Bronx Justice. Joseph Teller

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      “No, nothing really,” said the detective. “Says he’s innocent. Tell you what, counselor. I got one of the girls coming down this morning. She IDs him, or she doesn’t.” He shrugged. “If he’s not the guy, I don’t want him.” With that, he excused himself and walked into the courtroom.

      Jaywalker looked at his watch. It was a few minutes after ten. Court was supposed to begin at 9:30 a.m., but the judge hadn’t taken the bench yet. Nothing new there.

      Jaywalker took a minute to consider what he had. Rendell hadn’t given him much, but at least he’d added a few more facts to piece into the picture. There were five victims. At least one of them—the one who was on her way to court—apparently hadn’t seen Darren since the incident. Assuming it was Darren. Most of the rapes had occurred in August, a month ago. That could be good. But Rendell’s comment that he’d been looking for Darren sounded bad. It meant that Darren had been positively identified as the result of some sort of investigation. It also suggested that Darren might have been hiding out, trying to avoid arrest. Consciousness of guilt? That there were no admissions was good. If he was guilty, at least Darren had been smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

      Already Jaywalker could sense things shaping up as a classic identification case. Five women had been raped. Was Darren Kingston the man who had raped them?

      He reported his findings to the family. Then he went into the clerk’s office, filled out a Notice of Appearance and traded it for a copy of the complaint. Computers not yet having arrived in the courthouse, the complaint consisted of a preprinted form with the blanks filled in by someone using an ancient typewriter and a generous supply of carbon paper.

      Criminal Court of the City of New York

      Part A, County of The Bronx

      STATE OF NEW YORK

      ss.: FELONY COMPLAINT

      COUNTY OF The Bronx

      Joanne Kenarden, being duly sworn, deposes and says that on August 16, 1979, in the County of The Bronx, City and State of New York, the defendant(s) Darren Kingston committed the offense(s) of rape in the first degree and sodomy in the first degree under the following circumstances:

      Deponent states that at the above time and place defendant forcibly at knifepoint committed an act of sexual intercourse upon her without her consent, and also forced her to commit an act of oral sodomy. Knife not recovered.

      Sworn to before me

      …………………….

      ……………, 19….. Deponent

      ……………………

      Judge

      Jaywalker was reading it through for a second time when Inez Kingston walked up to him. “The detective just took Darren across the hall,” she said.

      Jaywalker followed her out of the clerk’s office. She pointed to a door, one without a sign. Jaywalker knocked on it. When there was no answer, he pushed it open. After all, he reasoned, there was no sign saying not to. Inside were Detective Rendell, Darren Kingston and a third man, who looked up and said, “Yes?”

      “I’m his lawyer,” said Jaywalker. “May I know what’s going on?”

      “Oh, sure.” The third man was young, thin and, when he stood up, closer to Jaywalker’s height than Rendell’s. His face was dominated by a black mustache. “My name is Jacob Pope,” he said. “I’m an assistant district attorney in the Mob.”

      “The Mob?” echoed Jaywalker. It struck him as a curious affiliation.

      “The Major Offense Bureau. I was just about to ask Mr. Kingston some questions regarding pedigree, for bail purposes. I didn’t realize he had an attorney.”

      Jaywalker looked back and forth from Pope to Rendell. One of them was playing dirty here—Pope, if Rendell had told him about Jaywalker, Rendell if he’d neglected to. A prosecutor was strictly forbidden from speaking with a defendant who had a lawyer unless the lawyer was present or gave his express permission. And pedigree was just a fancy way of describing a series of questions that began with name and address and ended with, “Where’d you hide the body?”

      Darren was seated, his wrists handcuffed in his lap. Jaywalker had forgotten how good-looking he was. Model good-looking, almost. “How’re you doing, Darren?” he asked him.

      “N-n-n-not so good.”

      The stutter. Jaywalker had forgotten that, too. Darren had a severe stutter that grew worse when he became nervous. Jaywalker turned to Pope. “Can you give me a moment with my client?” he asked. “Then maybe we’ll talk to you.”

      “Sure,” said Pope. “Go right ahead.” But neither he nor Rendell made any move to give them privacy.

      “Can we take the cuffs off?” Jaywalker asked.

      Pope nodded at the detective, who produced a key and removed the handcuffs. Darren rubbed each wrist in turn. Jaywalker waited until Pope and Rendell had walked to the far end of the room. Then he positioned himself between Darren and them, giving them his back. It wasn’t much, but it was as good as it was going to get.

      As quietly as he could, he asked Darren what was going on.

      “I don’t know. They say I r-r-r-raped a bunch of women. I didn’t do anything like that. I don’t know anything about it.”

      “Darren, they’ve got five women who say you’re the guy. I’m here to help you, a hundred percent. I can help you if you’re innocent. But understand this—I can also help you if you’re guilty. There are hospitals, there are sexual offender programs.” There were; it wasn’t a complete lie. “The only way I can’t help you,” Jaywalker went on, “is if you don’t tell me. So you’ve got to try to trust me.” He wanted to add “and start telling me the truth.” But he didn’t. Not yet, anyway.

      Darren’s eyes met Jaywalker’s. “I do trust you, Jay.” His use of the name brought a smile to Jaywalker’s face. A year ago, it had taken him a long time to get Darren to stop calling him Mr. Jaywalker. But Jaywalker had insisted. If he was going to address his clients by their first names—and he did, always—then they were going to do the same with him. Not that Jay was really his first name. But when your parents hang Harrison Jason Walker on you, you’re happy to settle for Jay. Or, as a few of his Hispanic clients pronounced it, Yay.

      “Good,” said Jaywalker.

      “But you gotta trust me, too, Jay. I d-d-didn’t do this.”

      Jaywalker nodded. He knew it was useless to push at this point. He decided to let Darren answer Pope’s questions in his presence. It was his hope to learn a few things, while giving up nothing in return. At the same time, he was looking for any edge he could get. He knew that Pope’s recommendation on bail would carry a lot of weight with the judge.

      After learning that Darren was twenty-two, married, living with his wife, the father of one child and expecting another, Pope moved on to Darren’s employment.

      “You work for the post office, right?”

      “Right.”

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