Jail Cell Love Affair - 1. The Crime and Arrest

Bully Williamson, who didn't like his given name of Bullard, started watching the two fags soon after they moved into the apartment next door. He first noticed them when they kissed each other goodbye one morning. He'd stepped out of his apartment while they were still lip locked. He felt disgusted the rest of that day. He kept his eyes open for an opportunity do make them pay for their perversity. One hot summer night, he got it.

He'd prepared in many ways to attack them. Late each night, he would walk out of his apartment and check to see if they forgot to lock their door. One night, he hit the jackpot. He walked in quietly and looked around. They were asleep in bed, both above the covers. He left quietly to get latex gloves and the two hypodermic needles he'd prepared. The propofol he stole from the hospital's surgical prep room would do the trick.

********Graphic violence warning********

He came back to the fags' apartment. One was sleeping on his back, Stephane, while the other, Fred, was on his side facing the first. He was using the smallest hypodermic needle he could find, hoping the needle prick wouldn't wake them. But just to be sure, he held his hand over Stephane's mouth while he drugged him. Stephane tried to scream but couldn't. Within a minute, he was out cold. He got behind Fred and stabbed him in the ass with the second needle, immediately plunging the entire dose and jumping on top of him. Fred struggled a little, but was no match for the much bigger man, who by then, had straddled him. Second fag subdued.

Next, he yanked off Stephane's shorts. He put on a condom, pushed Stephane's legs up toward his chest and forcefully entered him. He thrust as hard and as fast as he could. When he came, he didn't realize that a tiny bit of semen escaped the condom through a pinhole. Kneeling over Stephane's chest, he strangled Stephane until he was no longer breathing.

He moved over to Fred's side of the bed, pulled down Fred's shorts and began masturbating him. The irony of the homosexual act escaped him. Once Fred came, he scooped some up and rubbed it around Stephane's ass, pushing some into his anus. He took the bloody rubber and rubbed it all over Fred's cock. He pulled Fred's shorts back up. He pulled the blanket at the foot of the bed over the two men. As he was about to strangle Fred, he heard a voice, probably coming from outside the apartment. He panicked, running to the door to wait for whomever it was to pass. He didn't want to risk staying longer. Thinking Fred would be accused of the murder, he smiled, locked the door as he left, and thought to himself 'one fag dead, another will spend his life in jail. Not a bad night's work.'

********Graphic violence end********

The next morning, Monday, the alarm went off at 7:00 as it did every weekday. Fred struggled out of bed, thinking he was more tired than usual. He couldn't wait to tell Stephane about the weird dream he had. Some big guy pinched his ass and then sat on him. Fred wasn't large by any stretch of the imagination, so big guy was relative. Bully was five foot-ten, one hundred and eighty-five pounds. Fred was five foot-five, and one hundred and forty pounds if he had rocks in his pockets. Short, black hair, dark blue-grey eyes, and clean shaven. Twenty-eight, but he looked closer to fourteen.

"Wake up sleepyhead. Stephane? What the fuck?"

Fred saw Stephane was naked under the covers but didn't look close enough to see beneath his lower abdomen. He never slept like that. Then it got worse. He couldn't wake him up and he didn't seem to be breathing.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

Holding back tears, Fred told the operator, "My partner's not breathing, I can't wake him up. Send an ambulance."

The operator confirmed the address, and Fred started crying and pacing. He was beginning to realize his dream may not have been a dream after all. Whether imagined or not, it was now a nightmare.

The police arrived before the ambulance, knocking loudly. Fred went to let them in, wondering why the deadbolt wasn't engaged. They confirmed that Stephane was dead, but the official call would have to come from the coroner, whom they contacted. They questioned Fred about what happened.

"I woke up, tried to wake Stephane, but he didn't wake. Then I noticed he wasn't breathing so I called for an ambulance."

"Nothing else?"

"Well, at first I thought it was a dream, but I guess it wasn't. I dreamt that someone pinched my behind then sat on me. I'm thinking now, maybe I was sedated."

"When the M.E. gets here, we'll want to get a blood sample to confirm that."

"Of course."

The police then lifted the blanket off Stephane, seeing a small pool of blood beneath his lower body, and what looked like ligature marks around his throat.

"Mr. Jamers, would you mind letting us see your, um, penis?"

"Why?"

"It looks like your partner was raped."

"Oh my God."

"Will you show us?"

"No!"

"I'm sorry, then. We'll have to detain you, on suspicion of murder."

"What? Murder? I didn't do anything."

"That may be true. But it's not our call to make."

Officer Arnold Linton read Fred his Miranda rights and handcuffed him. Detectives were called and a backup patrol car was dispatched to transport Fred to the station, where he would later be booked and charged with murder. Bully had heard the commotion next door and stood outside his door to watch, along with a few other neighbors. He was overjoyed when he saw the faggot he left alive being led away in handcuffs.

At the station, Fred requested a lawyer. Since he didn't already have one, a public defender was called. He was a real estate lawyer, so he had no qualms about getting someone more qualified to represent him.

"Mr. Jamers?"

Fred was sitting, staring blankly at the table when he heard his name. Looking up, "Yes."

"I'm Mark Watson from the Public Defender's office. Can you tell me what happened?"

Fred recounted what happened and what he told the police at his apartment.

"They asked to see your penis?"

"Yes. I looked after they put me in here. There's blood on it. I don't know how it got there."

"Did you have anything alcoholic to drink last night?"

"No. I almost never drink. They wanted to take blood as well, to see if I was drugged. That would be good if I was, right?"

"In most cases, yes. The DA may argue that you drugged yourself to avoid suspicion."

"If I did that, wouldn't I have washed the blood away?"

"Yes. But I'm on your side. They'll do whatever they can to make you look guilty."

"When the police knocked this morning, only the door was locked, not the deadbolt. That probably looks good for me, right?"

"Was the deadbolt locked when you went to bed?"

"I don't know. Probably not. I guess it couldn’t have been."

"If you could remember for sure and that it wasn't locked, that could help your case. But I have to tell you. On the surface, it doesn't look good for you."

After about an hour of waiting, locked in the interview room, an assistant DA finally arrived.

"Hi Mark. Hello," looking down at some papers, "Mr... Jamers. I'm ADA Patrick Lofton. You're being detained under suspicion of the murder of one Stephane Thibedeau. I understand you refused police at the scene to view your penis. I have a court order here instructing you to do so, and allowing the collection of any evidence found thereon, plus blood to be taken. You can read that while I get a detective and nurse to perform those tasks."

The ADA left.

"Do I have to show them?"

Reviewing the order, "Unfortunately, Mr. Jamers, you do."

"You're on my side, so you can call me Fred. But if they do that, it's going to look really bad."

"I can't argue that. We'll hear everything they have against you at the arraignment tomorrow morning. But like I said, so far, it's not looking good for you."

A detective came back with the ADA and nurse. He temporarily uncuffed Fred, with a warning to not do anything stupid. Fred lowered his shorts as requested. The detective took three photographs, then gloved up and ran wipes over the dried blood and semen on Fred's penis, bagging each of the wipes separately. He handed Fred a couple more wipes so he could clean off the rest. The nurse then took two vials of blood.

"He'll be processed and placed in lockup now. You can see him again once he's there."

The ADA knocked on the door and a uniformed officer took Fred to be fingerprinted, photographed, and whatever else.

The next morning, Fred was taken across the street to the courthouse for the arraignment. Mark Watson was already there. It was a slow crime day yesterday. Fred's was one of only a small number of cases. Lucky for him, he was called first. His pain would move to the next phase quickly.

"State of Texas vs. Frederick J. Jamers. The charge is murder in the first degree."

"Thank you, bailiff. Mr. Watson, how does your client plead?"

"Not guilty, your honor."

"Accepted. Mr. Lofton?"

"Thank you, your honor. The defendant is charged with the murder of Stephane Thibedeau. Mr. Thibedeau was found in his bed, naked, blood and semen in and around his anus. Evidence of strangulation was present. No evidence of forced entry. When the arresting officers arrived, they noted that the exterior door to the apartment was locked. The defendant was found to have blood and semen on his genitals. Preliminary DNA tests indicate the blood was consistent with Mr. Thibedeau's, type matching as well. The semen found in Mr. Thibedeau and on the defendant's genitals was also consistent with Mr. Jamers' preliminary DNA results. A complete test will be performed on the samples to determine an exact match."

"Thank you. Mr. Watson?"

"Mr. Jamers avows no knowledge of the incident and believes he was drugged prior to the murder. He believes the apartment door was unlocked the previous night, allowing free entry to the apartment by the perpetrator of the crime. He was also unaware of the blood and semen on his genitals until he arrived at the police station. Finally, he believes the semen was obtained without his permission and the blood was placed on his genitals by an unknown third party."

"Your honor, if I may?"

"Yes, Mr. Lofton."

"The state believes the defendant drugged the victim, performed the rape and murder, and subsequently drugged himself to avoid suspicion."

"Objection, there is no foundation or way of proving that statement."

"Sustained. Facts only today, Mr. Lofton."

"Sorry, your honor."

"Anything else gentlemen?"

"No, your honor."

"Court finds sufficient evidence to hold the defendant for trial. Request for bail, Mr. Watson?"

"Yes, your honor. The defendant has no prior record, is gainfully employed, and does not possess a passport. We believe he is not a threat to leave the jurisdiction."

"Mr. Lofton?"

"Due to the severity of the crime, we believe that the defendant is indeed very likely to flee the jurisdiction and request bail be denied."

"Agreed. Bail is denied. The defendant will be remanded into custody. Trial will be set for... eight weeks from today, October tenth. Will that be enough time for the prosecution?"

"Yes, your honor."

"The defense?"

"Yes, your honor."

"Very well. Preliminary motions will be due six weeks from yesterday, September twenty-fifth. Mr. Lofton?"

"Fine, your honor."

"Mr. Watson?"

"That is acceptable, your honor."

"Then we are adjourned."

Next up - "Jury Selection and the Prosecution's Case"