Life Without Hope (57 page)

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