine.

When they arrived at the Hall of Detention and Justice, the officers took Dane inside the building and entered the office of Officer Shamus O’Malley where they sat him in a chair in front of O’Malley’s desk.

The officers gave O’Malley their prisoner’s name and age, explaining that he was a street waif in their district, then filled him in on the details of his arrest and the corroboration of the eye witnesses that he was indeed the one they saw stab Benny Jackson to death.

O’Malley put it all down on paper, and while he was booking Dane for the crime, Dane looked at him with fearful eyes. “Mr. O’Malley, those witnesses were wrong. It wasn’t me. I didn’t stab Benny Jackson. This is a case of mistaken identity. Please believe me.”

O’Malley paused in his writing and looked up at Dane. “Well, sonny, you have the right to get a lawyer to defend you.”

Dane stared at the man as if he had lost his senses. “Oh, sure I can. How would I pay a lawyer? Up till today, even though I’m a street orphan, I’ve had a job at Clarkson Pharmacy. Most of my wages go to help feed the other kids in my colony. My whole family was murdered by a street gang, sir. Do you really think I would turn around and do this to someone else?” A lump caught in his throat, causing him to choke up.

Officer O’Malley had been at the booking desk for a good many years, and he knew that nearly everyone who sat before him claimed that they were innocent. But to O’Malley, there was something different about this boy.

He set his bright Irish eyes on him. “If you’re not guilty, the court will examine your case and pronounce you innocent. Try to be patient and let the justice system do its job.”

O’Malley’s kind words were the first that Dane had encountered since the two policemen had nabbed him in the alley. He felt tears burn the back of his eyes and blinked to keep them in check.

He fixed his gaze on the redheaded officer. “Thank you, sir. If justice is done, I will indeed be pronounced innocent.”

When Officer O’Malley had finished booking Dane for the murder of Benny Jackson, a guard was summoned to take him to his cell. While they were waiting for the guard to appear, O’Malley said, “Dane, you are set to go to trial next Tuesday, September 19.”

Dane took the news silently.

The guard arrived, and O’Malley gave him the details as to why Dane had been arrested, including the testimonies of the three witnesses.

While Officer Thornton was removing the handcuffs so the guard could take Dane away, he said, “I’d like to believe that you’re innocent, but the testimony of three respectable witnesses is hard to discount.”

Dane could only look at him as Thornton hooked the cuffs on his belt.

With that, Thornton and Collins left the office and the guard led Dane toward the office door.

Shamus O’Malley bit his lower lip as Dane was ushered into the hall, his head bent down. When he and the guard passed from view, O’Malley whispered, “Somethin’ inside of me tells me you’re innocent. I hope justice indeed is served.”

As the guard was leading his prisoner down the hall, Dane asked, “Sir, how can I let my employer know what has happened to me? He will be expecting me on the job in the morning.”

“There is no way you can send a message out,” said the guard. “If somebody comes to visit you, you can have them deliver the message to your employer for you.”

Dane nodded silently. Please, Lord. Speak to the hearts of my friends in the alley to contact Dr. Harris, so he will come and see me.

“I’m putting you in a cell in the short-term jail section. You will stay here until your trial. If you are convicted, you will then be locked up in that part of the building known as The Tombs, which is the prison where the long-term prisoners are kept.”

Dane felt sick all over.
Lord, how could this awful thing happen to me? You know I didn’t kill that boy. Please help me
.

They entered the cell block and walked down a corridor between cells. Another guard joined them, holding a ring of keys in his hand. Men behind the bars stared at them as they moved along. Dane felt his flesh crawl.

It crawled even more when they drew up in front of a cell with four bunks inside and three tough-looking boys in their late teens staring at him. The guard with the key ring unlocked the cell and motioned for Dane to step inside. When he did, the barred door slammed shut, and the two guards walked away.

The three boys quickly showed Dane which bunk would be
his, and asked him what he was in for. When Dane told his story, emphasizing his innocence, they laughed mockingly, saying he was innocent just like them. They pressed Dane to give them the details and tell them how it felt to plunge the knife into Benny Jackson’s chest.

Dane told them again that he didn’t do it. They didn’t like the way he talked to them. They cursed him, knocked him to the floor of the cell, and began pounding on him with their fists. Guards came instantly, broke it up, and transferred Dane to a cell by himself, farther down the corridor.

He lay on the cot, nursing a bloody nose, and prayed for God’s help.

Later that afternoon, the children in Dane’s colony were on the street corner begging when Russell Mims spotted Officers James Thornton and Fred Collins on their horses at the other end of the block. They were in conversation with two men on the corner.

Russell pointed them out. “The rest of you stay here. I’m going to go talk to them about Dane. Maybe they’ll tell me now what he’s supposed to have done.”

The children watched Russell run down the sidewalk, then turned their attention to people coming their way so they could beg for money.

Some twenty minutes later, the children saw Russell coming back on the run. At the moment, there was no one to beg from, so they all collected in a knot as Russell drew up.

Gasping for breath, Russell said, “They … they told me … what Dane has been accused of. Let … me catch my breath … and I’ll … tell you.”

When his breathing became more normal, Russell told his
friends what Dane had been accused of and of the witnesses who said they had seen him do it.

Tharyn’s face was a gray mask. “No! Those people are wrong! We all know Dane wouldn’t do a thing like that. Just think of what he’s done for all of us. He’s a wonderful Christian and would never kill anyone.”

Everyone in the group spoke their agreement.

“Anyway,” said Tharyn, “what reason would he have for killing that eleven-year-old boy? It’s ridiculous.”

Everyone agreed again.

Billy Johnson turned to Russell. “Is there anything we can do to help Dane?”

Russell nodded. “Yes. We’ve got to let Dr. Harris know about this. If anybody can help Dane, it’ll be him. I know he will do anything and everything he can.”

Tharyn had tears in her eyes. “Oh, Russell, please go tell Dr. Harris right now!”

“I will. See you later.”

Maude Harris and her husband looked at Russell incredulously as they stood in the office and heard the story.

“This is totally ridiculous,” said the doctor. “That boy is not a killer. Those people who identified him are grossly mistaken.”

“This whole thing is preposterous!” said Maude.

Dr. Harris had just finished with his last scheduled patient for the day. As he went quickly to the washstand and soaped up his hands, he said to Maude, “Honey, if any patients come in while I’m gone, schedule them for tomorrow if you can; and if not, tell them I’ll make a house call this evening. Right now, I have an emergency. Dane needs me and I’m going to him.”

Maude smiled. “Of course, dear. I’ll handle things here. You go to that sweet boy. Our precious Jesus is the Chief Justice and
our Supreme Advocate. He can do
all
things.”

The doctor dried his hands, hung up the towel, and kissed Maude’s wrinkled cheek. “While Russell and I are going to the jail, please lift that boy to the Throne. I don’t know what all of this means, but I do know that nothing gets to the sheep without getting past the Shepherd first. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

When Dr. Harris and Russell Mims arrived at the jail, they were told that only one person could visit a prisoner at a time. Russell stayed in the waiting area while the doctor was taken by a guard to the visiting room after being searched for any kind of weapon.

When the guard ushered him in, Dane had already been brought from his cell and was sitting in the adjacent room behind a barred window. His battered face brightened when he saw his friend.

As Dr. Harris sat down, he said, “I know the whole story. Russell got it out of Officers Thornton and Collins and came to me with it. Russell’s in the waiting room right now. They wouldn’t let both of us come in.” He tipped his face down and eyed the boy over his half-moon spectacles. “What happened to you, son?”

“I was put in a cell with three older teenage boys. They didn’t like it because I wouldn’t admit to killing that boy, so they beat up on me.”

“You’ve got iodine on your cut lip, I notice.”

“Yes, sir. The prison doctor took care of me.”

Dr. Harris looked him straight in the eye. “Dane, Maude and I both know you’re innocent of this charge. God knows it, too. I see some despair in your eyes, and I understand. But the Lord has a reason for allowing this to happen. His timing is different than ours, but don’t despair. He will take care of you.”

Dane blinked at the excess moisture in his eyes and nodded.

Dr. Harris reached through the bars and gripped Dane’s hand.
Let’s pray.

Dane took hold of the doctor’s hand and bowed his head.

Dr. Harris began to pray, imploring their Saviour to give Dane peace and grace beyond measure in the horrible situation. He told the Lord that he knew Dane was innocent of the killing, but that he also knew He had a reason for allowing this mistaken identity to happen. He asked when Dane was cleared of the crime that God would get the glory.

When he finished praying, Dr. Harris felt the tension leave the boy’s hands. He looked into Dane’s eyes and saw that God was already blessing him with immeasurable grace.

Dane formed a smile on his lips. “Thank you, Doctor. I feel better already.”

“Praise the Lord. Maude and I will be holding you up in prayer all the way through this, son. Don’t you despair. It’ll turn out all right.”

Dane nodded. “Dr. Harris, would you do me a favor?”

“Name it.”

“Would you go to the pharmacy and tell Mr. Clarkson what has happened?”

“Certainly. I’ll go immediately. He’s not going to believe these ridiculous charges, either.”

“I hope not. And, Doctor, thank you for not believing them. And please thank Mrs. Harris for her confidence in me too.”

“I will. You’re no killer, Dane. You’re not only a born-again child of God, but you’re a soul winner. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow.”

Dane reached through the bars in the window and gripped the doctor’s hand. “I’ll look forward to it. Thanks, again, for believing in me and for coming to see me.”

When Dr. Harris was gone, one of the guards stepped into the room. “Okay, kid. Let’s go.”

Upon entering his cell, Dane heard the barred door clank
shut behind him as he headed for his bunk. The guard’s footsteps faded away. He sat down on the bunk, bowed his head and asked the Lord to bless the Harrises, and to bless Russell for taking the story to them. He prayed earnestly, asking the Lord to get him out of the jail quickly and to take care of Tharyn and the others in his colony.

Chapter Thirteen

S
hortly after noon the next day, Dane Weston was sitting on his bunk in the cell, reading his Bible, which Dr. Lee Harris had brought him early that morning. He could hear the low rumble of the prisoners talking as usual in their cells.

His head came up when he heard the handle clank on the big steel door a short distance down the corridor. He could see the door from his bunk. The door swung open, and his heart thumped in his chest when he saw Tharyn Myers enter the cell block, sided by a big burly guard. The guard picked up a wooden chair that stood against the wall next to the door.

Dane closed the Bible, laid it on his pillow, and hurried to the cell door, gripping the bars as he watched Tharyn coming toward him. The huge guard dwarfed the little redhead, and Dane could tell she was a bit intimidated by him.

Tharyn’s own heart was pounding her rib cage when the guard led her into the corridor, and it pounded harder when she saw Dane standing at his cell door, gripping the bars. In her heart, she was determined to put on a brave face and be a help to this young man who had done so much for her.

As they drew up to the cell, the guard said, “Somebody here to see you, kid. You’ve got ten minutes.” As he spoke, he placed
the chair on the floor in front of the cell door. Then he walked away.

Dane and Tharyn stood gazing into each other’s eyes, then he reached through the bars, arms open.

As she moved into his arms, pressing against the bars, he said, “I’m so glad to see you, little sis.”

Other prisoners were looking on curiously as Tharyn patted his cheek. “I’m so sorry that this horrible thing has happened.”

Dane released her, then took hold of her hand. “Thank you for coming. You didn’t walk all the way over here alone, did you?”

“No. Russell came with me. He’s down in the waiting room by the office. He didn’t want me on the streets by myself.”

“Bless him. I don’t want you on those streets alone, either.” He let go of her hand. “Please sit down.”

As Tharyn eased onto the chair, Dane said, “I’m surprised they let you come here into the cell block.”

“Well, the visiting room for this section of the jail is full right now. It took some tall talking, but I explained to the chief guard in the office that Russell and I are street orphans and need to get back to our corner to beg for money. I told him you were my adopted brother, and that it was very important that I see you. This got to him, so he called for that guard and told him to bring me right to your cell.” She flashed Dane a smile.

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