Keyshia and Clyde (22 page)

He looked at Keyshia with flames in his eyes and said angrily, “Oh, yes, I can!”

“If you do, Clyde won't have a chance to get out of the penitentiary.” This stopped him cold, and he turned to look at Keyshia.

She explained, “We got to let her keep thinking she's safe, Ceasar, if we have any chance of getting him out. She's his ticket out.”

He took off his jacket and hung it back in the closet. He took a seat to finish hearing her out. Keyshia put her head down and said sadly, “Ceasar, there's something else I got to tell you, but you got to help me out and tell me everything that you know.”

Chapter 36
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It took almost a year, but a hearing to determine if there were grounds for appealing Clyde's case was finally scheduled at the federal district court in a month. But Keyshia was concerned. She had used her firm's information to process the appeal forms and found out that they had to be present at the appeal hearing.

Keyshia was now in her first year of law school at Fordham University, which was not far from John Jay, where she often went by Professor Akills's office to talk law and get his opinion. One day he asked Keyshia to come see him, and when she walked into his office he got right to the point: “Ms. Simmons, I recommended you to an old colleague of mine from law school, Conrad Coffield, who is now the local U.S. attorney for the eastern district, for a three-year internship. It's grunt work, it's working with the government enforcement agencies such as the U.S. District Attorney's Office, the FBI, the ATF, Secret Service, and the Treasury Department. It's quite a coup for a young, up-and-coming law student like yourself. It's on the table if you want it.”

Keyshia thanked Professor Akills for considering her and told him that she would keep it in mind and try to give him her decision soon.

Keyshia's classes were tough enough, and with the burden of news she'd just received about Clyde's representation for the appeal, an internship was the last thing on her mind. She didn't see how she would be able to handle an internship so early in her law career, even though she knew she would eventually have to intern as a requirement for her degree. She was already striving hard to keep up with her fellow students, whom she found cutthroat and competitive in their quest for the top spot. Keyshia even had to stop working full-time during the school year with Hemmingway, Adorno, and Shaw, because the classes were so demanding and rigorous, opting to work part-time during the school months and full-time during the summer. She remained especially close with Ms. Hemmingway, who was proud of her and became one of her biggest supporters.

The hearing was exactly one month away, and if she and Ceasar hired someone other than the firm she worked for, they would have to start the process all over again. If she went to her boss, she would risk losing her job if they found out she'd forged the firm's name on the appeal forms. So Keyshia decided to do the unthinkable and represent the case herself.

Though Keyshia knew the case now like the back of her hand, she had to learn about the federal appeals process. She spent every waking hour reading and studying. She wasn't about to leave anything to chance, so she went to Professor Akills, who was once a fierce criminal defense attorney who tried cases for both government and private agencies.

She visited his office one evening and asked if she could speak to him about something.

“Have a seat, Ms. Simmons. I hope this is about you accepting the internship position, because it won't be on the table forever.” It had been a couple of weeks since he'd first mentioned it to her.

“Yes, Professor, I'm thinking about it,” she lied. “But I'm here for something else.”

He stared at Keyshia, amused, because it wasn't often she came to him for advice. “Well, what is it?”

A little embarrassed, she said, “Well, I have this friend, you know, who's been in jail and needs some help, and I said I'd help him.” Professor Akills observed her closely and listened to her stumble over her words. He had seen this many times in his career as an attorney. He knew automatically that she was hiding something and let her know it.

“What you're really asking me, Ms. Simmons—and correct me if I'm wrong—is that your boyfriend has been arrested and you need me to help you with the case. Yes?” Keyshia wondered if she was that obvious. Her silence confirmed that he was right.

“What else, Ms. Simmons?”

Happy at least that he hadn't made her admit he was right, she quickly told him the rest. “He has a hearing regarding his appeal in a couple of weeks, and I wanted to get your input on the case, procedures, and stuff like that.”

“What grounds is the appeal based on?”

“Inadequate representation, exculpatory evidence that was ruled inadmissible by the judge that was clearly mishandled by his lawyer. The resulting charges against him were incorrect, and the U.S. attorney pursued armed robbery charges when at most he was guilty of assault.”

“I see. Another convicted criminal who feels that he got railroaded by his own lawyer.”

Keyshia was angered by his statement, but said nothing.

He smiled and said, “Just the cases that I like, Ms. Simmons, because we do have a lot of incompetent lawyers out here. That's why I became a professor; I detested being around them.” He looked at the folder on Keyshia's lap and asked, “Is that the case there?”

Keyshia nodded. “It is.”

He said, “Well, you can leave it on the desk. You said his appeal hearing is in two weeks?”

Keyshia nodded again.

“You'll be hearing from me.” He turned his back on her in his swivel chair, and that was her cue that her time was up.

With a three-day weekend ahead of them, Ceasar and Keyshia decided to get away for the weekend, but they had no particular place to go. Keyshia suggested that they go upstate and visit his dad. Initially, Ceasar rejected the idea, but then he remembered Clyde's change of heart regarding their father and decided to judge him for himself. Unknown to Ceasar, Keyshia had another reason to see their father—she wanted to ask him some questions that had been bugging her and about some facts that didn't add up in her mind.

They rented a car that Friday evening and stayed overnight in a motel near the prison. Clyde's father had been moved to a medium-security prison, which was fortunate for Keyshia because it meant she could visit him even though they weren't blood relatives.

Inside the waiting area, which doubled as the cafeteria, Ceasar was nervous but ready. Even though he had better memories of his father than any of his brothers, he still knew nothing about the man.

When the inmates began to file in, they had no escorts and all were dressed in regular clothes. A familiar face that was the spitting image of Ceasar stepped out of the crowd and began walking in their direction. Even from a distance, the similarities were eerie, and as Keyshia looked at Ceasar, she could tell that he felt the same as he watched his mirror image approach him. When the man got close enough to see who his visitor was, he stopped in his tracks.

Ceasar was his firstborn, his first son, and he had a closer affection for him. The elder Barker began to slow his steps the closer he got to his son, from fear and from happiness. As they stood before each other, eyes watering, neither was sure what to do. But then their natural instincts took over and they hugged each other as if their lives depended on it. The father grabbed hold of his oldest son and cried out loud, with no regard for anyone around him, and he would not stop. Keyshia stood back, holding Clyde, Jr. and became overwhelmed with tears herself as she watched the emotional moment unfold.

“I miss you, son” was the only thing his father could say.

After the reunion, Ceasar wiped the remaining tears from his now red eyes and introduced him to Keyshia. “Dad, I want you to meet Keyshia, Clyde's girlfriend.”

His father smiled and gave her a hug. They pulled apart, and he beamed at her proudly. Keyshia saw where Clyde got his physical build from. Though she knew his father was in his late fifties, he was still fine-tuned and muscularly built and looked as if he were in his early thirties.

“So, you're Keyshia? Clyde told me all about you. You're even prettier than he said you were.” Keyshia blushed. “I knew he was in love with you because every time he mentioned your name his eyes lit up.”

Ceasar moved closer to Keyshia and announced proudly, “Dad, I want to introduce you to your grandson, Clyde, Jr.!”

His father's eyes widened and he paused as he looked down at the young boy. “That's my . . .”

Ceasar smiled broadly and nodded. “That's right, he's your first grandson!” He looked at Keyshia and she nodded also.

He slowly approached Clyde, Jr. and knelt before him and gathered him up in his strong arms and said softly, “Hey, Clyde, I'm your grandpa and I love you.”

Amazingly, Clyde, Jr. said, “You my real grandpa?”

He nodded. “Yes, I'm your real grandpa.”

Clyde, Jr. suddenly wrapped his arms around him.

They were allowed out on the grounds and sat at a table outside to eat. Two hours later, Clyde, Jr. fell asleep, and Keyshia gave father and son time to get to know each other. It seemed to her that Mr. Barker was telling his son the same things he'd told Clyde years earlier, because they did more crying and hugging instead of talking during most of their conversation. After their private time, Ceasar called Keyshia back over to discuss family issues and to give his father the bad news about his sons.

His father was deeply hurt when he found out about both his sons being arrested and convicted. When they told him they suspected that Martha may have been involved somehow, Keyshia thought that he would explode right there, because his blood was boiling so bad that veins began protruding from his forehead. He had to get up for a moment and walk around in order to calm down. He sat back down, and with his head hung low, he asked, “How much time did they get?”

Keyshia looked at Ceasar with uneasiness. “Sonny copped out to ten years,” said Ceasar. There was a long pause.

“And Clyde?” he asked. There was a longer pause, until his father stared Ceasar in his eyes for an answer.

“Clyde took his case to trial and lost, and they . . .” Ceasar cleared his throat and said, “They sentenced him to twenty years.”

His father went limp and looked as if he would have a heart attack right then and there. He let out a loud moan and cried, “No . . .”

Ceasar looked at Keyshia and said quickly, “But, Dad, that's one of the reasons we're here. We're trying to get him out, but we need your help!”

He slowly lifted his head and took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. “What can I do to help my sons?” he asked.

Ceasar edged closer to his father. “Keyshia is a law student now, and she's going to ask you some questions that will help out Clyde with his appeal hearing that's about to come up.” His father nodded.

Keyshia was back in school that Tuesday and had just finished taking a test. She was completely spent and wanted nothing more than to get home and rest. Maneuvering through the crowd of students, she heard, “Ms. Simmons.” She turned around to see Professor Akills motioning her over to him. Surprised to see her old professor in her school, she walked over to him quickly. In his arm, he carried the yellow files that she had given him the previous week.

He waved for her to follow him into a professor's office. Keyshia walked in and looked around. She watched the professor hastily throw the file on the desk and stare at Keyshia in dismay. Disappointment began racing through her head as she cursed herself for bringing it to him in the first place. She stood in front of the desk, unsure if she should speak, so she just waited for him to say something.

“Have a seat, Ms. Simmons,” he said sternly. Keyshia bit down on her bottom lip, thinking the situation was growing tenser by the minute.

“Ms. Simmons, I took the liberty of reviewing the entire case this weekend.” Keyshia thought he was lying because it had taken her an entire month to figure it out, until he began stating the particulars of the case.

“In my thirty years of practicing law, I have never seen such an inept and shabby job of preparation for a federal trial as your boyfriend's lawyer did. He did absolutely nothing to disprove or dismiss the U.S. attorney's claim that he was involved in the bank robbery. The bank's videotapes clearly show that Mr. Barker entered the bank at eight-fifteen on the morning of May 24—unmasked, mind you—and clearly, according to a statement by . . .” He referred to a his notes and read, “. . . Mrs. Williams, assistant bank manager, stated that he was there seeking his brother, I believe his name was . . .” He looked at his pad again. “Yes, Ceasar Barker.”

Keyshia, excited, nodded with him.

“Now, if a person was going to rob a bank, or even be part of a robbery, for that matter, would he seek out a bank employee and let them know his name?”

Keyshia wanted to burst.

“And it doesn't stop there. According to the trial transcripts, he had just arrived from out of town. Is that correct, Ms. Simmons?”

Keyshia nodded. “Yes, we were together and had just pulled back into New York about seven-thirty that morning, coming from my family in South Carolina.”

“Trips like these have recorded documents. Cameras at every pit stop that would prove this, receipts, even tolls, but the lawyer didn't even bother to check on these things?”

Before she could answer, he said, “No, he did not!” The professor stared at Keyshia and said smugly, “Your boyfriend, Ms. Simmons—and it is only my opinion—will have his sentence reversed. All of the exculpatory evidence should be gathered, cataloged, and summarized as the core basis of the appeal. I'm not sure if this will overturn the verdict, but it will at least get you a new trial, if a competent lawyer presents these developments to a judge.” Keyshia was too dazed to react.

“Your lawyer's job now is to gather as many of these documents as possible.” Keyshia remained silent.

“Ms. Simmons, did you hear what I said, for Christ's sake? Your boyfriend has an excellent chance of having his sentence overturned!”

Keyshia suddenly jumped to her feet and ran over to her professor; she hugged him and gave him a huge kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Professor, thank you so much!” She backed away and had nearly run out the door when he called to her, “Ms. Simmons, don't forget your files.”

Keyshia scooped up the packet and thanked him again.