A Family Affair!

"I was told that it was a tip," the policeman replied.

"Did you find any other illegal material in your search of the house?" my lawyer asked him calmly.

"No Sir, we did not," he replied.

"Did you look for anything else in the house?" he asked.

"No Sir," the cop replied.

"Why not?" my lawyer asked.

The cop told the court that the cocaine was the only thing mentioned in the search warrant, so that was all they were looking for.

"How long did it take you to find this cocaine?" my lawyer asked him.

"Actually, it was hidden in the first place we looked," the cop replied.

"That was convenient," the lawyer replied sarcastically, "how did you manage that?"

"Just a lucky guess, I suppose," he replied.

"Did you have custody of the evidence from the time that it was found, until such time as it was booked in the evidence lock up?" he asked.

"Yes Sir," he replied.

"The evidence never left your hands?" my lawyer asked the cop, sounding as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"No Sir," the cop replied firmly.

My lawyer picked up the evidence, and handed it to the cop. "Is this the bag of cocaine you found?" he asked.

"Yes Sir," was the reply.

"Did you examine this package for fingerprints?" the lawyer asked.

"No," the cop replied.

The next witness was the policeman who had stood just inside the door as my arrest was going down. He confirmed that the cocaine was found in the first place that his partner looked. He actually saw him retrieve the cocaine from it's hiding place, and he said that once he had it in his possession, it remained in his possession.

The next witness was the big cop that had broken the door down.

He was asked questions about why they were there, and what they did when they got there by the prosecutor.

My lawyer asked him how they gained access to my home, and he replied that he had been forced to knock the door down with his shoulder. When questioned why he would do that, he told the court that sometimes the evidence would be destroyed unless entry was gained quickly.

"When you say that you were forced to knock the door down, is that because your superior felt it was taking too long to gain access to the house, and ordered you to break it down?" my lawyer asked him.

"No, I broke it down because it was taking too long to get in," he said.

"Did you see your partner retrieve the cocaine from the chair?" he asked.

"Yes," was all he said.

"After your partner retrieved the cocaine, did he retain the package in his hands," the lawyer asked.

"Yes, he kept it in his possession until he got into the squad car," he replied.

After the four cops testifying, you could see that the prosecution felt that they had the case made. After all four cops to lonely little me, and courts very rarely accept testimony from defendants at face value.

When my lawyer called me to the stand, there were some surprised looks in the courtroom.

When I was sworn in, my lawyer asked me to explain exactly what had happened in my home when I was arrested.

I explained that I was working at my computer in a room that was at the back of the house and to the left of the place where the police had come in the house. The first thing that I knew, I heard an awful noise, and when I investigated, I found that this big policeman had knocked my door down. The door was in their way and they were throwing it out into the front yard. Then the second policeman went directly to the easy chair which was located in the living room, to the right of the entrance, pulled the cushion out of the chair and found the cocaine there.

At first, I was in the hall, sort of behind the police. They had not noticed me there until the cop with the cocaine in his hand turned around, spotted me, and tossed the package to me. I could have caught the package, but didn't want to put my fingerprints on the plastic, and let it fall to the floor.

The cop retrieved the package, I was handcuffed, my rights read to me, and I was placed in the back seat of a squad car.

I was very concerned about leaving the house open with the front door knocked right off, so I asked to speak to the person in charge. The sergeant came to the back door of the car and I expressed to him the concern that I had with regard to someone looting my house and the expensive equipment I had. He told me that it was likely money from a crack house anyway, and laughed. I threatened to hold him responsible, and sue him if anything was missing.

"Did you know that the cocaine was in your house?" the lawyer asked me.

"No, I had no idea there was any cocaine in the house," I replied firmly.

"Do you know how it got there?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, just as firmly.

"You just told the court that you had no idea that there was cocaine in the house, and yet you are telling me now that you know how it got there, can you explain this apparent contradiction."

"Yes Sir I can," I told him and went on to explain Art's visit to my place only two days before the raid, and went on to explain what had happened, telling the court that I had bought drugs from Art several years earlier when I was using.

"Were there any witnesses to this visit you describe?" he asked.

"Yes Sir, there were four people visiting my home at the time, my father's wife, her two children and her sister," I told him.

"Can you explain to the court what happened at that time," my lawyer asked.

"Surely," I replied. "As I told you, my father's wife and children were visiting me. The baby started fussing and I had to go to the bathroom at the same time. Art came to the door while I was in the bathroom and my father's wife was in the kitchen preparing a bottle for the baby."

"Her sister answered the door, and when the visitor said that he wanted to see me, she invited him in, and he sat in the big easy chair in the living room. Her sister came into the room a few moments later, and I made my appearance shortly after that."

"I introduced the ladies to Art, we made small talk for a few minutes about nothing in particular, and he left a few minutes later. I thought that he might have wanted to talk to me, wondering if I might be interested in buying some drugs."

My lawyer put ollie on the stand next, and then asked her to tell the court what had happened when this individual known as Art had come to the door.

Ollie began, "My sister's baby began to fuss. She said that he was probably hungry, and went to the kitchen to heat a bottle for him. I happened to see this man coming up the sidewalk toward the house, so I called out to Junior that he had company."

"I answered the door, and when he said that he wanted to see Junior, I told him to take a seat in the living room. I told him that Junior had gone to the bathroom, and would be with him an a moment or two."

"Junior came out of the bathroom, called him Art, and they talked for several minutes. Although I wasn't really paying much attention to the conversation, it seemed to me that they were only making small talk. Junior introduced Art to myself and my sister as someone that he had gone to high school with. He left shortly after that."

"When he was gone, Junior told us that when he had been using drugs, Art had been one of his suppliers. He wondered to us whether Art was still dealing in drugs, or not?"

The lawyer then asked, "Was there any talk between Junior and Art about drugs?"

"Absolutely not," Ollie replied, "the conversation was more about people they knew or had known in the past."

The lawyer walked over to where the evidence was displayed, picked up the plastic bag and asked Ollie whether she had ever seen it before. She replied that she had never seen it before.

He asked her again whether she had seen this bag in Art's possession.

She replied no, she had never seen it before.

The lawyer walked over to the witness box, and asking her to pick up and feel the bag, he then asked her if in her opinion Art would have had time to hide the bag in the chair where he was sitting.

Ollie replied, "Yes of course. Not when he was talking to Junior, but he was sitting in the big chair for more than a minute before Junior came out of the bathroom. I was looking after my sister's children, not watching him.

The lawyer asked what he called a final question, "In your opinion, having witnessed the meeting between Art and Junior, would you say that it was some time since their last meeting?"

"When Junior came out of the bathroom, he seemed quite friendly to Art, walked up to him, shook his hand and both of them said that it must have been a couple of years since the last time they had met. After Art had gone, Junior told us that he had kicked the drug habit about three years ago, and Art had been one of his suppliers."

Ollie was excused, and Molly took her place, and after she had been sworn in, my lawyer began asking her questions.

"Where were you when Art came to the door?" the lawyer asked.

"I was in the kitchen," she replied.

The lawyer wanted to know what she was doing in the kitchen.

"I was heating a bottle for my baby," Molly replied.

"Where was your sister at that time?" the lawyer asked.

"She was in the living room with my children when this man came to the door. When he told her that he wanted to see Junior, she let him come in and sit in the living room."

"Could you see what was happening when all of this was taking place," the lawyer asked her.

"No, I couldn't see anything," Molly responded, "but I could clearly hear everything."

"Where was Junior when this was taking place?" he asked.

"He was in the bathroom, and he came out about a minute later to talk to Art," she replied.

"Were you in the living room when Junior came from the bathroom?" she was asked.

"I really don't recall. As I stated earlier, I could hear everything that transpired, but I was more interested in taking care of my baby, but we arrived in the living room at approximately the same time," Molly told the court.

"Did you see Junior shake hands with Art?" the lawyer asked.

"Objection," the prosecutor interjected, "counsel is leading the witness."

"Sustained," the judge said.

"What can you tell the court about the meeting between Art and Junior?" the lawyer asked.

"Not very much at first because I was concerned with taking care of my baby. All I can say is that they seemed friendly, like two old friends meeting for the first time in a while. Later when I got the baby settled down, Junior introduced us to Art, telling us that they had gone to school together. After Art had gone, Junior told us that Art had supplied him with drugs, when he was using. My sister and I didn't much like Art, and told Junior so," Molly concluded.

6

Taking the package of cocaine evidence in his hand, the lawyer presented it to Molly and asked her if she had ever seen it before?

"No, I have never seen that before, and there was no mention of cocaine at Junior's house either," Molly told my lawyer.

The lawyer then urged Molly to take the package in her hands, bounce it around a bit and venture an opinion as to whether Art could have hidden the package in the big chair.

"Not while I was in the room, there were three of us with Art, and it would seem unlikely that he could have done anything like that during that time," Molly concluded.

That was the end of my lawyer's questioning, and Molly was turned over to the prosecutor for questioning.

"Do you and your sister visit Junior, as you call him, very often?" he asked.

While the witnesses were kept out of the court room except when they were testifying, I remained in the court room throughout the trial. I was sitting there when the prosecutor asked his question, and I wondered where he was going with this line of questioning? I hoped we were not in for a nasty surprise.

If Molly was surprised, she surely didn't show it, and she replied, "Yes, my sister and I like to take my children out two or three times a week, and very often we stop in at Junior's, he likes to see and play with the children too. Occasionally, my husband will go along with us, but he is usually doing something else."

Speaking very slowly, and trying to speak distinctly, the prosecutor asked, "What was the purpose of your visit on the day in question. Let me remind you that you are still under oath and are required to tell the truth under penalty of law!" making his statement sound like some sort of a threat.

Oh, oh, I thought. I wonder what he is on to now?

"Objection," my lawyer interjected, "I don't know where the prosecution is going with this, but I can't think of any useful direction."

"Objection sustained." Fixing a baleful look on the prosecutor, the judge continued, "perhaps you could tell me why this witness has to be reminded that she is still under oath and must tell the truth."

"Considering the reputation of these two, I thought it appropriate," the clearly annoyed prosecutor responded.

"Let me remind you," the somber faced judge turned to face the prosecutor, "if you have any knowledge that this or any witness has a predisposition to committing perjury, it is your duty to make the court aware of all the details. However if your motive was to taint this witness' testimony, you should be aware that is not allowed."

Turning toward Molly, the judge said "The question was, what was the purpose of your visit on the day in question?"

Molly replied, "I didn't think you needed to have a purpose for a family visit, your Honor."

The judge turned to the clerk recording the session and said, "Let the record show, for a family visit."

With that, the trial was brought to a close, subject only to the lawyer's summation. The defense lawyer would state his case first, and then the prosecuting attorney had the opportunity to sum up the case as he saw it.

The whole affair was very carefully choreographed to avoid errors that could be appealed at a latter date. It being late in the day anyway, it was determined that court would break now and continue it's deliberations tomorrow morning.

I drove the girls to mom's place, had a cup of coffee there while mom questioned me about the case. Then I drove Molly and the children to dad's place. It's totally unlike me to let anything get in the way of sex, but I have to admit that I was so wrapped up in the goings on of the trial that it never occurred to stop somewhere with the girls for a sex stop.

It didn't matter that I was innocent, or the way the police had conducted themselves, I knew others who were doing heavy time, still proclaiming their innocence.

The girls for their part, didn't seem so worried, but then they wouldn't have to do the time, I would, and I could just see my career that was just starting to take off, go down the drain. It didn't seem fair somehow.

I was surprised when Molly came over very late. She told me that dad had just gone to bed, and the children were both sleeping, so she had time for a quickie. She said that I really looked like I needed something to cheer me up, and she certainly was right about that.

Molly's idea of a quickie was quick alright, but involved some of the wildest sex imaginable. But she did manage to take my mind off of the court case, and when she left I quickly dropped off to sleep.

In the morning, dad was in court with the girls. Since the trial was finished, the girls could be in the audience, and there they were, sitting with my dad.

When the court opened, and the judge was settled on the bench, the procedures of the court were taken care of, and then my lawyer began his summation of the case. "Your honour," he began. "This case is probably the most blatant case of a defendant being 'set up' that has been my misfortune to come across."

"We have to ask why the police broke the defendant's door down instead of simply turning the knob and walking in. Was it to hurry things up as has been testified or was it a theatrical ploy to create the image of a real crack house, with a locked door."

"Then we have to ask why the police constable was able to go directly to the evidence! A damning bit of evidence of this unholy conspiracy."

"And finally, we have to ask why a proper search of the house was not carried out? This was a set up, not a legitimate police investigation. If they were really investigating a crack house, they would have searched the house thoroughly, looking for other places that drugs may have been secreted. The police knew what they were looking for, where it had been planted, and that there were no other drugs in the house."

"Ask yourself what legitimate reason the policeman would toss the evidence to a suspect, but to get their fingerprints on it. Ask again why the fact that the defendant's fingerprints were not found on the evidence was not introduced in evidence? You can be sure it would have been if his fingerprints had been found on the package."

"Then we have to ask why the police would cooperate with a known drug trafficker to incriminate a productive member of society whose only crime was a flirtation with drugs in his youth? Was it for brownie points for the police or something more sinister? Was the prosecution in on this too? they couldn't help noticing the stench associated with this case if they tried."

"And finally, your honor, the defendant was indeed fortunate that a family visit gave him the witnesses to refute what otherwise would probably have been an open and shut conviction, and a crime against justice."

With the conclusion of his summation, my lawyer returned to our table and it was the prosecution's turn.

"Your honor," the prosecutor began. "This is indeed an open and shut case. The police receive a tip. They raid the home, find illegal drugs there, and arrest the occupant. What can be more open and shut than that?"

"The defense has done little if anything to dispute these facts, and has come up with a fanciful tale by three dubious witnesses."

"Objection!" my lawyer got to his feet.

"Objection sustained," the judge said, and looking at the prosecutor, told him. "You cannot cast aspersions against witnesses unless you present adequate evidence to back up your allegations."

"Very well your honour. To continue, this fanciful tale could be no more than Junior taking delivery of his crack order in an unconventional manner when unforseen visitors happen along. By his own testimony Junior told the court that he used drugs and bought them from his friend Art, and now he asks us to believe that he has kicked the habit years ago.

"Your honor," the prosecutor began, "it is time to separate the wheat from the chaff, look at the facts of this case to separate them from the wishful thinking of the defence and declare the defendant guilty!"

With that the prosecutor sat down, looking satisfied. The judge shuffled some papers for a minute, conferred with one of the court clerks in whispers, and set the date for the judge's verdict at a week later. The court was adjourned, and we all left. To me, it seemed like such an utter waste of time, going to the trouble of opening the court with all of the people that entailed, and then the trouble for the witnesses, the observers, for only a few minutes, and then doing it all over again seven days later.

I mused to myself the we always heard that the wheels of justice grind slowly. I just hoped that they would grind out justice while they were at it. As I went to bed I was thinking that I had been left to stew for another week. I tried to work in the morning, but nothing came to me, thoughts of my impending fate filled my mind.

The girls dropped in about mid-morning telling me that they came over to cheer me up, they tried, and they had a good argument, but the sex didn't cheer me up either. I had a bad case of the what-ifs.

In a couple of more days, I had pretty well gotten over worrying about what might happen, and was getting some work done. The girls came over in the afternoon with the kids. I gave the girls a good fucking, both in the missionary position and played with the kids for nearly an hour. That got me going, it was hard to think of negative things with those kids around. With my creative abilities back up to speed, and the loving ministrations of the girls, every aspect of my life was back to normal by the end of the week.