They were to go to trial separately. Corey would be first. Not what the state had wanted but what Mr. Levin, Corey’s attorney, had fought for and won. The Picayune had already leaked Marv’s identity and his expected testimony. Turns out he was supposed to be one-hundred percent certain he had seen Xavier sitting at the intersection. Certain he had seen him strike Lil’ Merc with his car. When it came to Corey, he was “almost certain”. He hadn’t positively identified him in a police line-up. It was the dreads he couldn’t remember for sure. The shooter had been wearing a hoodie. The witness was telling police he was too shocked by what he had seen to notice hair.
Jazz gave me the rundown in her kitchen. Corey’s lawyer, had set up a meeting with Xavier’s attourney. Corey was the victim of mistaken identity. He wasn’t the one in the car that night. He and Xavier were estranged at the time; plenty people could attest to that. There was no physical evidence linking him to the crime, plus Corey’s hair was to his waist. You would have been able to see that on the tape. But a lot had played out in the media already, and now thanks to that, upon entering the courthouse, Corey and Xavier’s reputations preceded them. The key to Corey’s freedom was that he had an alibi.
Panda. That was the part, Jazz didn’t want to say. But she had to.
I felt sick and out of pocket. Another night without sleeping. I tried to accept that I would probably never sleep through the night again. Lil’ Merc kept me up. Twelve to the body, and four to face, after getting hit by a car. Nobody deserved to die that way—no matter what they had done. I thought about the girl, whose blood had covered my legs that night in Mike’s. She lived. I had tried to talk to Corey about it the night it happened.
“Stop crying, Kalo. You barely knew her.”
“It could have been me you know? They didn’t mean to shoot her either.”
“But it wasn’t, Kalo. It wasn’t. You’re okay.”
“Is that the way you look at things now?”
“Not solely, but you can’t survive out here being crazy, Kalo. Some shit, you just have to let it go.”
The next morning the mayor of New Orleans, the District Attorney, and the Chief of Police held an impromptu press conference carried on all the local channels. Marvin Gilyot, the prosecution’s star witness, their only witness, had been murdered the night before. Marvin had disobeyed police orders not to go around his place of business. Why they did not protect him there was another question. It was a brazen crime, the Chief said, and it was most definitely linked to the upcoming trial of Corey Jameson. The entire Jameson family and their associates could expect intense scrutiny in the days that were to come. They vowed to the public to aggressively pursue bringing to trial Corey Jameson and Xavier St. Martin for both the killings of Marvin Gilyot and Kenneth James Mercadel.
But with no witness, the state had no case. And there was Corey’s alibi to deal with. Really it was just a matter of days before both Xavier and Corey would be out. Proving that either or both of them had ordered the hit on Marvin Gilyot was a long shot. Anybody could have done it. A lot of people’s lives would change with one or both of them behind bars.
One thing we all knew, in front that mic or behind it, was nothing went deeper than blood or love in this city. There was also money. Police had it to make as well. Not everyone was ready for the well to run dry. So, just like that as crazy it had all been, it was over. That’s how it was in New Orleans. Murder was the easiest crime to get away with.
Xavier and Corey came home.
Kristina Kay Robinson 