Chapter 7
Sterling is angry. He is not especially angry at the man who had him brought here, the man sitting behind the expansive wooden desk. A very impressive desk, perhaps antebellum. The man is less impressive today, though; he is dressed like it is a Friday dress down. Maybe with a Zegna and a shave, he’d look more impressive. But now he doesn’t look like he’d be capable of selling a free lunch to a starving jury. He had seemed much more impressive on his campaign posters when he had been an unsuccessful candidate a few years back. It is clear, seeing him in person, that he had definitely been Photoshopped for political purposes. The billboards had him with a youthful head of hair, substituting for the depressing reality: he is apparently loosing combfuls on an almost daily basis. A comb-over will be less than a year away. Nor is Sterling angry at the young cops – Ben, Suhail and Betty – who have deposited him as instructed and then gone to their respective homes to do whatever young off-duty cops do when they’re not keeping the peace by intimidating the public. They were just following orders, like the proverbial death camp guards. That Ben’s eye had already begun to smart from Sterling’s instinctive elbow was a matter for only delayed concern. He cannot be charged with resisting arrest since he hasn’t been formally arrested. At least he hasn’t been Mirandized, which amounts to the same thing. In any case he’d ask his father to give Ben a bottle of Agiorghitiko from Nemea (his grandfolks had given them a case) as compensatory damages for the totally instinctive elbow. That is, once he is able to speak to his father. Nor is Sterling angry at the dressed-down man’s secretary who sports a rather perturbed face, perhaps because as a salaried county employee she does not qualify for overtime. Having to spend Sunday evening of Memorial Day weekend in the otherwise empty, and thus colder and danker than usual, county courthouse deprives her of the single spot on her weekly calendar earmarked for spending time with her grandchildren. Sterling is an infringement. That would not endear him to her. He sort of recognizes this woman’s face; maybe this lady has attended some school function, he isn’t sure (his perfect memory doesn’t extend to faces). Nine o’clock on a Sunday night is no time for anyone to be in an office, certainly not in a public office. Not even the janitors need to work Sunday evenings. None of that, however, makes him angry. What upsets him is all the production value that had been assigned to this little drama: handcuffs, three policemen, crowd of photo-phone snapping friends, etc. Couldn’t he have just been asked to come over here; it’s only a few minutes’ walk from The Sterling. Obviously the miserably mantled man is sending him a message; Sterling doesn’t like unsolicited messages.
Save for the lone security guard downstairs, the Durham County Judicial Building is devoid of most humanity this evening except for three people: Sterling whose actions have convoked this meeting; county District Attorney “Smilin’ Jack” John Miles, who is actually convoking the meeting; and his assistant, the older woman whom Sterling has mistakenly assumed to be his secretary. She is in fact the lead attorney on the case, which is represented by the legal-sized manila folder that lies in front of her on her boss’s desk. The folder is crisp, almost virginal; at this point it has only the beginnings of a docket number, printed in bold: GJ-05-05-07-. Miles is the interim district attorney for the state’s 14th prosecutorial district, usually an elected office, but in the wake of the scandal involving an earlier occupant, the infamous Mike Nifong, it has gone fallow from time to time and has had to be reseeded from the state’s pool of available prosecutorial types, sort of a temp agency for ambitious politicos. Miles was appointed to the job a few months back.
Let no one deny that Mr. Miles has a wandering eye on politics. Whenever he can, he stands in front of the cameras to announce to his potential constituents that he is doing his utmost to keep bad guys off the street and behind bars. It is for that very reason that Sterling sits in front of him. He sees in the boy not just a lanky teenager, no better or worse than the average punk he has to deal with. Given his impressive school record and solid middle class background, one would suppose that this boy has a clean record. One would figure that the background check by his assistant would have produced no history of run-ins with the law. The thick file in front of him begs to differ. Miles is now reviewing the last few pages of that vast file. It seems strange to Miles that a kid this young can have accumulated such a record, without actually having a record. Did the Durham police force stick a target sign on his back and enjoy harassing him? “Traffic Court Comedy;” “Father Arrests Son;” “Youth Gang Charged – Could Lose Licenses Before Old Enough To Drive” read a few of the newspaper clippings – the file folder brims over with such indications that this teen has a mischievous streak about him that differs from that of the common hoodlum. Now that he has read the file, Miles wished it had been prepared for him before he had interviewed Sterling the previous meeting. The historical record does not augur well for what might happen in the grand jury session. This boy is extremely difficult to read, and perhaps he will not be the reliable the witness Miles had once expected. More like a loose cannon, which is why this meeting is so important. Still, on paper, Sterling has had no convictions; he should be credible; he’s handsome in a Southern European kind of way; he could well be a sterling witness for the grand jury. Smilin’ Jack smiles at his own pun. And if Sterling continued his obstinacy, he’d just elevate him from witness to subject. Let him plead the Fifth; he’ll get him either way.
Three types of people appear before grand juries: witness, subject and target. A witness has information related to the investigation but is not under any suspicion. A target is someone who will probably be charged. A subject lies somewhere in between: a person who has engaged in suspicious conduct but, since the DA is not yet sure if a crime can be established, the prosecutor is looking for more information before the target nomenclature can be used. In local as well as federal grand jury proceedings witnesses are subpoenaed and do not have a constitutional right to have counsel present during the proceedings. Refusing to testify by invoking the Fifth Amendment against self-incrimination red flags the prosecutor and the witness is then often considered a target.
This is the second time that Sterling and Mr. Miles have met. It has been the District Attorney’s pleasure and honor to have conferred with the lad two weeks earlier. It was agreed then that Sterling would return a few days later to receive some papers and sign some documents. Just a formality; no appointment necessary. The papers rest in the folder in front of Mrs. Abernathy, and they still have not been signed. In fact, it appears to Mr. Miles that Sterling has been avoiding him. The boy had not responded to numerous emails, texts, faxes and phone calls placed by Mrs. Abernathy. It is as if he has removed himself from all communicative media. Mrs. Abernathy is particularly perturbed that she had not even been transferred to voice-mail; rather she had received a curt message that the cell was not receiving a signal. How, she wondered could she get the message that it was not receiving a signal unless it was receiving her signal in the first place. Nevertheless, she suspected the boy used caller ID and had blacklisted her number, or rather any number dialed from the court house. She has a sly granddaughter who does the same sort of thing whenever her parents want her to do a chore. “Out of cell range,” she always explains. Also Mrs. Abernathy became most annoyed when a registered letter to Sterling was returned: “refused by recipient.”
The grand jury is to convene Tuesday morning with only two operating days before its term runs out. The term, which had been extended to its maximum length of 24 months, will expire and not even an act of God can prolong its life; any unresolved business will necessarily be lost. If a DA wishes, the next impaneled grand jury can begin from scratch any work unfinished by its predecessor. It cannot, however, have access to testimony or deliberation done by the former. A new grand jury is scheduled to be empowered the following week, but Miles wants to get the ball rolling so the court case can begin in October. (The election is No
vember.) In addition Mr. Miles prides himself in being a closer; DAs who leave their grand juries with opened files subject their management abilities and very competence to attack by political rivals. Yes, the squad car and handcuffs were a bit of overkill. Yet the kid needed to realize the serious nature of this matter. Anyway, Miles had the parents’ permission; and who knows a child better than its parents. Obviously, this kid is quiet stubborn. Miles had sent him a muscular message; he knew it had been received.
Certainly, if he were honest to himself, Sterling would plead guilty to the charge of avoiding the DA. Of course he knew the courthouse was trying to get in touch with him. He had received and faithfully ignored all texts and faxes, and he had refused to allow them onto his voice-mail. It was his phone; he has the right to refuse access. He had also told the postman not to deliver the registered letter – “Uncle Sterling went back to Greece, deported I think; this is the American address he gave immigration” – figuring that the letter would be marked as “undeliverable;” he had not realized that the postman would tick the box for “refused” not believing that such an uncle even existed. Sterling does not know much about the workings of the Post Office; he avoids pieces of paper. All in all he figured he could just sluff off this matter, this minor nuisance. He had also told a process server that Sterling didn’t live there anymore, a story apparently accepted. At the moment he was still in the clear. He had never formally received the subpoena; that’s what they wanted his signature for, to acknowledge receipt of the subpoena. Thus, he had not yet been served. Once the grand jury’s term expires in a few days, he will be home free. Of course, another grand jury could be convened, but Sterling figures this to be unlikely as it would little benefit the political career of the DA. A new grand jury would not have sufficient time to deal with this case; there are surely witnesses other than Sterling; and the jury has other matters on its plate, homicides and the like, that are more urgent. The matter involving Sterling is, in his humble opinion, not anywhere on the main road of justice, merely an unimportant detour that this particularly obsessed jury and this particularly ambitious DA are enjoying.
District Attorneys handle or manage grand juries, but since the jury meets only one or two days a month, it takes some time for the members to get a working rapport with their de facto supervisor. The jurors’ job is to produce indictments based on “probable cause” – a reasonable ground to believe a crime occurred. They don’t have to deliberate as seriously as a petit (or trial) jury, the body that must ultimately produce an actual verdict of guilt or innocence. The grand jury issues an indictment, not a conviction, and although they can cause people a lot of grief, they cannot do much irreparable damage (like a wrongful conviction). Anyway, most of their indictments are based on the DA’s evidence which seems pretty straight forward (the DA does not obfuscate, which is a job for the attorneys for the defense!), for felonies such as homicide, rape, child abuse and the like. Grand jury indictments earn a high conviction rate, which of course varies district to district, DA to DA. At the federal level it’s somewhere between 95%-98%. Even when grand juries fail to indict, a DA can pursue a case. North Carolina is one of 23 states that require grand jury indictments for serious crimes. No way Sterling is involved in a serious crime, he believes. But there is a stronger case, psychologically at least, if there’s a grand jury indictment. And that’s probably the logic behind the investigation Sterling is party to.
Grand jury operations are about dynamics: the working relationship between prosecutor and jurors. This relationship is usually good, as evidenced by the fact that local grand juries indict in more than 90 percent of cases presented to them. In a few instances juries can be obstinate and not want to pursue particular types of cases, for example when they think the DA is over-reaching or has a political axe to grind; on the other hand, juries can be stubborn in wanting to pursue a certain line that interests them more than it interests the DA. In either instance you would have a bad rapport between juror and prosecutor or even conflict. This is not, however, the case with DA Miles and the current grand jury, who are all on the same wavelength. The forewoman even brings him her favorite (and now his favorite) baked good: hot blueberry muffins. There’s no law against food flirting, not in North Carolina at least. Miles and “his” jurors are unanimous in wanting Sterling to testify and they need him to testify Tuesday, Wednesday at the absolute latest, so they can issue their indictment before retiring from public service. Without him the case evaporates. That’s why he was generously offered immunity for his minor, if fundamental, role in this matter.
For one of the few times in his life, Sterling does not know exactly what to do. He faces what’s called a moral dilemma, a situation he has heretofore only read about. The two week interval from his previous visit to the DA was supposed to produce a quick fix to this problem, an idea that would have arrived to Sterling by its own accord. He waited for this burning bush but found none. He suffered no epiphany, no brainstorm, not even a mild clue. The problem, on its surface, is pretty straight forward: whether or not to testify as witness. It gets a bit more complex. If he refuses witnesshood, perhaps they will charge him with some sort of misdemeanor, certainly nothing more than a misdemeanor. This would be just a nuisance. It would most likely be a Class 2 misdemeanor under North Carolina General Statues §14-190.9, which would be the ultimate in silliness. He could plead out. Or he’d welcome his day in court as the matter involves freedom of speech issues worth defending. But this issue is now at the Mayberry, NC, level of justice and no decision is likely to climb up the legal pyramid to a more serious jurisprudence. Still, in the worse case scenario he could receive a $500 fine, mandatory counseling or community service. Nothing to be sneezed about.
Mrs. Abernathy opens the folder and hands the subpoena to Mr. Miles, who hands it to Sterling, saying he has now been served.
“I don’t want to testify,” Sterling says.
“That’s your right. 10 A.M. Tuesday,” Miles adds as he opens the door for Sterling.
“I know I said I’d testify. I didn’t exactly lie. I’ve had second thoughts,”
Sterling looks back at Mrs. Abernathy.
“I’m sorry, mam, for being rude, not answering your calls and messages. I just haven’t been able to make up my mind. I don’t want to testify. I should have confronted this in a more mature way. I’m sorry.”
“You know your options.” she replies. “Not showing up is not an option.”
“And not telling the truth, under oath, is not an option,” Miles adds.
“I know, this is not a game,” he says, candidly behind not the thinnest veneer of protection.
The short walk home hardly gives Sterling sufficient time to put the evening’s events into perspective. He briefly examines the subpoena and the related materials as he walks down the six flights of stairs. The stairwell is motion sensitive and the lights buzz alive each time he approaches the next landing. He has walked not because he needs exercise, although he had missed today’s training (Maybe he has time to go to the gym for an hour; he isn’t very tired; but he needs Sara and he doesn’t know if he can fit in boxing as well). He has to walk the stairs because the DA refused to command the elevator, which like everything else in the building has taken the holiday weekend off. If he had agreed to the DA’s demand, the prosecutor would have surely used his key to fetch the elevator.
The subpoena is straight forward. The accompanying materials are largely boiler plate. A copy of the relevant statute is also included:
North Carolina General Statutes § 15A-623 Grand jury proceedings and operation in general
(a) The finding of an indictment, the return of a presentment, and every other affirmative official action or decision of the grand jury requires the concurrence of at least 12 members of the grand jury.
(b) The foreman presides over all hearings and has the power to administer oaths or affirmations to all witnesses.
(c) The foreman must indicate on each bill of indictment or presentment the witness or witnesses sworn and examined before the grand jury. Failure to comply with this provision does not vitiate a bill of indictment or presentment.
(d) During the deliberations and voting of a grand jury, only the grand jurors may be present in the grand jury room. During its other proceedings, the following persons, in addition to a witness being examined, may, as the occasion requires, also be present:
(1) An interpreter, if needed.
(2) A law-enforcement officer holding a witness in custody.
Any person other than a witness who is permitted in the grand jury room must first take an oath before the grand jury that he will keep secret all matters before it within his knowledge.
(e) Grand jury proceedings are secret and, except as expressly provided in this Article, members of the grand jury and all persons present during its sessions shall keep its secrets and refrain from disclosing anything which transpires during any of its sessions.
(f) The presiding judge may direct that a bill of indictment be kept secret until the defendant is arrested or appears before the court. The clerk must seal the bill of indictment and no person including a witness may disclose the finding of the bill of indictment, or the proceedings leading to the finding, except when necessary for the issuance and execution of an order of arrest.
(g) Any grand juror or other person authorized to attend sessions of the grand jury and bound to keep its secrets who discloses, other than to his attorney, matters occurring before the grand jury other than in accordance with the provisions of this section is in contempt of court and subject to proceedings in accordance with law.
(h) If a grand jury is convened pursuant to G.S. 15A-622(h), notwithstanding subsection (d) of this section, a prosecutor shall be present to examine witnesses, and a court reporter shall be present and record the examination of witnesses. The record shall be transcribed. If the prosecutor determines that it is necessary to compel testimony from the witness, he may grant use immunity to the witness. The grant of use immunity shall be given to the witness in writing by the prosecutor and shall be signed by the prosecutor. The written grant of use immunity shall also be read into the record by the prosecutor and shall include an explanation of use immunity as provided in G.S. 15A-1051. A witness shall have the right to leave the grand jury room to consult with his counsel at reasonable intervals and for a reasonable period of time upon the request of the witness. Notwithstanding subsection (e) of this section, the record of the examination of witnesses shall be made available to the examining prosecutor, and he may disclose contents of the record to other investigative or law-enforcement officers, the witness or his attorney to the extent that the disclosure is appropriate to the proper performance of his official duties. The record of the examination of a witness may be used in a trial to the extent that it is relevant and otherwise admissible. Further disclosure of grand jury proceedings convened pursuant to this act may be made upon written order of a superior court judge if the judge determines disclosure is essential:
(1) To prosecute a witness who appeared before the grand jury for contempt or perjury; or
(2) To protect a defendant’s constitutional rights or statutory rights to discovery pursuant to G.S. 15A-903.
Upon the convening of the investigative grand jury pursuant to approval by the three-judge panel, the district attorney shall subpoena the witnesses. The subpoena shall be served by the investigative grand jury officer, who shall be appointed by the court. The name of the person subpoenaed and the issuance and service of the subpoena shall not be disclosed, except that a witness so subpoenaed may divulge that information. The presiding superior court judge shall hear any matter concerning the investigative grand jury in camera to the extent necessary to prevent disclosure of its existence. The court reporter for the investigative grand jury shall be present and record and transcribe the in camera proceeding. The transcription of any in camera proceeding and a copy of all subpoenas and other process shall be returned to the Chief Justice or to such member of the three-judge panel as the Chief Justice may designate, to be filed with the Clerk of the North Carolina Supreme Court. The subpoena shall otherwise be subject to the provisions of G.S. 15A-801 and Article 43 of Chapter 15A. When an investigative grand jury has completed its investigation of the crimes alleged in the petition, the investigative functions of the grand jury shall be dissolved and such investigation shall cease. The District Attorney shall file a notice of dissolution of the investigative functions of the grand jury with the Clerk of the North Carolina Supreme Court. (1973, c. 1286, s. 1; 1985 (Reg. Sess., 1986), c. 843, ss. 3, 6; 1987 (Reg. Sess., 1988), c. 1040, ss. 1, 4; 1989 (Reg. Sess., 1990), c. 1039, s. 4; 1991, c. 686, ss. 2, 3.)
Sterling glances over NCGS §15A-623 but does not activate his deep retention skills. If needed he will study the document later and at that time most certainly commit it to memory, an unintended-unintentional result that is part of how he learns. When he was a youngster, Sterling’s brain, especially his remarkable memory, had been studied by neurologists at local universities a second time. He had been forced to visit the lab coats again, this time by the school psychologist. The scientists had concurred that Sterling possessed extraordinary memory skill, which accounts for his ability to score high on standardized tests, including the so-called IQ tests. That was when they had diagnosed his amusia; it was the connection between extraordinary memory and amusia that most interested these scientists (different from those he had visited five years before). Sterling was told, via his parents, that he does not possess a photographic memory, just a good memory. This verdict arrived, in part, because these neurologists share a mainstream belief with their colleagues around the world that eidetic memory – extraordinarily detailed and vivid recall of visual or auditory images – is extremely rare, if it exists at all. Thus, the conclusion that Sterling could not possess something that doesn’t exist. The literature is replete with cases of individuals who have memories equal to or even superior to Sterling’s. Some people with autism spectrum disorders, especially savants, show a kind of eidetic memory, but it is limited, often to art or music. But there are no undisputed cases of people with a memory for a sensory event that is as accurate as if the person were still viewing, or hearing, the original event. “No-one claiming to have long-term eidetic memory has been able to prove this in scientific tests,” according to Wikipedia, one of Sterling’s constant digital companions, which he accepts as only an approximation for truth; (he is always careful in handling Wiki’s interpretative facts that rise out of group consensus. “Facts are not facts just because there’s a common belief,” he has explained.)
The statute reiterated that a witness does not have a constitutional right to have counsel present during the grand jury proceedings. This is one reason Sterling had not consulted a lawyer; internet web sites, mostly by lawyers whose firms are guns for hire, suggested he rent a lawyer, but the description they gave of the grand jury process was so clear-cut as to vitiate the need to pay for legal counsel. Sterling, who has good business sense, would have advised them to make the process more mysterious; that would bring in customers, rather than drive them away, as Sterling had been driven away. The internet didn’t say too much about Carolina procedure but the state apparently conforms to the ways of federal grand juries, whose subpoenas are issued pursuant to Rule 17 of the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure; there was plenty of information on federal grand juries which are forever going after mobsters and crooked politicians in a nation with an ample supply of both.
Billy/William had been hassling Sterling to bring a lawyer on board from day one. He never seriously considered this kind, if somewhat misinformed, advice from his friend. When he checked his iPhone, he noted that one of the 162 texts was from Billy, who Sterling was still having difficulty referring to as William. William was, and will always be, the father. Maybe he should call them Junior and Senior, but that seemed so silly for t
he younger and insufficiently respectful for the elder. Calling the son Willy, not a particularly attractive name for a gay man but enough of a Billy homonym with sufficient Southern drawl, would make for an easier transition but certainly his friend would see this as a mere downgrade. At the moment perhaps he would go with Will; maybe that would be acceptable. If he couldn’t break himself of the habit, he’d recommend that Will buy him a collar, one like dogs wear that shocks them when they bark. They could program the collar to give a shock anytime Sterling said Billy. Sterling figures if it worked on dogs, it might work on him, also. In any case, Will’s text is the only one Sterling plans to read this evening. He opens it, reads it once, and then read sit word-for-word to access tone. Sometimes you receive shocking messages; this is one of those. Usually these types of electronic shocks result when the sender is in a wretched mood and lets the subconscious do his talking. It’s often soon followed up with a clarification cum apology and the entire abject thread is something best to forget (which of course is not one of Sterling’s modi operandi). The text reads:
Sterl - I have talked with Senior & your parents. You will meet tomorrow, Monday, with Professor Hunter O’Connor, Institute of Constitutional Law, Van Hecke-Wettach, UNC at 3 pm. This is not optional Sterling. This is a friendship braker if you do not meet with Prof O’Connor who can help you - William
Sterling peruses the messages again. This is no clarification cum apology. Mr. O’Connor will come into his office on a holiday to meet with him? Why? William did who-knows-what to accomplish such a feat. Besides sometimes being a tease William has one important four-letter word in his favor: Duke.
He speed dials William and gets his voice-mail: not generic voice-mail but one with a specific target in mind. He hears William’s voice, somewhere between distraught and angry, certainly backed up by sobs before or after the recording:
“You are my best friend. If you miss that appointment I will never speak to you again. I am so fuckin’ serious.”
Sterling taps off the phone. Such a drama queen; two profane outbursts in a single day, something Sterling can hardly believe. Enough already, he thinks. I’ll see the fuckin’ professor, Billy, Bill, William, Will, Willy, whatever you want to call yourself. It’s bad enough to have Senior and his own parents involved. Sterling wants his life back but will accept advice from others if there’s no other choice.
He glances over the subpoena again. It gives time, date and place. Additionally, he is to bring with him “a digital copy, on CD, DVD, or USB flash drive in standard format a copy of the adult video known as Smiley Boy.” It describes the video in sufficient detail so it will not be possible for a reasonable person to mistakenly bring the wrong video. Smiley Boy as far as Sterling knows is a unique presentation. Apparently the DA is wise to Sterling’s tricks. He figures that the grand jury doesn’t really need a copy of the video, of course. It undoubtedly already has one, or has been shown a copy, or at least knows where to find it on the Web. Receiving a copy from witness Sterling is what is demanded.
Sterling doesn’t know how to assess the District Attorney. Mr. Miles had seemed friendly enough when they had struck their earlier deal, the one Sterling wants now to renege on. But in the office tonight, Sterling was kept waiting at the desk as the prosecutor leafed through his dossier. Sterling had noted one newspaper clipping and he is pretty certain what the folder contained: mostly clippings about the bikegate.
When Sterling was twelve, he and his fellow pre-teens in the Friday Nights – they called their confederacy “The B Club” but only among themselves – had sometimes stayed in The Sterling, a sort of roughing-it sleep-over. For the suburban kids, like Jeremiah or the Trips, who never got downtown except to visit Sterling, just spending the night in the ghetto was an enriching experience. The Sterling was hardly located in the ghetto, which was across town if anywhere. Their neighbors were mostly office and government buildings, such as the court house. Saturday morning Sterling and the gang would get on their bicycles and Sterling would give them a tour of downtown Durham, boldly ignoring as many traffic lights and traffic signs as possible. Being helmeted – as Pandely required – merely encouraged them to be more reckless than usual. They had received some fist raising by local merchants, Chinese laundries and the like, and apparently at least one merchant had called the police. Several warnings from his father to obey the rules of the road had fallen on deaf ears. Back in those days Sterling was on more civil terms with the socially awkward Trips, who attended B Club functions. They had a special bicycle, one built for three, and they dared Sterling to see how many red lights they could run without (or before) killing themselves. Sterling didn’t like the idea and would not have taken the dare except for their harmonizing an impromptu verse…
Eu-mor-fó́-pou-los
Eu-mor-fó́-pou-los
Daddy is a cop
Daddy is a cop
He’s so chicken-shitty
He’s so chicken-shitty
Ding, dang, dong. Ding, dang, dong.
…and Sterling had to immediately surrender to the dare before the other club members joined in the round.
They biked up and down Main Street and then West Pettigrew several times, after which Sterling was ready to head home. The Trips, however, had a different idea and got out in front and veered into West Chapel Hill Street, heading toward Duke University. The gang followed while Sterling was in the rear frantically yelling “No, no, wrong street.” They ran the customary red light, as there was no opposing traffic and went past the Amtrak Station into the 500 block, right past the main police station. Arriving at Duke they turned around to return back to the Sterling, riding several abreast, behaving as pre-teens are expected to behave. This time they were met with force at the police station. About a dozen officers approached. Each assigned himself to an individual bicyclist and wrote each boy a personalized ticket. After some discussion they decided to give the Trips three individual tickets, so their fines amounted to $150 plus estimated court costs of $393. The Trips were all in tears, which didn’t phase any of the police who were reading their assigned juveniles the riot act for various violations which had been recorded on traffic control cameras. These included: failure to obey traffic signal or stop; following too closely; illegal passing; driving in the wrong lane; reckless driving; failure to yield to right-of-way, and in the cases of the boys who did not carry identification or money (this was in the years before the Chinese licenses), vagrancy. The fact that North Carolina had abandoned vagrancy laws, a catch-all category that had been used primary to entrap blacks, did not deter the police. Sterling put up a verbal fight and was giving the police officers, all of whom he knew and liked, a lot of lip. Part of it was show, part of it was his disapproval that his rights were being violated. He didn’t know all the small print, but he was pretty sure the police could not fine 12 year olds. He calculated the total would be over $1500.
The Police Chief, himself, his father’s superior and boss’s boss’s boss, approached after the racket had interfered with a staff meeting.
“Sterling, if you say another word, I swear I’ll throw the lot of you in a cell with nothing but a pot to piss in.”
Sterling was quiet for only a moment before he started, “Chief, you have no right…”
And with that, the Friday Night boys became Saturday afternoon juvenile delinquents, packed into a single cell and given a toilet bucket.
The bicycles were confiscated as evidence. The boys had expected their parents to arrive but none did. Sterling had feared that locking John Dewey up would be problematic but he proved a loyal trooper. At shift change, the new officers turned them out of their cell, with no explanation. They knew nothing about the bicycles which, if they had been logged in as evidence, had no right to be returned. The boys walked the mile or so back to The Sterling, where various parents were arriving to take the bikeless boys home. Pandely informed the parents they could pick up the bicycle
s at the station whenever convenient. Sterling promised his friends he would sort this out; he collected all the tickets which he told them they would not have to pay.
That night his father had nothing to say about the day’s incident. Sterling rightly suspected his father was behind the whole matter, as a way to teach him and his friends, but especially to teach Sterling himself, to obey traffic laws. But for Sterling the matter was nowhere near settled.
First, he sought the internet for advice. He acquainted himself with his rights and the relevant state statutes. Kids, he learned, were important enough to rate their own set of laws and courts and social workers, all covered in legalese in NCGS Chapter 7B: Juvenile Code. In most situations North Carolina juveniles (under 16) cannot be charged with a crime or fined for one. There is a separate system set up for them. But what Sterling and the gang had done was not criminal. They were not even misdemeanors, merely infractions. Bad bicycling, at the most, is an infraction of the DMV code except Sterling could find no provision in that code for punishing bad bicycling committed by juveniles. Their incarceration was, therefore, blatantly illegal; he would like to say it was inhumane. One pot to piss in verges on torture in his opinion, especially when the Trips must urinate ensemble, enveloping the cell in a Niagara Falls quality mist. But the fact they were given an excellent lunch of hamburgers, chicken and pizza from the local fast food outlets sort of demolished the violation of human rights argument. Nevertheless, the Durham police had tried to imitate Andy Griffith and ended up looking more like Don Knotts.
The first thing Monday afternoon, which was conveniently a school holiday, Sterling went to court. He had studied up on traffic tickets. The most important point everyone made: never admit guilt. The system is built on laziness. For most people it’s easiest just to pay a fine rather than to spend the countless hours of emotional energy needed to fight the system with its obstinate rules and procedures. Emotional energy, however, was something Sterling had in spades. He arrived with a twelve page document, with graphics and Google-street-views of the routes they had cycled, with photos of the traffic cameras that were alleged to have caught their crimes. He disputed each and every ticket, mostly on details, lack of eyewitness accounts, etc. It was not possible that the police had a video to contest Sterling’s factual account. Even his father had once admitted that most of the cameras were on the blink and served more of a public relations ploy. Sterling in his brief argued that as a class the juveniles – all with perfect records with not a single shoplifting offense among them – were being harassed and hounded because they were a powerless minority. He said he welcomed his day in court. He had faxed the document, under the title “Local Police Abuse Bicycling Tots” to all the newspapers in the Triangle, as well as to the local chapter of the ACLU and various liberal-minded churches.
The internet had advised Sterling how to navigate around the courthouse. A member of the blogosphere said he had called the court and “a very nice woman” had told him “to come down to the courthouse between 2 and 4 and talk to them.” He then gave readers specific directions:
“When you go into the lobby of the courthouse, through the checkpoint, go to the LEFT. There will be two officers standing there. On their left, go through the door and keep going straight. Then take a right. If you go left, that is the courtroom. Don’t go in there. When you do take that right, there will be a bunch of people snaking around in a long line up to a U-shaped desk. At the U-shaped desk are two magistrates. The entire place seemed filled with people who had done this a million times.”
The author himself admitted to his readers that he had rolled thru a stop sign, which had been obscured by high bushes. “Officer was there just waiting for me” he admitted, confessing his infraction to readers.
The blogger continued his explanation: “The other people’s infractions were a lot worse than mine, too. Many seemed to know each other. The guy standing behind me seemed to be very familiar with the decisions of the male judge and was afraid of getting him; he did end up getting him. The other judge, was new, female and young.”
The essayist talked his way out of the fine, although he still had to pay court costs. Most important he was given a PJC, so he would receive no points against his driving record, he would not have to go to defensive driving school and his insurance rates would not rise. Bless North Carolina for being one of two states (with its neighbor to the south) which have PJCs. It took a few clicks before Sterling understood what a PJC was. The initials stand for Prayer for Judgment Continued. No wonder North Carolina has such a solid reputation for being a speed trap, Sterling reasoned. PJCs are something that allow the money-empowered to get away with their offenses. After you accept responsibility for the infraction (in effect pleading guilty to a misdemeanor or felony), the judge may choose to issue a PJC. In technical terms it is an adjudication of guilt by the court, without an entry of judgment. In other words a PJC is officially not a conviction because no final judgment has been entered. It reminded Sterling of going downstairs to Vegas with his dad. Crime without punishment. He quite liked the idea of PJCs. It made him proud to be Carolinian. He’d get off without a record and his parents would get stuck with the fine, which they had earned for being duplicitous. Sterling had learned from other Friday Nighters that Pandely had phoned each set of parents and asked their permission to administer some “tough love” and “pretend jail” to the adolescents as a lesson. (He had been told it had worked with Alfred Hitchcock, whose life of crimes he committed only on film.) “Let me read you some statistics on how many children die on their bicycles,” Pandely would start. He would usually get no more than several years into the data before the parent agreed to the proposed punishment. None had objected, to Sterling’s lack of chagrin. William Senior had even suggested to throw the “little shavers in jail all weekend, bread and water.” The Vaneys realized it was all Sterling’s doing, of course, but they had no choice but to go with the majority opinion of the parents. The Trips were home schooled and their Friday Nights offered them a rare opportunity to interact with their peers, to be socialized. In the real world, they reckoned, you must take the good with the bad (their blessed Trips with the likes of Sterling).
Sterling had written a paragraph instructing the judge on the appropriateness of the PJC in this case. But he had not anticipated two things. First, that all those faxes he send actually would be read. A dozen reporters and photographers were on the courthouse steps to greet him (he had given them the specific time of his arrival and had offered to give them each an exclusive interview. Exclusivity was a matter he would have to deal with momentarily.) Second, he had anticipated that the magistrate would skim the documentation or just be impressed by its authoritativeness, issue a summary verdict, dispense a PJC and hand him a bill for costs. The judge, however, took one look at the document and assigned him a court date before Sterling had time to object. Each judge assigns cases to the other judge (to avoid conflicts of interest, supposedly) and these two judges didn’t especially like each other; they would gleefully assign tough nut cases or those involving assholes to their colleague. Whether Sterling was deemed a tough nut or not was not readily apparent from the action of the assigning magistrate. But assigning a teenage jail house lawyer type to her vile colleague had made her day.
The boy thus had another week to prepare for court. He worked up a powerful PowerPoint presentation on Jeremiah’s Dell (Sterling was waiting for his own parents to give him his first laptop.) On the Friday Night before court the gang rehearsed all their testimony. They practiced cute smiles and batting their eyelashes in a way to make them look the most innocent. If confronted with an accusation of running lights or stop signs, they were told not to lie, just start crying if they couldn’t think of anything better. They had already alerted their teachers that they would need a hour off for a medical type appointment. Sterling had told them not to lie, just conveniently not to tell all the truth. S
ay “medical type” not “medical,” he had advised. This he had to reinforce on the Trips, whom he couldn’t trust to follow directions. The Trips for their part had agreed to give testimony together which seemed logical since they had shared the offending vehicle.
Court was 10 A.M. a midweek morning. Jeremiah had scoped out the location, which was not set up for PowerPoint. He had brought all the necessary extension cords and cables and even a portable screen. The print media, as well as the local radio stations had of course been alerted and they were handed PowerPoint diskettes. Sterling had already received a lot of press. He had had his photo in three local papers and he gave the press photos of the gang on their bikes. The Trip-cycle was featured in four papers. Sterling had a knack for turning phrases and that had ingratiated himself with the press, which thrives on nothing if not a cute quote. He also had an instinct for parceling out information so that no single journalist got all the details and so that no two stories were exactly alike. All rose as Judge Winters entered.
This was only traffic court but given all the boys in coats and ties and their parents, it looked more like the glee club with its support group. First two cases were heard quickly by the judge and then he read off a list of eleven boys’ names and turned to his clerk:
“This a consolidation?”
“Yes, your honor.”
The boys crowded around the single seat allowed the defendant, wondering who should take the chair.
“It won’t take long, you can stand,” the judge said. “You have a spokesman?” he asked.
“It is I, your honor, judge,” Sterling replied.
“And you are the author of this twelve-page tome, young man.”
“Yes sir, I am.”
“And do I understand correctly that you want to plead guilty to the various infractions, which you say you did not commit, as long as the court gives you a Prayer for Judgment Continued.”
“Your honor, sir, it’s not my duty to inform the court how to rule, but I do think that would be a fair verdict.”
“Yeah, yeah. Do we have the arresting officer or officers in court?” Judge Winters asked to no one in particular.
“Jane Abernathy for the department and the prosecutor, your honor.”
At this moment, in the replay of the event of five years past, as he walks home, Sterling now realizes why Mrs. Abernathy looks so familiar. The Mrs. Abernathy of bikegate is the same Mrs. Abernathy of the current Smiley Boy matter. Sterling may have a superb memory but his facial recognition abilities are sub-normal. In fact, the second group of neurologists had suspected he likely suffers from prosopagnosia, so-called face blindness. In its severest forms one is unable to recognize faces or even objects. Fortunately for Sterling he has a mild form and this is not a progressive disease. Over time he has learned how to accommodate his deficiency. He automatically recognizes people by movement, individual features such as nose shape, moles, hair patterns. It comes natural to him, and it’s rare when he encounters someone he should recognize but doesn’t. He now feels a tinge of regret. Not only was he rude to Mrs. Abernathy by not responding to her faxes and calls but he showed no signs of ever having known her. Women don’t like that. He tries to recall if she mentioned they had met; he’s sure she never said so. On the other hand, perhaps she didn’t recognize him. In the intervening years he has put on fifty pounds and more than a foot. The brief court appearance was five years ago; it’s best he not remind her, Sterling figures.
As Mrs. Abernathy began to confer with the judge privately, Sterling started to walk to the bench.
“Should I be involved in this, sir, if I am part of the conversation.”
“That’s fine, counsel, return to your places,” he said before Sterling could advance further.
“Now, boys, from what I understand you have agreed to do as your spokesman counsels. I want each of you to affirm this in a clear statement. You will include your name and say, only of course it is true, that you have understood the charges and that agree to plead either “responsible” or “not responsible,” according to your choice. In doing so, you accept the judgment of this court.
Starting with Sterling, the boys do as instructed, one by one. When it gets to the Trips, they all three speak at once totally confusing the court stenographer. The judge, who’s had enough of this show, says to her:
“I am sure you got all that.”
Judge Winters barks at the youth:
“Stand still and face the bench. You have pleaded “responsible” for what I consider a very serious set of infractions. When you get behind the wheel in a few years, you must know that driving a vehicle, and that includes riding a bicycle, can be dangerous. On a bicycle, you can kill someone. You know that, I hope. The police were being very creative in teaching this lesson of responsibility to you. Perhaps a bit too creative. I will disallow the fines, you will be responsible for court costs. You, not your parents. To pay you will do community service and earn the equivalent of the court costs, which are…,” he said turning to his clerk.
“One thousand, six-hundred and twenty-two dollars and seventeen cents, your honor.” The judge continued:
“…and that community service will be in the form of various errands carried out on your bicycles for staff of the courthouse and the police station. You will keep methodical records and give them in one package to Mrs. Abernathy. When you have finished your CS, the court will issue each of you a Prayer for Judgment Continued. This will be given to the DMV and if you are found responsible for any more infractions before your sixteenth birthday, it will be the Court’s option whether to reassess the PJC. Now, Mr. Eumorfopoulos, you have a way with words. Explain what I said in one sentence to your fellow juveniles.”
Sterling thinks for a second. “If we don’t behave, we could be punished for these alleged infractions on our bicycles.”
“Yes, except they are not alleged. They were committed.”
“Yes, your honor. I guess I meant previously alleged.”
“Next case.”
On the courthouse steps, just like in Law and Order, the boys were mobbed by the media, including some reporters for several internet news sites. Some articles followed in the next few days. ABC news would have been there, and Sterling might have gotten on network news, had it not been for the snow storm that was already beginning to sock in downtown for several days. They completed their community service over the following months, until the Trips’ nagging finally convinced Mrs. Abernathy to sign off, affirming that justice had indeed been served. That was the end of bikegate.