When Innocence is Inconvenient (Part 3)
The Testimony of Spooky Brown, Esq. (Third Series)
For Part 1, click here. For Part 2, click here.
(Part 3 of 4)*
It Doesn’t Look Like Him, Man
“You must be blind, Wendell. The guy in the video is not my client!”
I was sitting in court waiting for my case to be called when I heard this argument between Wendell — a deputy district attorney with almost thirty years in the office — and a defense attorney.
While I was extremely curious about the case, I tried to avoid Wendell at all costs because he was super racist; I hated hearing his stories about the ‘good ol’ days’ in the office when criminals really got what they deserved. He often lamented the fact that, unlike those ‘good ol’ days,’ prosecutors could no longer speak their minds “without offending somebody’s stupid feelings.”
To be clear, Wendell, an older white man, was talking about a time when the office was overwhelmingly white and male. I knew exactly what he meant.
Although I didn’t care for Wendell, I was still cordial and professional with him. I don’t think he cared for me either, for obvious reasons, and I was cool with that.
Consequently, I was surprised when he approached me in court to ask a question.
“Hey, could you look at this photo from a video and tell me if it looks like the defendant sitting here?”
The defendant — “Gideon” — was sitting across the table wearing a blue county-jail jumpsuit. He was charged with second degree robbery for holding up a convenience store. The robbery was caught on video. In court, he sat with his head down, shaking it while mumbling to himself as the two white lawyers argued over the photo.
I was initially embarrassed for Gideon because Wendell was talking about him like he wasn’t in the courtroom. It was obvious why Wendell asked me: I was Black, just like Gideon. Wendell desperately wanted validation from someone who was on his “team.”
I reluctantly approached counsel’s table.
I looked at the photo, then looked at Gideon. It wasn’t even close. I wasn’t going to validate a motherfucking thing.
“Wendell! It doesn’t look like him at all.”
“Are you sure? Not even a little bit?”
“No way man, not even close.”
Several times, Wendell looked closely at the photo and then at Gideon. From his facial expression, I could tell that he knew I was right.
When the judge took the bench, Wendell said he needed more time to investigate the matter and, with the defense’s support, continued the case. I waited in court for about an hour until the lunch recess. I approached Wendell as he cradled some case files in his arms while walking back to his office.
“Well, what are you gonna to do about that case, shouldn’t it be dismissed?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not sure about this one.”
“Come on, Wendell, it’s clear that it’s not him. I think you need to dismiss it.”
“Well, I’m going to take my time because even if he didn’t do this crime, he probably did some others that we haven’t caught him for.”
A sharp sensation went through my head, and I felt my blood boiling. I wanted to curse the shit out of him, but I knew that it wouldn’t be conducive towards my ultimate goal of getting Gideon out of jail. So I kept my cool.
Instead, I continued walking with Wendell, trying to convince him to dismiss the charges and let Gideon go. When we got to his office, I took the file and showed him the photo from the video and Gideon’s booking photo.
“Wendell, clearly this ain’t the dude.”
Undeterred, he said that he would look into the matter — after his two-week vacation.
While I thought that his position on the matter was despicable and unjustifiably cruel, I also saw it as an opportunity to act.
The opinions here do not reflect the official views of the L.A. District Attorney’s Office, my current employer. To avoid fierce harassment and oppressive retaliation, I’ve decided to conceal my identity, for now.
