When Maggie and Michael got to the courthouse late the next morning, Pauly, Chuck, and Jean-René were waiting for them. Michael introduced Chuck to Maggie.
“Well,” Maggie told Pauly, “the judge understands the circumstances and has agreed to help. Cam will be remanded to you and Chuck for transportation back to the US.”
“Yes. Jean-René has been telling me all about it,” Pauly responded. “Do I want to hear Cam’s whole story?”
“I don’t know it all yet. We’ll have to ask her tonight.” Then she looked at him. “Have you eaten?”
When Pauly shook his head, she said, “Let’s go get something and we can talk this through so you appear official.”
They laughed.
“I have work to do before the trial,” Jean-René told them, “so I’ll leave you here but I’ll see you in court this afternoon.”
Pauly held out his hand. “Thanks for meeting my plane. I am very happy to finally meet you.”
Jean-René shook his hand. “Et moi, aussi,” he said as he turned away.
Michael pointed the way to her car.
* * * *
Michael checked to see which room the hearing was in. Jean-René was already there. Maggie slid into the back row next to him, Michael beside her. Pauly and Chuck sat next to them. The room was filled with spectators.
At that moment, the court bailiff announced. “All rise, court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Josephine Starkley presiding.”
The judge entered and sat at the bench
The bailiff announced, “You may be seated.” She turned to the judge and handed her a stack of papers.
“These are the seven individuals arrested in a house that was raided by the City Police on Wednesday.”
“Bring them in.”
The bailiff nodded to another court attendant and the door on the far side of the bench was opened and seven people in their street clothes were led into the court and sat down in the line of chairs behind the defender’s desk. Cam was the fifth in line.
Judge Starkley had been scanning the files.
“Who was in charge of this raid?” the judge asked.
“I was, your Honor.” A tall man with thick dark hair said as he stood up. He had on his dress uniform.
He stepped forward and was sworn in.
“Identify yourself.”
“I am Captain Casper Wilson of the Magog Police Department.”
“Explain this case, Captain.” The judge sat back.
“Your Honor, Wednesday morning we received an anonymous call that said a house was having an unusual amount of visitors at all hours of the day and night. We established a stake-out and observed several people going into and coming out of the house. We obtained a search warrant on probable cause from Judge Warren Miller.” He handed the warrant document to the bailiff. “We stopped one young man as he came out. He was showing signs of drug intoxication. We asked what was in the house and he was reticent to talk to us. After more questioning, he admitted that he’d bought some methamphetamine in there. I assembled a contingent of officers and we entered the house and arrested seven people and confiscated two kilograms of cocaine, five kilograms of methamphetamine in different forms, and six grams of uncut heroin. These seven people were in the house. One met us at the front door, the rest were in a room in the basement.”
The judge nodded. “Did you determine who was in charge there?”
“We think so, your Honor. Mr. Preston Shermer, the owner of the house, seemed to be in charge.”
Preston suddenly stood up. “Your Honor! I object. Just because I own the house doesn’t translate to being in charge!”
The judge banged her gavel onto the block.
“You may not object at this point, Mr. Shermer. You’ll have your chance to answer these allegations. Sit down.”
Preston clenched his mouth and slipped back down into his chair. There was soft laughter and tittering round the court room.
Again Judge Starkley banged her gavel. “Order,” was all she said, but several were sure they saw a tiny smile escape the corner of her lips.
Captain Wilson continued with his explanation of the day. The judge nodded and he was allowed to step down.
She looked at the seven defendants.
“This is a preliminary hearing. If you feel the decisions I hand out are fair, you may accept them and that will be that. If you want to contest them and go to a jury trial that can be done, too, but it will take a lot longer. Does everyone understand?”
The seven defendants all nodded.
“First I will deal with the minors in this case. Janelle Reynolds?”
Janelle got up and after looking at her barrister to make sure she was doing the right thing, walked over, and stood in front of the judge.
“Mrs. Peterson, I believe you are representing this girl,” the judge started.
“Yes, your Honor.”
“How do you plead, Miss Reynolds?”
Janelle looked up at her k, and then said, “No contest, ma’am.”
“Are her parents in court?”
Mrs. Peterson looked over at Ingrid and Clark who rose to their feet.
The judge looked over at them. “I take it you had no idea this was happening,” she said.
“Oh, no, your Honor,” Clark exclaimed. “None at all.”
Judge Starkley nodded and looked down at Janelle. “Miss Reynolds,” the judge said to her, “I believe this is your first offense. Did you learn anything from this experience?”
Janelle looked up in surprise. “Of course, your Honor. I learned a whole bunch.”
“Hopefully it was a bunch of good things,” the judge said, trying not to smile.
“Yes, ma’am,’ Janelle said softly.
“Then I am going to sentence you to ninety hours of community service. If you work four or five hours a week, that can be completed in as little as five months. In addition, you will be released into your parents’ supervision for the term of six months. If you do not incur any other trouble during that time, your charges will be expunged and you will have a clear record. Stay out of trouble, Miss Reynolds, and away from drugs. I will not lecture you about the ravages of such things at this time. I’m sure your parents will have something to say about that.” She looked over at Clark and Ingrid, who both nodded. “I will review your case in six months.” She banged her gavel on the block.
“Thank you, thank you,” Clark, Ingrid, and Janelle all said.
Janelle turned to Mrs. Peterson with a big smile and whispered her thank you. Mrs. Peterson directed her to go sit with her parents.
“Thomas Simpson,” Judge Starkley said, banging her gavel. “Mrs. Peterson, are you also representing him?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
Thomas walked over in front of the bench, Mrs. Peterson beside him.
“How do you plead, Mr. Simpson?” the judge asked.
“No contest, your Honor,” Thomas said softly.
“Are his parents in court?”
“No, your Honor,” Mrs. Peterson replied. “His father told me he wants nothing to do with what he referred to as his son’s debacle. He also refused to post bond.”
“What is the situation, Thomas?” she asked.
“He blew up, your Honor. He wants nothing to do with me. I haven’t heard from my mother.”
“Did you learn anything from this experience?”
“Yes, ma’am. I won’t do it again, ever.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard all the things I could tell you about drugs, so I won’t reiterate them here.” The judge took a deep breath. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen, ma’am,” he answered.
“When will you turn eighteen?”
“The end of April.”
“Are you in school, Thomas?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m a senior.”
“I’m a firm believer in education. How are your grades?”
“Mostly Bs and C-pluses, ma’am, but I have an A in Phys Ed.”
Judge Starkley nodded. “First of all, you will finish this year and graduate. However, since your father refuses to support you, I must remand you to Juvenile House until graduation. Transport will be provided to and from school. You will not be allowed afterschool activities and will return to Juvenile House each afternoon. Do you have an afterschool job?”
“Yes, your Honor. I work at Food Mart on weekends.”
“If they will retain your services, transportation will be provided there, too. I will review your case the first court date after graduation. Your grades and performance, both at work and at Juvenile House, will be considered. I’m sure you’ll learn a lot in Juvenile House. Use that time wisely, Thomas. I’m much stricter the second time anyone sees me in here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I believe a representative from Juvenile House will be here later this afternoon to pick you up. Sit down and observe the rest of these cases. You’ll see I’m much stricter with adults. Good luck, Thomas.”
“Thank you, your Honor.”
“Mrs. Peterson,” the judge continued, “if you feel that Thomas should be transferred to a senior facility when he reaches maturity, I will review the petition.”
“Thank you, your Honor,” she said softly.