Harlem Girl Lost 2

by Blue, Treasure E.

  Jessica just stared at the matchbook with Marriott Hotel inscribed on the cover.

  Mr. Steinberg held the matchbook high in the air for all to see. “Your Honor, I’d like to enter this into evidence as exhibit A-9.” He turned his attention back to Jessica for the squeeze play. “Ms. Jones, were you or were you not at the Marriott Hotel having sex, drinking, and doing drugs on the same night you murdered Denise Jackson!”

  “Objection, Your Honor!” yelled her lawyer as he shot to his feet.

  “Sustained,” said the judge. “Strike that from the record.”

  “Sorry, Your Honor. I’ll rephrase,” Mr. Steinberg said with a smile. It was already too late. The damage was done, and he knew it.

  Jessica sat shaking and crying as she wrapped her arms around herself like she was holding herself from falling apart.

  Mr. Butler requested, “Your Honor, can I have a few minutes with my client?”

  The judge nodded. “Ok, the court will have a twenty-minute recess.” He banged his gavel and hurried off to his chambers.

  Jessica felt dizzy and caught between a rock and a hard place. Her worst nightmare was unfolding before her eyes as a million regrets swirled through her mind. She was caught in a lie and exposed in front of her parents and jurors. A personal and endearing secret now could put her away for years. Her parents were confused and wounded as they stood next to her lawyer who asked her what is this thing with the hotel, drinking and drugs—and he wanted the truth. Jessica closed her eyes and told her parents she was sorry and that she didn’t think the hotel thing would matter.

  Her lawyer exploded and said, “Wouldn’t matter? Jessica, that one omission can make the difference in the whole case. We are at that point now where you may come off as a lying drug addict who committed a murder. I want you to tell me everything that happened that night without leaving so much as the color the hotel room out. Do you understand?”

  Back on the witness stand, Jessica stared at both her parents and Kenny as they sat sullenly in their seats sensing the worst.

  The judge ordered, “Mr. Steinberg, proceed.”

  Mr. Steinberg stood to his feet and continued where he’d left off and walked over to the witness stand.

  “Ms. Jones, on the night of June 10th, of last year, did you and your co-defendants go to the Marriott Hotel in Times Square to have sex, do drugs, and consume alcohol?”

  “Objection, your honor. Irrelevant,” said Mr. Butler.

  “Your Honor, I’m showing the state of mind of the defendants as well as their condition leading up to the murder.”

  “Overruled,” said the judge.

  Mr. Steinberg smiled and repeated. “Ms. Jones, I say again, on the night of June 10th, of last year, did you and your co-defendants go to the Marriott Hotel in Times Square to have sex, drink alcohol, and use drugs?”

  Jessica stared at Vonda, Tiny, and Lynn’s dreadful faces, then at her parents. “I didn’t do any drugs.”

  There was another loud gasp as she watched her parents put their heads down shamefully.

  Mr. Steinberg wasn’t finished there. “Are you saying that you, Jessica Jones, and your three other co-defendants were at the Marriott Hotel together the same night of the murder?”

  “Yes,” answered Jessica.

  “So, when I asked the three other co-defendants the same question they lied under oath?”

  Jessica paused and looked at her friends, then at her lawyer, and finally answered, “Yes”

  Mr. Steinberg smiled to the jurors and said, “Ms. Jones, I have one final question to ask you. What was the full name of your escort you to the prom?”

  Her eyes quickly shifted to Kenny and toward her parents. She reluctantly answered, “Kenneth Duboise.”

  Kenny, sitting right next to Mr. Jones, wanted so badly to be invisible at that moment.

  “Your Honor,” said Mr. Steinberg as he walked over to his table, opened a folder, and pulled out a sheet of paper and continued, “I have in my hand records from the Marriott Hotel, dated June 10th, 1981, at 9:38 pm, stating that four separate rooms we rented out by a Kenneth Duboise and paid in cash.” He held up the records for all to see as all the girls sank deeper into their seats.

  Councilman Jackson beamed wickedly at the girls, who he felt took his only daughter’s life.

  As the trial continued, the D.A. presented bloody crime scene pictures, the photos of the bloodied clothing they had on that night, and lastly, the eyewitness testimony that positively identified each girl.

  **********

  It only took the jury two hours to deliberate. They walked back into the courtroom in single file from out the jurors’ chambers.

  After they were seated, the judge asked, “Ladies and gentleman of the jury, have you reached a decision?”

  “Yes, sir, we have,” answered the jury foreman.

  The bailiff walked over to the foreman, who handed the decision to the bailiff, who then handed it to the judge. The judge took the note and studied it, showing no emotion.

  The judge looked at the girls and said, “Will the defendants please rise?” The judge handed the note back to the bailiff, who returned it to the jury foreman.

  “Please read the verdict, Mr. Foreman,” the judge announced.

  The foreman looked at the four and unfolded the paper. “In the case of manslaughter in the first degree, we jury, find the defendants, Jessica Jones, Claresse Maynard, Vonda Jamison, and Lynise Davis—guilty!”

  Chapter 9

  The girls were grief-stricken when they were all sentenced to a seven-year bid in a state prison, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. They were immediately taken into custody as their loved ones watched in horror to see their children—their babies, their loves—walk away in handcuffs for the next unforgiving seven years.

  The girls walked out of the courtroom with their heads up because there was no longer any tears in them to cry. Between the arrest, the trial, and the conviction, their innocence was lost somewhere along the way and they were numb to it all and wanted nothing more but to face the challenge that they surely had ahead of them.

  They spent a month on Rikers Island Correctional Institution for Women prior to being shipped up north to Bedford Hill Correctional. Rikers was the first dose of reality they received, which was only a prelude to the conditions that they would be getting in a state correctional facility. For the most part, the month that they spent on Rikers Island was nursery school compared to what they would soon face ahead.

  Though Jessica and Vonda never been to prison before, they maintained their poise throughout their tenure there, but the same could not be said for Lynn and Tiny. Lynn remained quiet and wide-eyed the entire time there and showed her weaknesses openly. Jessica and Vonda told her many times that she couldn’t show any weakness and she had to snap out of it. Lynn didn’t care and simply couldn’t help it, so they protected her all the same.

  Tiny wasn’t as bad as Lynn, but her nerves were completely shot. Even before the trial, Tiny had been consuming more and more weed and alcohol just to keep from shaking. She began worrying herself to death and the more she worried, the more she stayed high. But, now that she was locked up, she shook and shivered like a lost, wet puppy in a rainstorm because she had nothing in her system. Jessica silently thanked God that they didn’t go sent straight to Bedford for all their sakes. They needed time to adjust to prison life and put the outside world behind them.

  Whenever the four of them got time alone, they planned and went over the course of action they would take when they arrived at the big house. Vonda took lead because all her brothers took time out and schooled her on what to do when they got there.

  1. Don’t Rat. If you and another inmate have a problem, you settle it amongst yourselves. You do not go to the CO. If you see something going on that shouldn’t be, keep it to yourself. It’s none of your business. You are an inmate, not a cop.

  2. Nobody is your friend. Having a friend on the street and having a friend i
n prison is two different things. Prison will expose you to who you really are, and you never know who you will become once you get inside. It is a jungle mentality once you get to prison, and it becomes survival of the fittest. Your best friend could be the one who sets you up to the police, so watch everyone, and trust no one—because everyone changes.

  3. You only got two days in prison that really matter: the day you walk in and the day you walk out. Everything in the middle doesn’t count, so do what you have to do to survive.

  4. Fight or get fucked. If an inmate exposes you to be weak when you first get to prison, you will be fucked over your entire time there. In other words, if an inmate takes something of yours when you first get to prison, they will be taking from you till the time you leave prison. It’s no two ways about it.

  5. If someone disrespects you in any way, try your very best to take their fucking head off and have no mercy when you do it.

  6. Never accept anything from an inmate, because it is never free.

  7. When you first get there, don’t look away from anyone, because they are trying to read you and betting on how long it’s going to take them to cop you. Don’t give them anything to bet on.

  They went over this hundreds of times in their two weeks at Rikers, and by the last day before they were to be bussed upstate, Lynn and Tiny had finally seemed to pull it all together and now they were all focused. Ready for whatever lay ahead for them the next seven years.

  **********

  Bedford Hills Correctional Facility

  Bedford Hills Correctional Facility was a maximum security prison that housed some of the most notorious and dangerous women in New York State. When the girls arrived through the gates of the facility, the first thing they noticed was watchtower that housed armed officers with shotguns. The second thing they noticed, and were very surprised to see, were inmates walking around the compound like they owned the place, gawking at the bus of new arrivals.

  Whether it for was mental torture or was just procedure, the officers kept them sitting on the bus for what seemed like an hour after they arrived. Then, finally, the officers started calling off names. All four girls knew that it was already showtime because the betting was about to begin. They put on their game faces with the evil eye to boot. They were met with a lot of kisses and cat calling, but for the most part, all four girls did exactly as they were told and kept their heads up and didn’t look away.

  Inside central processing was even worse as officers, male and female alike, barked orders at them as they monitored their every move. Speak only when spoken to, move only when they said “move,” and jump when they said “jump.”

  Nothing was worse than when they had finished processing their paperwork and had to be strip searched. All stood as naked as the day they were born, and they were told to bend and squat. They had every part of their body cavities inspected. Jessica was amazed as she watched some of the other girls stand and act as though it was a normal occurrence. She and her friends stood awkward and uneasy as they tried to cover any private parts they could humanly cover. Jessica wasn’t at all happy about the setting and especially the smell that emanated from some of the women—it smelled of corn chips and dry, rotted fish.

  After they were strip searched and had absolutely every material item taken from them, they were given state-issued clothing and bedding. The color green would become their color of choice for the next few years. Then the moment had finally arrived; the four girls were assigned to their housing area: 121 B, the back building—a.k.a. the Jungle. The jungle was where all girls were sent with a five or more year sentence, and it was definitely the most dangerous house on the compound. To get to the back building, you had to walk through a long tunnel from the front to the back. Many things had happened in the tunnel over the years, and the area was made famous for killings and the most common place for robberies. It became common knowledge to never walk the tunnel alone, and above all, watch your back.

  The girls got lucky by all being assigned in the same housing unit. As they walked up to the last gate waiting to get into their unit, women began milling around awaiting the first dibs on the fresh new meat. The hardened women in 121B were more blatant than the ones in the front building with their sexual innuendos and taunts toward the new girls.

  Just as they were let in Vonda turned around, her eyes on fire, and she said, “Y’all ready?”

  Each girl was afraid, but ready, and they nodded back. Even though they carried bulky clothing and linen, they still managed to stick out their fists, unite, and say, “Get ’Em Girls!”

  Buzz.

  The gate finally opened, and each knew that this was the first day of the rest of their lives. They would never be the same person they once were when they walked through those gates. As soon as they walked in the house, the inmates were lined up and in their faces, haggling which one of the girls would be their bitch.

  “Oh, shit . . .” one girl said when she spotted Vonda. “This tall bitch is definitely mines.” She caressed Vonda’s ass.

  Like a streak of lightning, Vonda dropped all her items and tore into her molester with all the fury of hell. Jessica followed suit and dropped her items and came to her friend’s assistance by punching the girl in the face. The beaten prisoner’s friends came to her aid by the dozens and began whipping and stomping Vonda and Jessica as if they were rag dolls.

  Sheer reaction caused Tiny and Lynn to follow suit, and they pounced into the melee to help their fallen friends. But they too fell victim to the same beating as Vonda and Jessica as a barrage of stomping and fists rained upon them as well. The Get ’Em Girls refused to submit, and a huge circle had formed as the inmates watched and cheered in a bloodlust frenzy at the lopsided assault on the new girls.

  The girls didn’t even hear the alarm go off as they continued fighting as if their lives depended on it. The police came busting through the crowd and broke up the melee. Bloodied and battered, none of the four girls gave the police an easy way to go as they cursed and struggled all the way out of the house and into solitary confinement for the next thirty days. The girls adrenaline-filled bodies smiled wickedly all the way to the hole, because they knew they’d won a small victory. They’d all fought back valiantly and violently despite being outnumbered five to one. They knew that the other inmates would think twice before they tried putting their hands on one of them again.

  **********

  When the girls finally got out of solitary confinement, they were welcomed back into the house with evil stares or light nods. At that point, they were either hated or respected. That suited the girls just fine, because above all, at least everyone now knew that they would not be easy prey. The entire house also knew, most importantly, that if you fucked with one of them, you had to fuck with all of them. Over the next few days, the girls kept to themselves. They ate together, showered together, and walked the yard together. None of them wanted to be caught out there alone if anything would have jumped off. They knew that it would only be a matter of time before they were tested again, but they never expected it to go down so soon and by whom.

  Corrections officers had three tours, morning, evenings, and overnight shifts. They had four officers on each tour. Two in the bubble, which was inside the control room, and two who actually walked the dorms. Most of the officers were there to do their jobs and go home, but you always had the ones who took their job too seriously or loved it too much. The others tried to get everything they could out of it by taking advantage of the weak. The latter would be Officer Clooney and Officer Landry, who worked the graveyard shift.

  Officer Clooney was third generation, uneducated poor white trash, and the entire prison hated him because he showed no mercy or respect for inmates. His tall, wiry body and short, close-cropped dark hair made him look like the local rednecks who’d settled in the area since the prison was built in 1918. Without these state jobs, and the business that it brought to the area, Officer Clooney would have definitely been an inmate in some other pr
ison in New York State long ago.

  Officer Landry was female and gay, and she definitely fit in the category of loving her job a little too much. She was a butch woman who favored a man in every sense, down to prickly hairs that sprouted from her chin and upper lip.

  These rogue guards ran everything from drugs to prostitution and loved to take advantage of all the new girls, especially the young ones. The new arrivals—Vonda, Jessica, Tiny, and Lynn—definitely fit the bill. When Clooney and Landry landed the job together over eight years ago, they were in pussy heaven and quickly learned they had something in common and personally requested floor duties, which required them to personally escort and watch the girls take showers. It would be only a matter of time before they would take the liberty and taste the product sooner than later. They were also the biggest supplier of drugs inside the Jungle, and had handpicked workers—all inmates—to sell it for them. Together, Officer Clooney and Officer Landry wreaked havoc for years by raping, extorting, or anything else inhumane or against their oath, as they walked the floors of the dorm.

  It was 6AM, and the girls stood in the chow line for breakfast. Clooney and Landry had breakfast duties, monitoring the movement of the inmates.

  Landry walked over to Clooney and gestured in the new girls’ direction as they stood on the line holding their trays. She whispered, “Look what we got over there.” Landry leered over in their direction and said excitedly, “Holy fucking shit! Look what the cat just dragged in.”

  “They can’t be but barely eighteen,” Clooney said, as saliva started foaming on the side of his mouth. Clooney’s eyes narrowed as he honed in on Tiny. “Oh, my God,” he said in a slight country drawl, “look at that little one. She don’t look but thirteen. She’s mine,” he said quickly, staking claims on her.

  “That’s fine with me,” said Landry. “You can have the guppy.” Her eyes peered on Lynn’s huge breasts and ass. She licked her lips. “Because I want the big game.”

  After the girls collected their food from the chow line, they began walking to a table in the rear. As they passed a table, an inmate stuck out her foot and tripped Lynn up, making her fall to the ground and causing her tray of food fall everywhere. Vonda, Tiny, and Jessica helped her up and stepped in front of the girl who’d done it.