Sunny: The Hippie Chick

By Dawn Natelle

Reviewed and Edited by Eric

Chapter 13 -- Sittin' downtown in a railway station One toke over the line

The last half of August was a downer at the apartment. Ben’s court case was on Monday, September 8, and Mary was at the apartment a lot, both to talk to Ben but also just to socialize.

The last week of August she made him go through his clothes, trying to find something suitable for court, but quickly discovered he didn’t have anything. She suggested a cheap suit, which would cost nearly $100. But Ben had only been working one day a week for months and had nothing saved.

I was making good money advising for the doctor doing implants, so I offered to loan him the money. He refused. I had been paying most of his rent for the past few months, and didn’t mind, but his male pride kept him from taking my money.

Sunny saved the day. (Doesn’t she always?) She made the suggestion that Ben sell his bus to me for $200, giving him money he had worked to earn. Ben loved that old rust bucket, but when I said he would still be able to use it whenever he wanted, he broke. That was followed by the oddest negotiations ever known. I wanted to buy at a higher price, and he wanted to sell at a lower one. We finally agreed on $150 and a tank of gas.

The next day Mary took Ben over to the Fillmore district to buy a cheap suit. He drove ‘my van’. She got him a nice brown suit for $89 that she thought would look nice in court, as well as getting him a haircut, mowing his afro down to about 3/4 of an inch. He came back and modelled for us, with me laughing and Sunny telling him he looked very handsome.

On Monday I drove us all to the court in the van, the first time I drove it. Halfway there, Ben noticed a little ping in the engine and wanted me to pull over so he could check it out and Mary nearly bit off his head at the idea of doing engine repairs in his new suit. He agreed it was not a terminal problem, so we continued to the courthouse, where Mary had arranged parking for us.

Ben was carted off when we signed in, and Mary went to a lawyer’s area. She had passed her bar exam over the summer so no longer needed anyone else to stand with her at the trial. Sunny and I wandered off, finally finding the courtroom his trial would be at and going in to get a seat. As she went in the door ahead of me, I noticed again just how beautiful Sunny was. Her hair was an inch and a half long and getting really cute, but her figure was dramatically different. The hormones had given her B cup breasts, but now she had hips. Her waist had always been tiny but it seemed that the regular meals over the last year had only added weight on her hips. She had really nice curves.

About 15 minutes before the trial time Mary came out and set herself up at the defense table, giving us a big smile before arranging her papers and books. She went up to the evidence table, and I could see her frowning at something.

Mary had told us earlier that we would have a woman judge, the only one in the system, and considered that to be a good sign. The woman had a reputation for being fair and unbiased. Finally, Ben was brought in and my jaw dropped. He was shackled hand and foot and had to shuffle in to stand beside Mary. Eventually the judge came in, and we all stood while she was seated.

“I object,” the young black lawyer said. “My client is not in custody, and should not be wearing that outfit, and certainly not restraints. He has been under bail bond for the past several months.”

The judge looked alarmed. “Mr. Cornwall, what is the meaning of this?”

The obese man at the Assistant District Attorney desk rose. “He was so garbed on the recommendation of the police. He is deemed dangerous.”

“After a judge deemed him fit for bond? I am pretty sure that the judicial decision will trump any police concerns. Remove the restraints immediately.” Several court officers rushed up to remove the irons.

Mary spoke. “I would like a recess so that my client can return to his proper clothes.”

“Can’t,” said the ADA. “We need to get this case underway. He’ll need those after the judge passes sentence anyway.”

Mary just gaped, but the judge took over. “Mr. Cornwall, you are perilously close to contempt of court in this matter. I know your department likes to intimidate the accused and sway juries by this ploy. But if you had read your notes you would know that the DA has agreed to the defense request for a bench trial. There is no jury to sway. We will take a 10-minute adjournment to allow the accused to be dressed properly. If that detracts from your time schedule, Mr. Cornwall, you should not have attempted this ploy.”

“I consent to continue,” Mary said. “However, I had one other concern. I examined the evidence table and could not see any evidence relating to the drugs my client allegedly had. Perhaps a mistrial should be called.”

The ADA shot to his feet. For a fat man he was nimble. “There is no need. The evidence went to the crime lab where it was booked and tested. Sometime after that it disappeared from the system. At least five prior judges have accepted a lab report as sufficient proof that the evidence existed. I will be calling the technician from the lab this morning.”

The judge frowned. “I will accept that ruling for the time being,” she said. “But there seems to be something fishy about all this. I reserve the right to call a mistrial based on the lack of evidence at a later time.”

When Ben returned in his suit, the charges against him were read, and he pled not guilty. The ADA then called his witnesses, starting with the two cops who had made the arrest. Both gave similar testimony, varying only slightly on details. There was no mention of the accusation that Sunny was a prostitute and Ben her pimp, or that Ben had been taken down to the floor even though he was not resisting arrest.

Mary cross-examined and got the men to admit to those omissions. Then she asked the taller cop, Rodder, where he had found the drugs. He said they were taped to the back of the toilet. She asked what kind of tape had been used, and he paused for a moment, and then said duct tape.

Then she asked him what color the toilet was. This time there was a lengthy pause, and the man finally said ‘white’.

“I would like to submit to the court this photo,” Mary said, handing the judge a photo of a pale green toilet from the apartment.

“Enter that into the evidence,” the judge said. “It clearly shows a conventional toilet in a lime green color that could never be confused with white.”

“They may have painted that since the arrest,” the ADA protested.

“If necessary, we will bring in the tank lid to the court. You can see it is the same color as the base that the officer claimed was white,” Mary said.

That is not necessary,” the ADA said, deflated. “This trial needs to end today.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Cornwall,” the judge said testily. “You forget your place. It is I who determines the pacing of the trial, not you.”

The ADA then called the crime lab technician who testified that he had examined a roll of marijuana that he had weighed as 34 grams, just over an ounce. He noted that this would allow for 10 to 12 marijuana cigarettes, justifying the charge of trafficking. He said one marijuana cigarette could sell for $5 on the street, although we thought that figure inflated.

In cross-examination Mary produced a typed list to the technician, asking if he recognized it. “Yes, this is the information you asked of me a few weeks back. It represents five other cases where I have done testing on evidence brought to me by Officer Rodder over the past two years. But they were dealing with other cases.”

“I object,” the ADA said shuffling through his files. “This is not relevant to this case. There is no connection to earlier convictions.”

“I hope to prove it is,” Mary said. “I contend that the drugs in each case are the same ones. Mr. Lashore, can you tell me what happened the last time you saw these drug samples?”

“In each case Officer Rodder volunteered to return them to the evidence room.”

“I object,” shouted the ADA, finally having found his copy of the page. “They can’t be the same drugs. The amounts are not even the same.”

“As you will note, the amounts go down by about a gram each testing, with the weight the same once,” Mary said. “Sir, is some of the evidence destroyed in the testing?”

“Yes, nearly a gram. The time both samples were the same could have been a rounding error,” the lab technician said.

I note that all the samples indicate that they were wrapped in red foil paper. Is that common with items you test?” Mary asked.

“No, in fact it is rare. Mostly they are wrapped in sandwich bags.”

“Officer Rodder, you are not to leave the court,” the judge interrupted. The officer had started to dart for the door. She turned to her bailiff while scribbling something on a sheet of paper. “Bailiff, I want you to send an officer of the court to that officer’s station and search his locker. Here is a search warrant. She handed it to the bailiff who passed it on to another court officer, who darted out the door.

When Mary had finished her cross-examination of the technician from the lab, the ADA announced that he had concluded with his witnesses, telling the judge that it was clear that he had proven his case against Ben. The judge looked at her watch and announced that the court would break for a long lunch and reconvene at 2 p.m. for the defense witnesses.

Mary and Ben joined us for the lunch Sunny had prepared. When she took a bite, Mary’s eyes widened. Not only were the sandwiches made from sourdough bread fresh this morning, but the tomatoes and lettuce were fresh from the garden. Sunny’s signature BLT’s also had a slice of process cheese melted over the bacon, making them especially tasty.

The talk turned to the case and Mary suggested that it had gone well even before she had presented her side. The thing with the bathroom fixtures had been a plus, and she had gotten what she wanted out of the missing evidence situation. “The only thing that could be better is if they find the missing weed in that cop’s locker.”

She then noted that she wanted Sunny and me to testify to the events of the arrest independently, with Sunny going first. She wanted me to not be in the court while Sunny testified, so that it would be clear that we were not mimicking each other’s testimony the way the police clearly had.

“The ADA will claim that we might have been coached,” she said. “But the judge is a smart cookie and no doubt will see the truth in your statements. We were lucky to get her on the bench, and just as lucky to get the worst ADA in the building. He clearly hasn’t even read through his brief, which must have been made by a law clerk in his department. He’s one of the ones who only puts an effort in on a high-profile case. He didn’t even know it was a bench trial.”

A few minutes later the judge was seated, and she started with an announcement. The two arresting cops were no longer to be seen, although the one from the lab was there.

“I have an announcement to make,” the judge started, holding up a small cylinder of red foil. “This was found in Officer Rodder’s locker in the police station.” She turned to the lab technician. “Does this look like the missing evidence?”

“Yes it does,” the man said.

“Have this entered as an exhibit in this trial,” she handed the drugs to the court clerk. “You have witnesses to call, Miss Lincoln?”

“I do,” Mary said. “Please call Sunshine Aquarius to the stand. And I would ask that Mitchell Carter be excluded from the court during her testimony.” I got up and left, and the next part of the story was related to me later by Sunny. As I was leaving, I heard the court clerk ask Sunny if that was her real name.

“I was Caroline Mary Lamotte as a little girl,” Sunny lied, using the false identity Ben had gotten her. “I go by Sunshine Aquarius now. You may call me Sunny.”

“Thank you Sunny.” Apparently, my girlfriend was befriending the judge the way she did with everyone else.

Mary asked her to describe the events of the arrest in her own words. She did, noting that Ben and she had been walking back to the apartment when the police had seen them, a big black man and a very blonde girl. “My hair was much longer then,” she said, running her hand through the currently short locks.

She said the two had just entered the apartment when there was a loud knock on the door, followed by the two officers entering and then jumping on Ben, forcing him to the ground.

When Mary asked about the alleged drugs, Sunny said she had cleaned the bathroom less than an hour before, and part of her routine was to wash behind the toilet to eliminate any splatter. No drugs were taped there at that time, and she had been with Ben all the time since.

In the cross-examination the ADA asked her to explain why Ben had admitted to having the drugs.

“He didn’t,” Sunny said. “He said that Mitch and I knew nothing about the marijuana. He did not say that he did.” The ADA also practically accused her of being a hooker, and Sunny denied it, saying that I was the only person she had ever slept with.

But the judge was having none of that, ordering the ADA out of line with that questioning since Sunny’s morality was not in question in this case.

Soon after that I was let back into the courtroom and was brought up to the stand to testify. I was sworn in and gave my name. There was some background information and then Mary asked me about the camera.

“Camera?” the ADA shouted. “I was not told about any camera.”

“I provided the prosecution with a copy of the film,” Mary said. Perhaps it is in your brief. The big man immediately searched his brief folder and found a roll of film at the bottom that he clearly had not seen before.

A projector and small screen had been set up and Mary played the three minutes of film. “I can’t pause the film or it might melt,” Mary said. “But I have taken four stills from the film. The first shows Officer Rodder reaching into his pants, and then one a second later shows him pulling out the red foil package. The third one shows him concealing it in his hand, and the fourth one, over a minute later shows him waving the same package in the air after apparently ‘finding’ it in the washroom.”

The shocked judge flipped through the photos. “Mr. Cornwall. Is it your intention to continue with this case?”

The fat man slumped in his chair, not even bothering to rise to address the judge. “The State withdraws all charges.”

The judge slammed her gavel down. “Case dismissed. And I want a copy of this film sent to the police department investigating the actions of the officers. Further, the other five convictions by these officers should be opened for new evidence as a result of this evidence. It is quite possible that there are others who have been illegally convicted.”

I turned to see Mary held high in the air by Ben in an unconventional victory celebration.

We drove home, with Ben and Mary in the second seats, kissing quite passionately. Apparently the attorney-solicitor phase of their relationship had morphed into a young lovers stage. I drove up our little lane and dropped them off at the house. Mary accompanied him upstairs. Sunny and I headed to the hospital for a belated visit with her kids. I was again amazed at how much the kids loved seeing Sunny.

When we got back a couple hours later, we entered the apartment to find the sofa bed pulled out and a tangle of black legs and arms twisted across it; Ben’s dark black and Mary’s chocolate brown.

We made a beeline for our bedroom and soon were inside, leaving the young lovers to finish up. Five minutes later there was a tap on the door and the embarrassed couple entered the room. Sunny immediately put them to ease, noting that she was not at all embarrassed and was happy for them.

“Would it be possible for Mary to move in with us?” Ben asked me. “She is paying $20 for a single room across town and could pay into the pot for meals.”

“No additional charge for rent,” I said. “Assuming she is sleeping in your bed. I didn’t pay any more when Sunny joined us. And if she wants to chip in a bit for food that is okay.

“And I will help with the cooking and cleaning,” the young lawyer promised. “I want to learn some of Sunny’s cooking skills.”