RIGHT ALLEY WRONG CAT

Tuesday, June 26, 2013 York, Pennsylvania Ray Davidson III# known amongst trappers and gun clappers as R.D#3, was a 44-year-old brother with a Harvard law degree, and ten years into his private practice. His skin was brown, his suits were dapper, and he was the most sought after defense attorney in the York City area. Harrisburg, and neighboring counties as well. Twenty bands was his going rate for felony offenses. Murder beefs would run thirty grand easy. If you had that kind of money, Say Davidson III was your guy. He rarely pled out, and didn’t take cases he wasn’t passionate about. !at’s how he kept his win percentage in the aid-nineties, “All rise,” said the court deputy, as the Honorable Judge Christmas exited his chambers in his Yale stride. His black cloak didn’t look so dark this day, and his sweeping blue eyes held brightness that seemed to settle the jam-packed courtroom. “You may be seated,” Judge Christmas advised, having already claimed his elevated seat on the bench. It was well known amongst his colleagues, and defendants alike, that Judge Christmas was the most liberal, independent thinking jurist in the York County Judicial Center. He thrived in the dignity, the integrity, and the authority of the criminal justice system, and never shied away from admonishing a prosecutor if necessary. Davonte Carter was standing next to Ray Davidson III when the Judge spoke. Davonte was wearing handcuffs, an orange jumpsuit, and a sharp ass 5 o’clock shadow on his beard to go with his wavy bald fade haircut. Davonte had dreamt of one day having his case put before a judge who would focus laser-like on the facts of the case and the law, instead