Magical Madison #4

I opened the file with a sigh, the way I always did now.

What did this one do? I thought to myself.

I was jaded. I'd been working at the public defender's office for almost five years now, and this was just another night at arraignments.

Male, 28, criminal possession of marijuana.

Great, another drug case.

Male was found in the attic of an abandoned building in Harlem.

What was he doing there?

Police Officer found 14 dime bags of marijuana with suspect.

No criminal record in New York.

Okay, that's good.

I went in the back to speak to him.

"Hi, I'm Chelsea and I'm going to be your lawyer."

He was nice looking. Well dressed. And when he opened his mouth and began to speak, I knew immediately, he wasn't from around here. A tourist. The southern accent dripped off every word.

I always felt sorry for the tourists who came to New York and got arrested and spent one of their vacation nights in jail.

"So, why don't you tell me what happened here."

He described the story. He and a friend had come to New York City from Birmingham, Alabama and were looking for something fun to do, an introduction to New York. It was their first time in New York. They met a girl on the subway platform. She seemed like a nice girl and she was so friendly and welcoming to them, and they were just tourists. She told them there was a party in Harlem. She told them to meet her on Lenox Avenue. She had been so sweet.

Were all Southerners this naïve? He seemed genuine, but there was something a little off about him. I couldn't put my finger on it.

So she met up with them at the corner as promised. She had a friend with her and the four of them proceeded to this attic in an abandoned building. He asked if they were allowed to be there; she said, "It's cool."

They got upstairs and she said it was where she kept her "stash." She pulled out the marijuana, all nicely divided into little dime bags. She dumped out one of the dime bags and rolled a joint. She passed it along to him. He didn't usually smoke, but this time he decided to. It was really a one-time thing. The drugs weren't even his.

Maybe he really was telling the truth.

"Okay, well we're going to go before the judge soon, so I will try to get you out of here tonight. If they offer you a plea, maybe you should take it, okay?"

He nodded and said, "Yes ma'am."

I started to like him and feel sorry for him. He was just a tourist and the drugs weren't even his. I was starting to think I really had been too quick to judge.

"Docket Ending in 4356" the Court Officer yelled out. That was us.

I argued the case before the Judge and although the prosecutor was recommending jail time, the judge agreed to let him take a plea and get out that night.

After we were done, he thanked me and the judge, and left the courtroom.

Following a long night of arraignments, I headed home. I needed to unwind, so I flipped on the TV. The news was on and I let it play in the background as I went to grab a beer.

"A woman was brutally murdered tonight, found outside the criminal courthouse. The murder follows the same M.O. as a series of twelve murders throughout the country."

I wandered back into the living room, only halfheartedly listening.

“The suspect is a 25-30 year old white male who was last seen exiting the courthouse, here is a police sketch as described by a witness.” I looked up. It was him.