Betrayal in Black

by Mark M Bello

  “He felt terrible about what happened and questioned his ability to be a police officer. I thought he was going to resign. He decided he made a terrible mistake with Mr. Hayes. The guilt he felt over that man’s death was overwhelming. It was all he talked about.

  “‘He would say: Am I a murderer? A racist? Did I really pull an innocent man over for driving while black?’ He was upset, yes, but did I think he was capable of suicide? Never,” she ruminates.

  “Is this exactly how you found the body?” Brooks startles Brenda out of her thoughts.

  Brenda wipes her eyes. “Yes, Chief. I know the rules; touch nothing, call 9-1-1.”

  “You didn’t touch the note?”

  “What note? I didn’t notice a note. Where is it?”

  “There,” he points. “Next to the body.”

  “May I see it?”

  “It hasn’t been processed yet,” Brooks advises.

  “I need to read my husband’s note. This is obviously a suicide. These are his . . . last . . . words,” she wails.

  She’s right. It’s open and shut. Jones did all of us a huge favor. The city and the department won’t have to be dragged through the mud in Wayne Circuit. What the hell . . .

  “Sure, Brenda, let’s get the crime scene boys in here. It shouldn’t take long to process,” Brooks concedes.

  Brenda Jones fights hard to compose herself. She wipes tears from her eyes and face.

  “Thanks, Chief,” she sniffles. “I really appreciate this and everything else you tried to do for Randy.”

  “I haven’t done shit, Brenda. You don’t owe me a thing,” Brooks grumbles.

  “Chief, this was an impossible situation, and Randy understood that. He didn’t blame you for a thing,” she lies.

  “Brenda, you’re a terrific liar.”

  Brooks looks over to the office, the room where the Wayne County coroner is now working on the body. A crime scene tech bags and tags the note and hands it to Brooks.

  “It looks like there is only one set of prints, Chief. I’ll match them ASAP.”

  “Thanks, Otto.”

  Brooks turns to Brenda.

  “Here’s the note, Brenda.” He hands her the plastic baggie covered note without reading it.

  Brenda tries to focus and begins to read the note aloud.

  “My dearest Brenda: I’ve loved you for all of my adult life, and I thank God Almighty for every day we spent together. My will is inside the safe. Everything belongs to you. I know you’re hurting, but please try to move on with your life. You deserve happiness and a rich, fulfilling life. I love you, my darling.

  “To the Hayes family: What made me pull Mr. Hayes over that night? I don’t quite know. There had been an earlier robbery that weighed heavily on my mind. I tried to be a fair officer who worked for justice. I should have caught myself as soon as I saw your family. Mr. Hayes was innocent. I’ve thought about that night a great deal lately. I must have prejudices I was previously unaware of. Still, that doesn’t justify having them or acting upon them. I cannot explain or justify my actions, but I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused you.

  “To my fellow police officers and the Cedar Ridge Police Department: Thanks for always having my back. I’m sorry my actions have caused you pain and embarrassment. I’ve let all of you down. Learn from my mistakes. Enforce the law but do so even-handedly with a clear conscience. Go with God, my brothers and sisters. Hopefully, I am with Him now.

  “Peace and love to all, Randy.”

  Chief Warren Brooks retrieves the note from Brenda Jones and hands it back to the evidence tech—the tech secures it with other crime scene evidence. Seconds later, the coroner emerges from the office and announces that the body was being taken to the morgue for autopsy.

  Behind him, two men push a gurney carrying a zippered blue tarp-like wrap that contains the body of Randy Jones. The men carry the body out the front door and load it into a van labeled ‘Wayne County Medical Examiner.’

  Brenda turns to Chief Brooks. “Are you guys going to be much longer? I need to make dinner, take a shower, and get some sleep. I have a funeral to plan,” she mutters.

  “Nonsense, Brenda. You can’t stay here. This is a crime scene, and you are obviously in shock,” Brooks orders.

  “We’ll arrange for a hotel at department expense. Please pack a bag and I’ll take you downtown.”

  “Or, you can stay at our house,” Alex Mickler offers. “Jill and I would be happy to have you.”

  “That’s a nice offer, Alex. How about it, Brenda? Is it Jill and Alex or a hotel on the department?” Brooks inquires.

  “Alex, thank you, but I think I’ll take Chief Brooks up on his hotel offer. I’d rather be alone tonight.”

  ***

  Two hours later, Brenda Jones lay in a hot bubble bath in her downtown hotel room. She closes her eyes and pictures her husband Randy—all smiles on their wedding day.

  When did you stop being that guy? When did your job claim the man I once knew? Oh, Randy, how could you do this? We used to be able to talk about things. When did you start internalizing, burying things so far under the surface that they ate at you from the inside out? Why couldn’t you let me in, let me help you? I love you, but I don’t know how I can ever forgive you.

  Brenda Jones slips under the water.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Word of Randy Jones’s suicide spreads quickly through the metropolitan Detroit area. Cedar Ridge mayor, the Honorable George Mendoza, offers his deepest condolences to the widow. Police Chief Warren Brooks issues a statement saying the Cedar Ridge Police community has lost one of its brothers and sons, and the entire law enforcement community is officially in mourning. City flags will fly at half-mast.

  A flock of reporters gathers on the sidewalk and street in front of Sarah Hayes’s home in Detroit, hoping for a comment. Instead of accommodating them, Sarah calls Zack Blake.

  Blake hops into his BMW and drives to her house. When he arrives, he observes a swarm of reporters and camera crews milling about, waiting to catch a glimpse of or a word from Sarah Hayes.

  Jillian Zimmer approaches Blake and requests a comment or statement.

  “Sure, Jillian. Do you have a microphone I can borrow?”

  “Can I have an exclusive?”

  “I can borrow the microphone from someone else, Jillian. You’re invading my client’s privacy and scaring the hell out of her kids.”

  Jillian pouts and hands Blake a microphone, as reporters and cameramen cram into each other in a quest to position themselves as close to Zack Blake as possible.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the press. This is a sad day for the Detroit area law enforcement community. They have lost one of their own. When a fallen officer is from the Detroit area, the entire Southeastern Lower Michigan brotherhood in blue feels that loss. I’m sorry the tragedy of Marcus Hayes has expanded to include the tragedy of Officer Randy Jones.

  “My client is distraught and unwilling to comment about these events. She knows the pain of losing a husband and wishes to extend her deepest condolences to Officer Jones’s wife, Brenda.

  “However, this tragic event will not deter our pursuit of justice in this case. I will take no questions and ask all of you to vacate these premises. Thank you in advance for respecting my client’s privacy.”

  Blake hands the microphone back to Jillian. She and others begin shouting questions. Blake ignores them and moves toward the house. Reporters begin to vacate the property, reporting live as they do so. Blake knocks gently on the front door and announces himself. Sarah answers and Blake quickly enters the home and closes the front door

  “Zack, my kids, and I can’t live like this. A couple of these guys followed them to school and tried to ask them questions—kids as young as they are—can you believe that?” Sarah is distraught.

  “Sarah, I’m so sorry. I will put a stop to this harassment. I promise.”

  “Thank you. I know you’re doing your best. How’s Mrs. Jones doing? Wha
t’s her name, Brenda? She’s joined an exclusive club.”

  “This is a tragic mess all the way around, Sarah. As for the press, though, we knew when we started our journey together that it would be a media circus. Would you like to stop? We don’t have to continue. We can drop the civil case. Just say the word.”

  “No, Zack. I’ll be okay. You told me this lawsuit would help to prevent these types of occurrences in the future, and I think Marcus would want me to continue. I hope the press will respect boundaries when it comes to my kids and our privacy.”

  “I’ll do my best, Sarah. Hang in there.”

  “Thank you, Zack. Thanks for coming all the way out here on such short notice.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Chief Warren Brooks grimaces as he watches Zachary Blake’s impromptu press conference. He takes special note of Blake’s “flawed system,” “root cause,” “gross negligence,” and “pursuit of justice” comments.

  If systemic racism and gross negligence can be proven, punitive and compensatory damages are available. Punitive damages, those which punish a defendant for egregious behavior, are a wildcard and may drastically increase a jury award, even result in the type of nine-figure award that made Zachary Blake the Detroit area’s most famous lawyer.

  Brooks wants to hate Zachary Blake. He’d also like to talk some sense into Sarah Hayes. Pulling multiple millions out of the law enforcement treasury will not make our citizens safer. It will make us less safe.

  But he could not detest Blake for doing his job or being good at it. Sarah Hayes had an absolute right to seek justice for her husband’s death. Blake and his client are absolutely correct, both factually and politically. They’re fully justified in their pursuit of this case. Jones was a product of the Cedar Ridge law enforcement system, and that system is to blame for this nightmare, even though Jones’s actions that evening were abhorrent to Brooks.

  If this type of behavior is endemic to my police force, I need to clean house.

  Unfortunately, his position as Cedar Ridge Chief of Police is very much a political one. As such, Brooks’ private feelings on these subjects are, by necessity, quite different than his public ones. In public, his role is to defend the department and the brave young men and women who protect and serve the community. In private, however, he’s inclined to root for Zack Blake and Sarah Hayes.

  ***

  Michael Kendell is executive director of the Midwest Region of Black Lives Matter. He watches Zachary Blake’s news conference in his home office and is intrigued by the news that Randy Jones has taken his own life. In his mind, there are two possible explanations for suicide.

  Suicide was often the coward’s way out. Either Jones was a coward and unwilling to face criminal or civil juries, or he was genuinely remorseful and despondent. Perhaps his death resulted from a lethal combination of the two.

  Whatever the reason, Jones’ death could now be used to advance BLM’s cause and its quest for equal and humane treatment by police officers.

  Kendell is a historian of racism at a time when President Ronald John’s open bigotry has created a national debate. Kendell is concerned that John’s rhetoric and events like Cedar Ridge will eventually converge, if they haven’t already, to create an atmosphere of unrest and racial violence.

  As an activist, his positions sit somewhere between King and Farrakhan. Kendell doesn’t condone or encourage violence, and his writings and speeches reflect that. But he is also keenly aware that the sword is sometimes mightier than the pen.

  His ultimate goal is to drive racism out of America and American culture. He believes systemic discriminatory policies are the cause of racism and that dismantling those policies will concurrently curb racist ideas and ideology.

  A full professor at Wayne State University in Detroit, Kendell holds a Ph.D. in African American studies from that very same university. He currently teaches a popular course called Systemic Racism in African American History and a more generalized, less controversial African American history class. He’s a well-known authority on television and head of a privately funded think tank, which conducts volumes of research into root causes of racist activity and attitudes.

  While many of his contemporaries feel education, political power, and assimilation into the dominant white infrastructure of America are keys to the decline of racist attitudes, Kendell believes these things actually perpetuate those attitudes.

  If a black man is educated and earns a good income, for example, his insecure white contemporaries now view him as a threat, someone who is “uppity” and a challenge to the status quo. Therefore, this insecurity or threat to the white man’s self-interest is a root cause of racism in America. An educated and assimilated black man might, in fact, be a cause of racial tension and not a solution.

  Michael Kendell possesses a burning desire to make a difference. He wants the justice system to continue to pursue the Jones-Hayes case, pedal to the metal. He believes such pursuit might lead to meaningful change in training, social education, hiring practices, and attitudes in police departments in the Detroit area and beyond. He is concerned Jones’s death might have a chilling effect on that effort.

  Jones’s death has killed the criminal case. Will it claim the civil case as well?

  Kendell is quite concerned about that possible outcome.

  Michael wants Zachary Blake to put systemic racism and the Cedar Ridge Police Department on trial, along with the racist actions and attitudes of Randy Jones. The civil case might be as compelling as the criminal case would have been, especially if it has a substantial economic impact on the Cedar Ridge Police Department. He is confident of one thing: Zachary Blake is the absolute right man for the job.

  Blake’s a powerful guy who’s successfully taken on and taken down powerful institutions in the past.

  Kendell is an expert at researching and flushing out racist attitudes and policies at the institutional level. He’s been at the forefront of change in many colleges and universities around the country. He’s assembled teams of activists and students to conduct research projects into the racial history of Cedar Ridge and the Cedar Ridge Police Department. He plans to present that research to Zachary Blake and Sarah Hayes.

  The key to success for his movement, though, is to prevent the City of Cedar Ridge from resolving the case before evidence of the police department’s racist actions and attitudes are exposed or before they blame the shooting on the actions of one rogue cop. He silently hopes that one day soon, Zachary Blake and Sarah Hayes will consider partnering with him and his followers in a quest for progress and meaningful change.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Blake changes his mind about filing the case in Wayne County Circuit Court. The Estate of Marcus Hayes files a four-count complaint in the Federal District Court in Detroit. The complaint alleges violations of the First, Fourth, and Fourteenth Amendments of the United States Constitution, 42 USC Sections 1983 and 1988, and related sections of the Michigan Constitution and State of Michigan common law.

  Since the alleged acts were committed in the Eastern District of Michigan and a federal question has been raised, venue is proper in federal district court.

  Wayne County Circuit Court is a far better venue than any federal district court, but Blake knows the defense would have moved the case to federal court when filing its formal answer.

  Why fuck around?

  Count one, the plaintiff’s first cause of action in the formal complaint, is a so-called 1983 cause of action. Virtually all police misconduct or police brutality cases allege this violation because 42 USC Section 1983 and the First, Fourth, and Fourteenth Amendments of the United States Constitution provide guarantees that a citizen must be free from gratuitous and excessive force. This is the reason that legal insiders refer to these as 1983 lawsuits.

  Sarcastically, Blake decides to add that there is no force more excessive than the unnecessary force that takes the life of a citizen. Further, Blake alleges th
at Marcus Hayes’s death was a direct and proximate cause of this gratuitous and excessive force.

  Count two is a straightforward and simple assault and battery with a deadly weapon allegation. As straightforward as it is, however, this is an allegation that, if proven against all defendants, is likely to reach the deep pockets of the City of Cedar Ridge. Blake alleges Officer Randy Jones intentionally assaulted and battered Marcus Hayes in violation of Michigan law. Furthermore, Blake argues Jones committed these willful, wrongful, and unlawful acts of assault, battery, and threatening behavior against the entire Hayes family while acting with the scope of his employment as a Cedar Ridge police officer.

  Under the legal doctrine of respondeat superior, Jones’s employers—the Cedar Ridge Police Department and the City of Cedar Ridge are equally responsible for his wrongdoing. This count repeats that Marcus Hayes’s death and damages to the Hayes family are directly and proximately caused by these alleged wrongful acts.

  Counts three and four are also counts designed to pick deep pockets. They are directed at the City of Cedar Ridge and its’ police department. Count Three alleges the city and police department both committed Section 1983 and constitutional violations similar to those alleged in count one. In essence, Blake is arguing both caused or contributed to Hayes’s death and his family’s horror because they tolerated these types of traffic stops against people of color in Cedar Ridge and also tolerated serial practices of excessive use of force by its officers.

  Count four alleges the City of Cedar Ridge and the police department failed to properly train and discipline police officers in connection with the use of injurious and excessive force. Blake decides to add a controversial racial profiling allegation to this count.

  He alleges negligent training and discipline protocols have failed to provide officers in this virtually all-white community with sensitivity and tolerance training. Proper training and discipline might have prevented cultural and ethnic misunderstandings. In this case, Officer Jones was incapable of communicating with his minority subject.