The solid metal door closed with a resounding, heavy thud. The noise of the detention center always surprised her. On one side of the door, a silence covered the lobby and the security area. On the other side, a roar of sounds echoed through the brick hallways; shouts from inmates, the rattle of chains, the footsteps of the guards in their boots.
Jane Stein moved toward the attorney visiting room. Her own steps, a low-heeled pair of dress shoes, contributed to the constant cacophony. Her knee length skirt swished as the barely five-foot-tall woman moved down the hallway. Her straight brown hair hung just past her shoulders, resting overtop of her suitcoat, itself covering a modest blouse.
The young public defender carried her briefcase in and set it down on a chair against the wall. Reaching into the bag, she grabbed her client's file, placing it on the table. She took off her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair. Sitting, she casually began flipping through the file.
The guard in the security area told her that she'd just made it in before shift change. Getting inmates to their attorney wasn't a high priority at the moment. Once her client had been deposited in the visiting room, most, if not all, inmate movement would be halted as they began a count. The guards would be scurrying around preparing for the next shift and their own anticipated departure.
Jane reviewed a few notes that she'd taken the first couple times she looked through the folder. Her client, Mr. Samuel Lamont Jones, was charged with sending naked pictures to his stepdaughter. His wife reported to the police that she had found messages on her daughter's phone from her husband soliciting sex from her thirteen-year-old girl. The prosecutor's office sent over the messages, along with pictures retrieved from the phone which were alleged to be Mr. Jones's semi erect penis. His wife had subsequently filed for divorce.
It was these pictures which Jane had stopped on in the file. In them, she saw a rather large black penis. It rested against the man's leg, a slight curve to one side. She'd never seen a black penis before. Of course, there were the rumors about the size of black men's penises; the stereotype of once you go black. At least, according to the picture, this was a large one, bigger than her husband's semi erect dick.
Various legal strategies ran through Jane's mind. The big concern was that a guilty finding would require Mr. Jones's to register as a sex offender for life. The jail time wouldn't be significant; her research found that he had never been convicted of a crime before, let alone charged. Registering for life was a substantial burden though, one that most of her clients were doomed to fail. She was hoping the prosecutor would offer a lesser charge that wouldn't require the registry.
She was considering the case when the correctional officer came in, followed by a 5'10" black man. He was not overly built, but not completely skinny either. She would best describe him as lithe.
"Good afternoon Mr. Jones," she said extending her right hand. "I'm Jane Stein. I'll be your attorney."
"Good afternoon to you too Ms. Stein," he replied, shaking her hand and sitting at the chair across the table from her. The correctional officer reached across the inmate and secured his right hand with a handcuff that was attached to the wall.
"Thank you sir," Jane said to the officer. The officer left the room pulling the door as he went.
"I know it's not pleasant being in a place like this, but otherwise, how are you doing?" she asked.
"This place is a hell hole. There are a bunch of wanna be thugs and racists. I wake up in the morning and can't believe I'm here. I never thought in a million years that I'd be in a place like this."
"I understand that. You have no record. It's just difficult. The prosecutor sent me the pictures that they got off of your stepdaughter's phone."
"I know my wife, ex wife, planted those on her phone. I never sent any messages or pictures to Jessica. You know, I didn't even have a password on my phone. I know that bitch set me up. She wants to get her hands on my family's business. Now I been sitting in this place for three months. Sorry for the language," he apologized.
"Well, let me show you the discovery. Then we can talk about strategy." Jane handed the printed out text messages across the table. "Take a look at the dates and the times. She if anything sticks out to you."
While the black man looked over the messages, Jane took the opportunity to look at him. Samuel's head was clean shaven. He wore the customary attire of an inmate awaiting trial, a green tshirt and a tan pair of pants with an elastic waistband. She'd noticed that he was about a foot taller than she was when he came in the room. She also had seen his mugshot in her file and could tell that he'd lost weight since it was taken. She couldn't tell exactly how old he was, she'd have to take another look at his date of birth. She guessed that he might have ten, maybe twelve years on her.
