Endangered (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-nine

JANAE HAD NEVER BEEN TO THE NATION'S CAPITAL. SHE REMEMBERED THAT she could have gone once on a class trip in her last year of junior high school, but it would have cost too much. That was just a few months before she became pregnant with Malik.

At Janae's request, the cabdriver took the scenic route to the congressman's office. During the drive, she saw D.C.'s massive white stone buildings, American flags waving on rooftops, tourists snapping photos, and street vendors selling everything from T-shirts and national landmark figurines to food of all sorts. Janae smiled broadly. She felt like there was a bloom inside her as brilliant as the cherry blossoms she glimpsed on the ride to Capitol Hill. Finally, she was on the right path in her life. Janae could see a future for her and her son.

Janae, Calvin, and Roger stood outside the Cannon House Office Building early for their meeting with the congressman. The wind licked at Janae's cheeks. Amazed at the journey that got her to this place, tears of relief welled up in her eyes, and she wiped at them quickly.
We are about to talk to one of the leaders of this country about Malik in order to help boys like him!

“I wish Malik could see this,” she said to no one in particular.

Calvin stopped talking to Roger and turned toward her. He put his hand on her forearm and spoke softly. “Then bring him, Janae.”

Janae nodded her head with increasing fervor. “I will . . . I definitely will bring him here.”

“The U.S. Supreme Court is just a few blocks over,” Roger chimed in, pointing over his shoulder. “We should definitely see it before we leave.”

“I would like that, a lot,” Janae said. “Could we swing by the White House, too? I wonder if First Lady Michelle Obama is home. That would be
friggin'
amazing.”

Roger and Calvin both smiled. “Anything else you want to see?” Roger offered and cocked an eye.

Janae smiled broadly in return. “I want to see it all.”

 

“CONGRESSMAN BUTLER, I WANT TO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TAKING THE time to see us,” Roger said as he followed the congressman into the heart of his office. Calvin and Janae brought up the rear.

The inner chamber of 235 Cannon House Office Building displayed a wooden framed replica of the U.S. Constitution immediately in view. Two American flags flanked the window, positioned directly behind the congressman's cluttered desk.

Calvin was tempted to get close enough to read the small type of the inch-thick document entitled
Case Studies of States' Efforts to Reduce Recidivism and Correctional Spending.

“Well, you didn't give me much choice, did you?” He turned to face Roger with a crooked smile.

“Oh, I take it, then, you had a chance to see what's been going on in Philadelphia,” Roger shot back, feigning embarrassment.

“I have. And I must say that I am intrigued by it. I'm sorry to hear that the court issued a summary judgment on your ESA claim.” Roger shrugged his shoulders, undaunted.

“But you still have the juvenile judge's declaration that he based his decision partly on race, don't you?” The congressman paused, deep in thought. With his voice pitched higher than before, he continued: “I don't think a judge has ever openly admitted to something like that in the history of the United States. Well, not since before the Civil War, anyway. And we have you to thank, don't we?”

“Well, yes you do.”

“Proud of that, are you?”

“I think
satisfied
, even
relieved
, is a better word, wouldn't you agree, Calvin?” Roger grabbed his partner's shoulder and gave it a hearty tug. “Let me introduce my cocounsel, Calvin Moore. He was first chair on the hearing before Judge McCormick. He is a rising star in the Philadelphia legal community. And this young lady is Janae Williams. She is our client's mother, and our newest human rights advocate.”

Janae smiled.

The congressman extended his right hand to Calvin, while addressing Roger: “So, are you grooming him to head the Center for Protection of Human Rights someday?” The congressman smiled at Calvin and then patted their handshake with his free hand. He moved closer to Janae and shook her sweaty palm. “Roger, I am very much aware of your human rights work. You have proven yourself relentless when you've found a cause worth fighting for. I suspect you won't be putting any less energy into this issue.”

“We will not be satisfied until some serious steps are taken to restructure the criminal justice system, particularly the juvenile justice system. And we are looking for the support of legislators like yourself in bringing this issue to all of the country.”

“Well, it's not like the Congress has been exactly silent on the issue. Right now, at this very moment, we are studying ways to help states reduce recidivism as well as cut the cost corrections. In just a few months we will be holding hearings on “Reinvesting in the Criminal Justice System” at the state and local levels. The goal of the bill will be for the federal government to assist local governments in coming up with data-driven policies to lower the cost of corrections while shifting more accountability to the offenders.”

Roger frowned, a tinge of disappointment in his eyes. “See, that's the problem. Sometimes you crunch the data without looking at the people, the children that are caught up in the system. Those ‘offenders' you mention are real live people. And until we address the human factor, all the data-driven policies in the world won't work. The human factor that is undeniable is that more and more young black males—boys—are being sent to prison.”

“Not without cause,” the congressman retorted.

Janae got the sense from the glint in his deep-brown eyes that he wasn't so much refuting Roger as he was wanting him to flesh out his argument.

“But, you know, those boys you mentioned are actually committing crimes. We are not rounding up black males for no reason. Crimes are being committed and justice must prevail.”

“Prevailing justice,” Roger echoed. “Exactly what does that mean when study upon study proves that the criminal justice system is rife with discriminatory practices at every stage? Does justice count only when it's the state seeking it? What about justice for all? These black boys are thrown in prison and when they get out, as grown men, they are essentially outcasts of society. As ex-convicts, society does with them what it will. It becomes legal and socially acceptable to deny them work, housing, public assistance, and even the right to vote. They can't do any of the things that we take for granted as normal. And then we question why they turn to a life of crime? We give them no other choice, that's why. The scary part is that they don't just disappear from the face of the earth”—he raised his voice. “Take our newest client, for example. He is not quite a teenager yet and is already accused of first-degree murder. For argument's sake, let's say he is convicted.” Roger shook his head even as the words came out of his mouth. “That's not going to happen”—the words jetted out of his mouth—“not on our watch. But . . .” Now he raised his arm as if to convince himself that he could go on with this example without it somehow jinxing the actual outcome. “But let's say he is convicted. Let's say he serves twenty, even thirty years. He still comes out a relatively young man. What is he going to do with himself? What choice does he really have but to commit crime to get the things he needs? There go your recidivism numbers right there. You lawmakers are being
ex-treme-ly
shortsighted.” Wide-eyed he said, “What are we doing? What kind of world are we creating? The minority will be the majority by 2050 and a significant portion of the men will be felons. You politicians always talk about not wanting to leave our country's debt to be paid by our children. What about the moral debt created by the hostile environment of our criminal justice system? Would you want to live in that world?”

“Easy, Roger, I'm sympathetic to your argument. But what's your solution?”

“There needs to be a complete paradigm shift in the juvenile justice system.”

The congressman rubbed the back of his head. “Exactly what does that mean?”

“It was Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. who said you cannot legislate people's hearts. But we sure as hell can create laws to prevent the rampant hidden racism that is currently in our juvenile justice systems. We can't wait for police officers, prosecutors, caseworkers, or judges to deal with or admit their personal biases as Judge McCormick did. But we damn sure can make them follow the law—new law, if ESA won't work. Black boys and the African-American community can no longer afford to be the target of bias in the justice system. No child should be waived to adult court. At the very least, we gotta start with the assumption that every child can be rehabilitated. It shouldn't matter what they look like or where they come from.” Roger shook his head. “You know, when the juvenile justice system was first established, the goal of it actually was rehabilitation. We've just lost our way since then. Race, ethnicity, and bias have complicated things.”

“So, what do you want from me.”

“Well, instead of those hearings you mentioned earlier, how about congressional hearings on how hidden racism in the juvenile justice system is a constant daily threat to African-American boys. Let's get some families to testify. We can present the undisputed evidence of the devastation in the black community and widespread implication for the entire country if nothing is done. We'll propose an alternative to the current juvenile justice system. One that will work.”

“I don't know. I don't know,” the congressman muttered as he sat perched on the edge of his desk.

Roger smiled inwardly. He'd seen that same uneasy reaction in Judge McCormick just days before.

Chapter Thirty

CALVIN STOOD IN JANAE'S DOORWAY WITH A BRIGHT SMILE THAT STRETCHED over his entire face. Even his body moved with levity as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “So, are you going to let me in?”

Janae tugged on the belt of her oversized pale pink robe to make sure it was secure. “Oh, of course, come in.”

Janae had just settled down to watch a movie. It wasn't until Malik's waiver hearing win that she dared to even try to do something normal. Tonight, there would be no guilt, she promised herself. Just her favorite chicken fried rice from the local Chinese restaurant, popcorn for dessert, and a movie that she had seen a thousand times.

“What is going on, Calvin?”

“This couldn't wait for normal business hours. And this is too good for a phone call,” he said, beaming.

Janae smiled. “What is it?”

“The bullet analysis. It came back. There's a match. The same gun that killed Troy was used to kill Michael.”

Janae's body ticked with excitement. “So, does this mean what I think it means? Does this prove it couldn't have been Malik?”

Calvin nodded. “It means the prosecution's case is falling apart. They can still try to argue that Malik ditched the gun after killing Troy and it was later used by someone else on Michael Gaines, but I don't think Judge McCormick will buy it for a second.”

His smile broadened and there was a twinkle in his eye. “That's not even the best part.”

An intense fusion of fear and hope showed itself as fine bumps on Janae's skin.

“They found partial fingerprints on the bullet casing at Michael Gaines's murder scene. The police database has isolated four potential matches.”

“Okay, okay . . .” She put her hand on her chest, her heart pounding.

“The police were able to track down potential matches. We believe Shaun G is among them. Tameka and Kim are at the police station right now. We're hoping Kim will be able to ID him.”

“This is incredible. Oh my God! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She rushed to the hallway closet, where the coats were stored. “Let's go get Malik. There's no reason for them to keep him, right?”

“No, not yet. Besides, you're not dressed.”

She looked down at herself as her hand fell from the doorknob, a wave of disappointment crashed over her. “I don't understand. They have to release Malik if they have Shaun G, don't they? I want my son!”

Calvin closed the distance between them. He stood behind her, inches away. He put his hand lightly on her shoulder. “We just have to be patient.”

Janae could feel a lump fill her throat. Her eyes swelled with tears. “How much longer do they expect me to wait to get my baby back? I can't take it anymore. I need him home with me.”

Calvin stooped behind Janae so that his mouth was inches from her ear. “He
is
coming home to you. Malik will finish high school, and go to college if that's what he wants.” He paused. “I want you to do the things you thought were impossible for your life.”

Janae pressed her eyes closed and breathed deeply. She leaned backward into his broad frame and rested. It felt like the first time she had rested in her entire life.

Calvin wrapped his arms around her. He moved his mouth closer to her ear. The sweet warmth of his breath comforted her. Janae turned her head slightly toward his, brushing her lips against his. She quickly turned away, pinching her lips.

“I love my son so much. I just want the chance to be a better mom for him.”

Calvin guided Janae until they faced each other. He eased her into his chest, fully embracing her. “You will. You already are.”

After a while, Janae pulled away slightly. “Could they really have Shaun G?”

Calvin cleared his throat, his arms lingering around her waist. “I feel good about it.”

“This is unbelievable. Should we head down there?”

“No. There's nothing we can do. Besides, it's going to take a few hours, I bet, before the lineup actually happens. The officer will call me if there is a positive ID. He'll call either way.”

Janae frowned, unsure. “Would you wait with me? I don't want to be alone.”

“That's why I'm here.” Calvin unbuttoned his coat and let it fall from his shoulders to his hands. He folded it over his arm and walked fully into her apartment.

Janae followed him. “I could make coffee.”

He nodded and turned back to her. “I'd like that.”

She tugged on her robe's collar. “Let me change and then I'll get that coffee.” She scrunched up her nose playfully.

After a while, Janae returned with two mismatched mugs. She handed him the one without the chip on the rim and sat down beside him. Self-conscious, she stood up again and began to tidy up the space around them. “I'm sorry. If I knew you would be here, I would have . . .” She moved a chair slightly to the left in order to block Calvin's view of a small hole in the wall.

“Relax, Janae.” He patted the sofa cushion next to him. “You don't have to apologize that this is your home.”

She sighed and then sat down.

“Before all this”—Calvin waved his hand in front of him, from his neck to his feet, drawing attention to his impressive choice of clothing; even dressed casually, he looked like he was going somewhere important—“before college and law school, I grew up about twenty minutes from here in Kingsessing.”

She gave him a knowing look. “How did you do it? How did you get out of there?”

Calvin looked pensive. “Ultimately, I believe that everyone controls their own destiny. Yeah, there's racism and even sometimes your own people can try to hold you back, but nothing can defeat a determined spirit.” He looked her in the eyes. “I worked hard, real hard. But I made mistakes, too.”

Janae's brow wrinkled.

“I chose not to deal with anything or anyone that even slightly resembled my past.” Calvin chuckled under his breath. “I called myself
beyond that
. Instead, I dressed right, I acted right, and I dated the right people. I got exactly what I wanted.”

Janae pressed her back into the sofa, unsure what to say.

“That's why it took me, um,
a minute
to join Roger on Malik's case. You and Malik reminded me too much of how I grew up.” He paused. “I'm glad I came to my senses, though.” His eyes met hers, again. “It was the best decision I've made in a long time.” He took a long swig of his coffee.

“Calvin . . .” She paused. Her finger circled the rim of her mug. “Calvin, a lot of successful people make the same choice you did. Who wants to come back to the hood when they've escaped it?”

Calvin shook his head. “That doesn't mean it's right. You remember at the restaurant you said you wanted Malik to be the kind of man I am?”

She nodded. “I meant it.”

“You have helped me see that I want to be the kind of man who stays and does what's right. Our community needs all the resourceful people it can to help save our children—to save all our lives.”

Janae closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

 

THEY TALKED FOR SEVERAL HOURS, UNTIL CALVIN'S CELL PHONE INTERRUPTED them. Before answering the call, he leaned over to the other end of the sofa and showed Janae the screen. The phone identified the call as coming from the Philadelphia district attorney's office. She dropped her legs from the sofa to the floor and planted them firmly beneath her. Calvin scooted forward with the phone to his ear. She moved closer to him.

“This is Calvin Moore,” he said with his eyes on Janae. “ADA Dembe. How can I help you?”

Janae gnawed at her bottom lip. She leaned closer to Calvin, her head nearly touching him. She tugged on his shirtsleeve and pleaded for information with her eyes.

He shook his head, stood, and walked to the kitchen. She slumped heavily into the soft surface of the sofa. She covered her face with her hands.

“That is completely unacceptable,” Calvin huffed. “I understand that the two cases are distinct. But you know as well as I do we are dealing with the same perpetrator, and I will not accept anything less than a total discharge.”

“The Michael Gaines murder is much more cut-and-dry,” ADA Dembe argued. “The partial fingerprints implicate someone else. I grant you that, and that is why I am filing the paperwork immediately for the charges to be dismissed against Jonathan King. He will be out of detention as early as tomorrow morning.”

“I am pleased that you are moving quickly on your error with regard to Mr. King. However, I expect the same paperwork to be filed on behalf of Malik Williams.”

“I am unwilling to do that at this time,” she retorted.

“Dembe, the standard is reasonable doubt. It's no longer reasonable for you to try him for the murder, not in light of the bullet analysis and the testimony at the waiver hearing. Are you aware of the lineup that—” Calvin looked down at his watch. “It should be taking place about now.”

“I am,” she hissed. “But even if your witness IDs this potential suspect, it only benefits Jonathan King, not Malik Williams. There's the whole issue of him arguing with the victim just hours before the murder,” she ticked off. “He had the motive. He could have dumped the gun. That's how I see it. I have won on far less.”

“Don't force our hand. This is already a PR nightmare for the mayor's office. Your officer essentially lied on the stand. And motive,
please
. There was testimony that completely contradicted the argument between my client and the victim.”

“By an addict,” she retorted.

“Look, we've already got the media's attention, as well as the ears of U.S. congressmen and senators. How do you think it will play out? ‘Local prosecutor, after flawed investigation, insists on condemning minority youth when evidence points to serial criminal and murder suspect who preys on kids'?”

“Are you threatening an officer of the court?”

“No, I am telling you exactly what we will do. What you know Roger and I are capable of.”

There was a long, awkward pause. Calvin could hear the prosecutor's exasperated breaths. “Before I do anything on this case, with everything swirling around it, I have to talk to the DA. That's going to have to wait until Monday.”

“Not good enough. Every day my client is behind bars is damaging to him. You have the DA's home number. Call him. This needs to end now. I'll wait for your call. But I am not waiting long.”