Dark Star: Confessions of a Rock Idol

by Creston Mapes

  “Mr. Crazee.” Prosecutor Frank Dooley slowly approached former DeathStroke bassist for cross-examination. “Before this trial began, were you aware of anything known as ‘criminal hypnotherapy’?”

  “No sir,” Ricky said, still rigid.

  Dooley held no legal pad or notes. When he spoke to Ricky, he stood directly in front of him, reaching one hand out to rest on the wooden rail that separated the two men.

  “Look,” Dooley said. “I’m going to make this brief. Did Endora Crystal help you?”

  “She changed my life.”

  “And she did that by…?”

  “I guess you could say she helped my mind overcome my body’s need for drugs and alcohol.”

  “And in the years you knew Endora, did you ever know of an instance in which she hypnotized anyone for negative purposes—to hurt people or commit crimes?”

  Ricky looked straight at Dooley. “No.”

  “No,” Dooley confirmed. “In fact, other than the desperate allegations made by Brian Boone, we have neither heard nor been presented with one shred of evidence suggesting that Endora ever—in any way—hypnotized anyone with criminal intent.”

  Boone stood and started to speak but was cut off by Dooley.

  “In fact, Madam Crystal only helped people.” Dooley squeezed in the last line before Boone objected.

  “Your Honor, it seems that Mr. Dooley is drawing conclusions and lecturing the jury instead of questioning the witness. Has he concluded his cross-examination?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have not.” Dooley turned from Boone back to Ricky. “Mr. Crazee, what was your take on the relationship between Everett Lester and Endora Crystal?”

  “She hung out with Everett and the band for a long time—years. They were very close.”

  “Were they…romantically involved, in your opinion?”

  Ricky took in another enormous breath, letting it out audibly. “I don’t think so.” He shook his head.

  “You don’t think so,” Dooley repeated. “But the fact is, you’re not absolutely positive they were not involved romantically, is that correct?”

  “Well, I guess that’s true.”

  “Did you see them argue?”

  “Once in a while.”

  “Did Everett raise his voice to Endora?”

  “Yeah, I mean, they—”

  “Is that a yes?”

  Ricky hesitated. “Yeah.”

  “Did Everett Lester ever strike Endora?”

  “Well, they would kind of slap each other around, but it was pretty much in fun, most of the time.”

  “Most of the time,” Dooley said. “But what about the other times? Did you see him hit her?”

  Ricky shot a glance at me, then looked back at Dooley. “Once in a while I saw him shove her or push her down onto a couch…something like that, when he was really high.”

  “Uh-huh,” Dooley said, back at his table, leafing through a notepad with one hand. “And what about guns? Did you ever see Everett carrying a gun?”

  Ricky put his head down. “We used to do some target practice at a shooting range he built in one of his houses.”

  “Any other instances when you saw Mr. Lester with a gun?”

  “He sometimes carried one with him between hotels and concert sites…for protection.”

  “So, we have arguments with Endora, we have drugs, we have guns.” Dooley stood. “Is there any doubt in your mind, Mr. Crazee, that Everett Lester pulled the trigger that day last November?”

  Boone stormed to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor! Speculation. Mr. Dooley is…”

  “I know exactly what he’s doing.” Judge Sprockett glared at Dooley. “Objection sustained. Mr. Dooley, no more of that.”

  When I walked through the door to the sprawling rental home at Bal Harbour Village, Karen ran to greet me and was quickly followed by her parents and, to my surprise, my sister, Mary, and Jerry Princeton, who had flown in from Ohio earlier in the day.

  We hugged and laughed. They couldn’t say enough about my “speech” on CNN, which had become the talk of the networks. Then quiet reigned, as we each settled in, embracing the seriousness of the moment and our thankfulness for my current freedom.

  While I was gone, Karen and her folks had become well acquainted with Mary and Jerry. At Mary’s insistence, they all found rooms and put their luggage away. Jerry had a bedroom of his own, while Karen and Mary shared a large bedroom, as did Jacob and Sarah. They saved another single bedroom for me.

  I sat in wonder as Jerry and Jacob carried on a deep conversation, something about the media coverage surrounding my arrest. Karen and Mary felt like old friends after having spoken on the phone so regularly during my drug rehabilitation. They sat on a couch drinking Diet Cokes and gabbing with Sarah.

  For a moment or two, I stood at the kitchen sink, staring out at the rain as it watered the tropical foliage and sprayed the Atlantic surf in the distance. I had searched all my life for happiness and contentment—and now, finally, I was surrounded by it.

  But I also faced murder one charges.

  A desperate feeling took hold.

  Then, a soft hand on my shoulder. “Penny for your thoughts,” Karen whispered.

  I turned and put my arms around her waist, but did not speak.

  “Dollar for your thoughts?” She smiled, tilting her head to the side.

  “Just can’t believe what’s happened to me.”

  “Bittersweet, isn’t it?”

  “Yes…bittersweet.” I kissed her softly.

  We looked at each other for a long moment.

  “What if I go to jail?”

  “Then God goes with you…and so do I, in spirit.”

  “I don’t want that to be the plan.”

  “I don’t either,” she said, her hands squeezing the backs of my arms. “But we’re gonna make it, no matter what happens.”

  “I want you by my side, Karen Bayliss. I need you.”

  Our eyes searched each other.

  “I’ll be there, Everett Lester.”

  I held her close. “After the trial, if I get out…I’m going to ask you to marry me.” I set her away from me to look at her. Tears fell with her smile.

  “Why wait?” she managed.

  My heart leaped as I pushed her back a few more inches, and gazed into her eyes. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, I want to be your wife.”

  Then we embraced and my tears came.

  “I can’t marry you if I’m going to spend the rest of my life in prison. It wouldn’t be fair…”

  For the longest time, we just held each other.

  “Oh, Everett,” she said finally, hugging me tight, her head buried in my chest. “We’ve got to pray.”

  I closed my eyes. “I know…I know.…”

  “God, please, give us victory,” Karen whispered, “We pray you’ll set Everett free. Oh Lord, we long to share a life together. Please, have mercy. Find favor, dear Jesus…find favor. And let Everett use his testimony to win many others to You.”

  30

  I WOKE UP EARLY the next morning at the house in Bal Harbour. Quietly, I made my way downstairs to the foyer. Peeking out the slats in the plantation shutters at the front door, I saw dozens of cars and TV trucks lining the parklike street. Several dozen press people mulled about, smoking, eating doughnuts, and sipping coffee.

  “May I help you, Mr. Lester?” came a whisper from around the corner.

  The voice of the little woman startled me.

  “Hello!” I said. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Sonja,” she said through bright red lipstick and a beaming smile. “Mr. Harris asked that I be here to serve you and your company today.”

  “Well, wasn’t that nice of him. I bet you make a good cup of coffee.”

  “Yes, sir. Coming up.” She hustled off to kitchen in her white apron.

  “A tiny bit of cream and sugar,” I whispered, as her round little frame bounced out of sight.
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  The day’s newspaper lay in the foyer on a table beneath a stained-glass lamp. I picked it up and began perusing section A when Sonja came back with my coffee.

  “I’m going to go to my room for a bit, but I’ll be back for more of this, I’m sure.”

  “That will be fine, sir. I’ll be making a breakfast buffet today. Is there anything in particular you would like?”

  “Let’s see…I know some of the guests like pancakes and sausage. Plenty of coffee, and you’ll be all set.”

  After closing the door to my room and propping my pillow against the headboard of the bed, I crawled in, pulled the covers up to my waist, and read the top story of the day in the Miami Herald. It featured a small, full-color mug shot of me, the one taken the day before at police headquarters.

  Lester surrenders on murder warrant

  Rocker is booked, posts bail, speaks

  MIAMI—Shock rock legend Everett Lester flew from Kansas to Miami yesterday on a private jet to turn himself in to authorities who had issued a warrant for his arrest on murder charges a day earlier.

  Lester is being accused of murdering LA psychic Madam Endora Crystal, who was found dead from a single gunshot wound in the singer’s North Miami high-rise last November 11. Miami-Dade Prosecutor Frank Dooley said the county will likely seek a murder one conviction, a felony punishable by the death penalty or life in prison without parole.

  Once Lester’s jet pulled halfway into a hangar at Miami International Airport yesterday, he and friends deplaned in privacy; then he surrendered to authorities, was handcuffed with his hands behind his back and was escorted by squad car to police headquarters.

  As reporters and fans swarmed the police station, Lester’s attorneys immediately posted his five-million-dollar bail. The rocker was in and out of the precinct in less than one hour amid complaints of “special treatment” from onlookers.

  Before leaving in a black Lincoln Continental, which was escorted by a police motorcade, Lester spoke beneath lightning-filled skies of his recent conversion to Christianity, an event that has rocked the world.

  “I have found peace, joy, and the promise of eternal life in Jesus Christ,” Lester told the rambunctious crowd. “To you, the public, and to the many DeathStroke fans who will hear this message, I apologize to you from the bottom of my heart for misleading you with evil intent during my DeathStroke days.”

  Prosecutor Dooley said a grand jury is currently reviewing evidence in the case, and that he expects a formal indictment within days. At the indictment, Lester will have the opportunity to plead guilty or not guilty to the murder charges.

  “Everett Lester has been in and out of trouble ever since he was a youth,” Dooley told reporters outside police headquarters yesterday. “The drugs, the violence…they’ve caught up with him. The evidence in this case is extremely damaging. Our goal is to get this man off the streets, out of the public eye, before he hurts others.”

  Of Lester’s claim that he has become a born-again Christian, Dooley said, “That’s what they all say, once they get caught. It’s typical foxhole religion.”

  Lester will likely be free on bail until his trial begins but unable to leave the Miami-Dade jurisdiction. Once the trial starts, Lester will be incarcerated at the Miami-Dade detention center until he is either found guilty or exonerated.

  Due to Lester’s monetary holdings and worldwide fame, his trial promises to be one of the most sensational in history, with cameras in the courtroom and twenty-four-hour cable news channels making a blitz to show all.

  I folded the paper, rested it on my lap, and sipped my coffee—reading but not really thinking about the story in the small box on the lower left-hand portion of the front page. It was about a six-foot, eleven-inch white male who robbed a firearms store near Miami International Airport the day before.

  The man overpowered one employee, got two guns from behind a glass counter, loaded them, and attempted to flee. When another employee reached for the security alarm, the perpetrator fired shots, seriously wounding both employees, a father and son. The gunman was captured three blocks away, hiding in an abandoned office above a bakery. He was arrested and charged with armed robbery and two counts of attempted murder. His name: Zane Bender.

  Discarding the Miami Herald, I picked up my brown Bible from the nightstand and read in silence for fifteen or twenty minutes, then slipped out of the bed and onto my knees.

  Dear God, thank You for this day. Thank You for who You are and what You’ve done. You are mighty. You are alive. I feel You here with me.

  Lord…I need Your help. Please, Jesus, clear my name. Give me a good name. Set me free of these charges. I pray for Karen and her parents, for safety. Please give Karen and me life together here on earth. I know it’s selfish, but that’s what I long for. And give me a mighty testimony, so I can help many people find You.

  I’m thinking of Olivia this morning, God… My heart aches for her, for her mom and dad. God, please, would you heal that girl? Let her arise out of the condition she’s in—just like You helped so many people do in the Bible. Let her parents feel Your love and comfort. Help them to forgive me.

  Bless Mary and Jerry. May they find happiness together, with You as the center of their relationship.

  Help me be like You today. Amen.

  I had never seen Brian Boone as desperate as he appeared after Dooley had finished cross-examining Ricky. Following the day’s trial, Boone and I were given thirty minutes to meet in a stark white holding area, just off of courtroom B-3. We sat in two plastic chairs with a small, dingy yellow table between us, and a Miami-Dade police deputy stood at attention near the door.

  “I’ll be straight with you, Everett. I’m worried. We’ve played all of our cards.”

  “No, we haven’t. I haven’t testified. You need to put me on the stand tomorrow, Boone. That’s what I want!”

  “I think we need to change your plea to guilty,” he said, staring hard at me. “It’s not too late.”

  “Why? So I can get out when I’m ninety? Come on. I want to take this chance.”

  He dropped his head.

  The red-cheeked, baby-faced deputy looked straight ahead the whole time, as if he weren’t listening.

  “I just want a chance to tell my side of the story. All they know of me is the past. They need to see who I am today.”

  “Dooley will eat you alive.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  “I need to think about it some more,” Boone murmured, his head still down.

  “Will you be at the prison tonight? Will we talk again before tomorrow, or what?”

  “I’ll get in touch with you, one way or another.” He stood, looking at the guard. “Let me know if you have any more big ideas.”

  I found some cream-colored stationery and a black pen in the drawer of the desk in my bedroom at the house in Bal Harbour. I pulled out the desk chair, sat down, and began to write.

  Dear Olivia, Claudia, and Raymond,

  As you probably know by now, I am in serious trouble with the law here in Miami. I’m sure these latest charges have confirmed your worst thoughts about me. I’m sorry you feel the way you do and must admit, I cannot blame you.

  I did want to let you know, however, that I have changed. My love and concern for Olivia grow each day, and I can’t express the sorrow I feel about her condition and the fact that I am responsible. With Jesus Christ now living in my heart, I pray that our mighty God will heal your lovely girl—that He will raise her up to walk and talk and swim and cheerlead again.

  Please also know that it is my desire to pay for all of your hospital expenses and medical costs. If you continue your plan to file suit against me, I will gladly pay the amount determined by the courts.

  Claudia, my prayers are with you for strength and peace. Raymond, I pray that someday God will allow us to be friends. Olivia, I pray God will restore you.

  Again, please forgive me for the heartache I have brought to your world. I think about your
family often and will never give up hope for healing.

  Warm regards,

  Everett Lester

  Matthew 11:28–30

  ***

  The breakfast Sonja drummed up was scrumptious. Not only did she come through with thin, golden pancakes and sausage in maple syrup, but she created a fresh fruit bowl, egg casserole, and biscuits with white sawmill gravy. (She’s from the South.)

  The mood was upbeat and festive as we gathered around the huge dining room table, which was garnished with two crystal vases full of fresh flowers. Jacob and Sarah were still in their pajamas, but Karen and I were showered and dressed. Mary and Jerry were in their sweats, having just returned from a morning walk.

  “We sneaked out the back door and went down to the beach,” Mary said. “It was wonderful. I love this setting.”

  “Did the photographers follow you?” I asked.

  “For a little while,” Jerry said, “but we kept going and lost them. I think we did about four miles.”

  “I hope you guys can sneak out and visit the shops in the Village today,” I said to everyone.

  “Oh, I’m up for that!” Karen said. “How ’bout it, Mom? Are you with me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “What about you, Mary?”

  “Well, I don’t know…” Mary hesitated with mock sadness. “I m not sure I can be away from my fiancé for too long.”

  With those words, Mary lifted her left wrist up to her forehead, pretending to be distraught and at the same time revealing a sparkling solitaire diamond ring.

  “Yes!” I jumped up to hug my sister. “Congratulations! When did it happen?”

  Karen was up hugging Jerry in an instant, while Jacob and Sarah beamed and clapped from across the table.

  “This morning, of all times!” Mary blurted out, looking at the ring again. “Can you believe it?”

  “When will the wedding be?” Jacob asked.

  “We don’t know,” Jerry said. “We’re open to anything. Who knows, we may get hitched while we’re down here.”

  “Well…we can’t do that,” Mary said, acting like a wife already. “We’ll want to have the boys there. But other than that, it’s pretty wide open. Sometime within the next year, I hope.”