The Big One: Part II

I am fucked. So fucked. These two asshole Jersey City detectives came walking over to where I was with their detective Sergeant with 89 bags of heroin cupped in their hands, laughing and with the biggest shit-eating grins on their face. The Sergeant looked at me like “Why did you lie to me?” and quickly pushed me up against the back of the paddy wagon there. Now there are two other cops talking to my buddy on the other side and about 10 cop cars there with 15-20 cops mulling around. But I kept my cool. I ran the scenarios through my head of how they knew because they knew. They knew what I was doing down there and how I had dope and all the details. The thought of me being on a wiretap did not even cross my mind at the time. That stuff is for the movies and for the big time drug dealers. Well, my guy was a big enough target for the time apparently. The fucking D-E-A was even there. Federal police. I am thinking this is a buy-bust day. Like a Taskforce Tuesday or something. And they targeted Duncan projects. That is the only thing I could come up with at the time. But I still had so many questions unanswered. Like how did they know there was more dope in the car hidden? They were adament about that. Was my guy an informant? No way. I’ve been buying off him for a few months now and quantities almost as much at times. They stripped search me in the middle of the parking lot at the Hudson Mall. Grabbing my nuts, making my squat and cough and doing every little thing they could to embarrass me. They threw me and me buddy into the back of a marked car, a cop got into my Pontiac and everyone cleared out in a matter of seconds. Off we went to the precinct.

Now I know the Jersey City precincts, so when we passed the one in West Side and were heading North up to the near Newport and the Heights I thought it odd. Where the fuck are we going? When I was arrested in Greenville, they took me right to the Greenville precinct. We arrive at this nondescript almost apartment looking like building. Right into the front door and up two flights of wooden, creeky stairs. It looked and smelled like an old school building. Right away they split us up again, but now they played good cop. I am still looking around wondering where the fuck we are. This wasn’t a precinct. I later found out it was the Jersey City Narcotics Squad’s and where they worked out of. They stripped searched me AGAIN. Even though I told him you already stripped me in the fucking parking lot, but I guess he got off on it or something. He was concerned “I had more on me”. After I satisfied his curiosity, we got down to business. The questions came. “Who, what, where, when, why, how, how much, how many times, how do you know him, how did you meet, who else do you know, how long you been buying at Duncan?” Etc, etc, etcetera. I answered what he already knew and shut my mouth for anything else because even I did not know what the fuck was going on. I am starting to get nervous now. We sat there for a good 4-5 hours in the office while they did paper work and my car got searched again. He did do us one favor and this I will never forget it. He knew, in his mind, even though there was almost 9 bundles that we weren’t ‘dealing’. At least in Jersey City. So he called the DA and told her the story how they popped these two young college kids from out of town with a bunch of heroin, but they were addicts and if he should book us into county. He was going to write us a summons and let us drive out of there right there and then, as long as she agreed to it. Well, she said no it was too much weight. So the car got towed. We waited another hour, got brought to BCI (Bureau of Criminal Identification) for mugshots and fingerprints and then to Hudson County Jail. We were both able to get bailed out in 2 days, and I was already on PTI for the previous possession charge.

Sick, depressed, upset, angry and with a massive drug problem I left school (never went back) and went right into a rehab in Pennsylvania 2 days later. The first of many. I am thinking now I must go to court in a few months to fight this possession charge and it’s going to be harsher than the first because a) it was more weight and b) it was my second offense in 6 months. Felonies. Well I waited, month after month after month for my court date. When it finally arrived in the mail with my date and charges listed, my jaw dropped.

COUNTS:
1. Possession of CDS (Heroin)
2. Possession w/ intent to distribute CDS (Heroin)
3. Conspiracy

Conspiracy?? What the fuck? When I finally went to my first court appearance my lawyer told me that this case was wrapped up in a bigger case targeting my guy and his crew. Wiretaps, 30 co-defendants, kilograms of drugs, DEA involvement, crossing state lines. Possibly a murder in there somewhere. What the fuck? I didn’t sign up for this. I am just some young idiot heroin addict who played with the wrong people. The prosecutor’s first offer to me was 8 years flat. My lawyer had to explain to him who I was, that I was a young, college kid with a drug habit and all I did was buy the drugs for my personal use. Ok. Second plea offer was 5 years with 4 no parole. Now my lawyer was angry at this young assistant prosecutor trying to make a name for himself with this case by putting everyone away. My friend I was with was getting the same deals as me. This is ridiculous.
After a few more months of back in forth in court and my lawyer talking to the ADA and judge behind closed doors, there was one piece of evidence that showed I was an addict and not selling, which was what they were claiming. And that was the empty bag that fell out the car door when I was initially stopped, which gave the cops probable cause anyway. That little empty bag saved my life. It went from 4 years upstate to 2 years supervised release (probation). BAM. *gavel slam*

It amazes me how these lawyers, judges and DA’s screw with people’s lives in a matter of mere seconds.

The 2 years on probation and rehab I went to in March 2009 are stories in itself. I will share them sometime.