Too Bad With Her Mouth Open, She's Scratching...
"My client has nothing to say," he told Richard pointedly, clearly meaning for me to take the hint. I smiled at the lawyer and nodded understanding. Jerry and the other man, I couldn't even recollect his name now, looked me over uncertainly for a little while and then everybody walked back out. It was apparent they couldn't identify me for sure, and in court "I guess so, maybe" doesn't wash.My accommodations in jail were a little, well, Spartan, but the mattress was acceptable and thankfully vermin-free, and the food was at least nourishing even if it fell far short of Lee's cooking and the restaurants where we occasionally took meals. I saw little of my fellow inmates except for when they'd take one of us out for something; they seemed generally a little unsavory, but on the whole not much different from people you'd encounter on the street of a busy afternoon.And the guards were unfailingly polite, even pleasant insofar as they might be. One was kind enough to bring me the morning. But after the first kid came forward, a couple of others did too, and wewere assigned to investigate. We were able to get a warrant for hisoffice, and thanks to having a lot of experience in knowing where tolook, I was able to find his stash of notes and pictures.I can't say for sure why he even kept them. Some of these guys, they areso arrogant they think they will never be caught, and so leave a trail ofevidence behind that gets bigger as time goes on, until their own pridetrips them up.Others keep the stuff because it is a trophy, a way to relive the "fun"they had experienced. I think with this guy, it was a bit of both.Regardless, he had kept careful notes on the kids he was using, and had aton of photos besides, which pretty much made our case a slam dunk.But pouring over the pictures, I came across the photos of one kid, andthe images stayed with me, and I couldn't shake it. What made the pictureodd was the fact that he was a boy, but he was dressed like a girl.That wasn't the.
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