Due Process (Joe Dillard #9)(41)

I turned and looked at him.

“You’re going to pay for what you’re doing to these young men, you and that goon that’s helping you. That’s not a veiled threat. It’s a promise.”

“That’s enough,” Judge Neese said.

“Every one of these young men voluntarily gave DNA samples to the police, your Honor,” I said. “When the results of the testing came back from the TBI lab, there wasn’t a trace of DNA from any of them on or in the victim, who just happens to be a stripper and a prostitute. And Mr. Armstrong’s investigator, Bo Riddle, assaulted my client during his first interview. He kneed him in the testicles.”

“That’s an outrageous accusation!” Armstrong bellowed.

Judge Neese banged her gavel hard. It was the first time I’d ever seen her use the gavel.

“I said that’s enough,” she said sternly. “Let’s keep it civil. Mr. Dillard, do you waive the reading of the formal indictment?”

“We do.”

“How does your client plead?”

“Not guilty. Totally innocent. Railroaded.”

“Please don’t force me to hold you in contempt,” Judge Neese said.

“I’m sorry, your Honor. I’m angry about this one.”

“As you well know, there is no place for anger in a courtroom. You’re a respected and experienced attorney, Mr. Dillard. Frankly, I’m surprised you’d behave in such a manner.”

“You’ll understand my feelings more as this case proceeds,” I said. “At some point, I hope you’ll share my anger and put a stop to this charade.”

“You need to hold him in contempt, judge,” Armstrong said. “He keeps insulting the district attorney general’s office, the grand jury, the entire system.”

I wanted to tell Armstrong that I held him in contempt, but I’d pushed the envelope far enough. I’d walked in there wanting to make an impression on Judge Neese. I wanted to make sure she knew I was upset, that I thought Keven Davidson and his friends were being railroaded, and that something very wrong was going on with the district attorney general. I knew Judge Neese respected me. I’d known her for a long, long time. I knew her when she was a practicing attorney. I remembered when she got drunk and flashed her breasts at a raucous Christmas party many years earlier. I felt like I’d gotten her attention, and that she understood how strongly I felt about Kevin’s innocence. Mission accomplished. She would listen to me going forward.

“Mr. Demonte Wright,” the judge said. “Please step forward to the microphone.”

Demonte, a linebacker who had long dreadlocks and looked like he’d been carved from granite, shuffled forward.

“Have you spoken to an attorney, sir?” the judge said.

“I can’t afford a lawyer,” he said.

“What about you, Mr. Belle?” the judge said.

Evan Belle moved forward. His hair was long and unruly. He looked at the floor as he spoke.

“I can’t afford a lawyer, either,” he said.

Judge Neese turned to her clerk, was handed a couple of sheets of paper, and handed the papers to the bailiffs.

“I need both of you to fill these out,” she said. “They’re affidavits of indigency. List your assets and your debts and be truthful about it. If I find you’re unable to pay for a lawyer, I’ll appoint lawyers to represent you.”

“Can we talk about bail?” I said when the other two players shuffled over to a table at the side of the courtroom to fill out their forms.

“The state opposes bail,” Armstrong said.

“Of course you do,” I said, “but unfortunately for you, they’re entitled to a bail. This isn’t a capital murder case. My client was at the top of his class and has been accepted to law school, your Honor. Unfortunately, now that he’s been charged, ETSU will undoubtedly kick him out of school and his future in law school is threatened. He isn’t a flight risk. The case against him is as weak as any I’ve ever seen. His mother and father are paying his legal fees, which will more than likely be substantial if the case goes to trial. I’m just asking for a reasonable amount of bond so he doesn’t have to sit in jail while this plays out and so his parents aren’t forced into bankruptcy. I don’t represent the others who have been charged, but the case against them is as weak as the case against Mr. Davidson.”

“Mr. Armstrong?” the judge said.

“If you’re going to set a bail, the state asks for at least a half-million dollars,” he said.

“Totally unreasonable,” I said.

“Bond is set at seventy-five thousand dollars per defendant, cash or corporate surety,” the judge said.

“Does that mean I have to pay seventy-five thousand dollars to get out of jail?” Kevin whispered in my ear.

“No. You call a bail bondsman. He’ll charge you ten percent. It’ll cost your parents seventy-five hundred to get you out.”

“This is ridiculous,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry. It’s the best we can do for now.”

The other two players filled out their forms and passed them up to the judge. She looked them over and said, “All right, having reviewed these affidavits, I find both defendants to be indigent. Mr. Wright, I’m going to appoint the public defender’s office to represent you.”