Corrupt City. Tra Verdejo

Corrupt City - Tra Verdejo


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jumped in, hoping to save Lucky from himself. “I object, Your Honor. He is bashing my witness.”

      “Overruled.”

      “Earlier in your testimony, you stated you don’t have any children, Donald. Again, were you lying?”

      “I object, Your Honor!”

      “Withdrawn.” Matthew walked toward Lucky. “Is it true you have a pretty little daughter?”

      Lucky just sat there. Once he heard the word daughter, he automatically assumed the worst, that maybe they got to her. No one knew about his baby girl, so for Matthew to bring it up meant he knew something.

      After this trial he was going have to move his daughter to a new house. He was stuck in a tough situation. He didn’t want to admit he lied again and hurt this case even more. He assumed the defense had some type of paperwork to prove he was the father, but he took his chances anyway.

      The judge snapped, “Mr. Gibson, please answer the counsel!”

      “No, I don’t have a daughter. I have a god-daughter, who I haven’t seen in years.”

      “Is that your final answer?”

      “I object, Your Honor. Counsel is delaying this case in hopes he could trap my witness in his own words. It is obvious to the court the defense is hoping for a miracle mistake.”

      “Sustained. Counsel, let’s speed things up. We are not here on a paternity case. We would need a DNA test, and we don’t have time.”

      “I understand, Your Honor. I was trying to prove to the jury that Donald Gibson has no credibility.”

      Matthew walked back to his table and consulted with his team about the next step. They were hoping to keep pushing and hurting his credibility.

      Right before the judge banged his gavel, Matthew jumped up from the chair and continued his questioning.

      “Mr. Gibson, you stated you accepted bribes from criminals and important businessmen, correct?”

      “Yes, I did. Personally, from criminals only. The businessmen always dealt with my captain.”

      “If you weren’t present in those meetings, how can you accuse my clients of making under-the-table deals?”

      “I always waited in the other room while these meetings took place. Once the deals were made, I was always given a black garbage bag filled with money.”

      “But you never heard the bribes. You are only assuming.”

      “I don’t know the details of the negotiation, you are right, but if my cut is one hundred thousand, that’s more than assuming.”

      “Donald, for how long have you been snorting cocaine?”

      “Maybe five years. I was working on a case, and in order to join their organization, I had to snort cocaine. Only problem is, after that, I became addicted.”

      “So you are an addict?”

      Johnson jumped in again. “I object, Your Honor!”

      “Withdrawn. Do you have a problem with cocaine, Mr. Gibson?”

      “No, I’ve been clean since I left the force. Cocaine became a part of our job. We would snort every day, before we hit the streets. As a matter of fact, we snorted all day long, but those days are behind me.”

      “On the night in question, how much drinking and cocaine did you do before the shooting took place?”

      “I don’t recall how much cocaine, but it was a lot. Maybe three grams.”

      “You snorted three grams of cocaine?”

      “Not just me. Between all four of us, we used about three grams, and we all had about three to four shots of vodka.”

      “Is it safe to say that maybe you were too high to remember what you saw?”

      “No, it’s not. I clearly remember what I saw.”

      “But you were high and drunk, yet you want us, the jury, and the court of law to believe an ex-dirty cop and former drug addict. Sitting over there, we have three honest cops, fathers, and husbands. Why are you trying to sabotage their careers and families?”

      “What about Perry’s family? Who’s thinking about them?” Lucky stood up as he replied. Matthew finally got to him. “Listen, I know what happened that night. We killed an innocent man for no reason, and now we are hiding behind our badge, this city, and the law.”

      “Mr. Gibson, if you don’t sit back down, I will hold you in contempt!” the judge yelled at him. “Are we clear?”

      “Yes, we are clear,” Lucky said as he sat back down.

      By this time, everyone in the courtroom, including the judge, was losing a little patience. Matthew was trying his best to avoid asking the main questions he should be asking.

      The judge said, “Mr. Matthew, please get on with your case, so we could move to closing arguments by tomorrow morning.”

      “Mr. Gibson, didn’t you shoot your gun that night as well?”

      “No, I never drew my gun from the holster.”

      “All of my clients testified you were the first one to shoot back. Remember, you are still under oath.”

      “I never drew my gun, and I never shot it. There were no shell casings found on the scene that matched my gun. Those three officers over there killed Perry out of pure hatred. ‘Another dead, Black criminal. Who cares?’—Those were the words my captain used that night.”

      Again, the courtroom exploded. This time, some even rushed the three officers charged. They’d had enough and couldn’t hold back their anger. The extra court officers available were able to control the crowd rapidly, but not before Steve “Loose Cannon” got hit with a chair across his back that threw him to the ground, but he was okay.

      The judge banged his gavel and adjourned court until the following week. He then made his way out of the ruckus and ran straight into his chambers.

      Lucky didn’t want any part of the rumble. He made his way back into the holding cell, more concerned about disappearing again.

      Meanwhile, the police officers on the scene were slapping handcuffs on anyone that moved or supported the Coleman family. It was like something out of the movies.

      It took about forty-five minutes to finally get the courthouse under control. Those who weren’t arrested were sitting in their seats not knowing what to do next, shocked at the way things turned out.

      Lucky had some quick words with the DA.

      “Listen, Lucky,” Johnson said in a soft, worrying tone. “They’re going to try to move this case to another county, maybe upstate or Westchester. If we continue, I expect a hung jury. The judge will give me a date to hear the closing argument, but I guarantee that day will never come. They don’t want a deadlocked jury. This case will get moved, especially after the ruckus that just took place in the court.”

      “There’s nothing you could do to stop it? C’mon, brother, this is the time to step up. You sound like you giving up,” Lucky shot back in disbelief.

      “Giving up? Listen, I worked my ass off for this case. I believe your story. I know they killed that poor kid for no apparent reason. Since this case started, I have noticed the loopholes in our great government. I’m getting pressure from the fuckin’ mayor to plea-bargain down to a misdemeanor.”

      “What? That’s only a twelve-month sentence. They’ll be out in six months.”

      “I know, Lucky. I’m glad you came forward. You sure you don’t want to hang around a little longer? We could really use your help.”

      “Man the fuck up. They are testing you to see how far you will go. If you show fear to take chances or risk everything


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