Page 25 of Precise Justice

“Talk to mom. She has his balls in her purse.”

Marc, somewhat taken aback by Robbie’s answer about his father, said, “Okay, I’ll call your mom. Priscilla?”

“Yeah.”

“The Juvie court is just down the street from here. It’s connected so they’ll get you there. I’ll see you then. We’ll try to get you out with no bail. From what I was told, they’re gonna try to move you into adult court.”

“Would I go to prison?” Robbie asked, his voice cracking.

“You’re getting way ahead of yourself. We have a great case of self-defense. You’re lucky you only hit him once and there are witnesses. Relax, you’ll be safe in here tonight. In any case, no one’s going to send you to an adult prison. Don’t worry about it.”

ELEVEN

Dear Diary:October 24th

I’m back home tonight after spending a night in jail. It was a really scary situation.

I was kept in what they call segregation. That protected me from the thugs in general population. If this is what jail for juveniles is like, prison for adults must be a nightmare.

I had a really good lawyer. He knew the other lawyer, a woman named Jennifer something. And he knew the judge. My lawyer’s name is Marc Kadella and he is super good. Mother tried to run things but he, Marc, wouldn’t let her.

I was never so embarrassed in my life. I had to stand in front of the judge, Eason, and plead not guilty. There I was dressed like a girl when the clerk read off my name as Robert. I wanted to crawl in ahole. When she said my name there was laughter coming from the crowd. The judge even had to rap his wood hammer a couple times to shut them up.

The judge read me my rights and asked if I understood them. They talked about bail. The judge said $5000. Mother Dear wrote them a check and we got out of there.

“I have good news and bad news,” Marc told Robbie and Priscilla.

After making bail they had taken the elevator down to the second-floor atrium of the government center. Marc led them to a secluded place to talk to let them know what was going on.

“I was going to get witness statements from everyone who was in the study hall at the time. I hoped that if they all gave the same story, self-defense, we could get this dismissed. From what Jennifer Moore told me…”

“She is?” Priscilla asked.

“The prosecutor. The young woman who was in court this morning.”

“Okay,” Priscilla said. “What did she tell you?”

“The county attorney himself, Craig Slocum, is a personal friend of Harold Lane, the bully’s father. From what Jennifer told me, Lane’s trophy wife, the mother, is kicking Harold’s ass to go for the death penalty.”

“What!?” Robbie asked.

“Relax. We don’t have it and you won’t get it for third degree assault.

“On top of that, Slocum has a grudge against me, personally,” Marc said.

“Why?” Priscilla asked.

“We did a serious case against each other last year. The serial killer case,” Marc told them.

“I remember it,” Priscilla said.

“Slocum tried the case himself. He convinced himself that when he won that case, he would be the next governor. He lost and was furious about it. Still is. And worse, it turned out that the guy was really guilty and I got him acquitted. That made Craig Slocum look even worse.

“Because of that you may want someone else. I can easily get you a new lawyer…”

“I want you,” Robbie said.

“…but that wouldn’t solve the problem. Slocum still has to kiss the butts of his buddy’s law firm. Rockford, Bass is a big, politically connected firm.”

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