He didn’t know who had called the police, but the lawyer showed us the testimony
of the man who had robbed him, explaining that this man would be the main witness
at the trial.
When Mike made bail, the man got in touch with him through a mutual acquaintance.
He explained that he wanted only three hundred dollars, which was what it would cost
him to repair the shattered windows in his car. Mike considered this a very low sum
to get out of an attempted murder charge and happily paid him. He also paid for a
hotel room for this man to stay in on the appointed court dates, in case the police
came to his house to escort him to court. 12 This man then failed to show up as a witness for three court dates, and the judge
dismissedthe case. To my utter astonishment, Mike and this man now appeared to be “cool.” The
night after the case ended, we had drinks with the man and played pool together at
a local bar.
People in legal jeopardy can pay others
not
to show up as a witness at a trial; they can also pay people in the neighborhood
to alert them if the police are coming, or can pay those who know of their whereabouts,
activities, or identity not to give this information to the police. With such a large
number of wanted people in the neighborhood (as well as people committing illegal
acts who are liable to be arrested should those acts be brought to the attention of
the authorities), 6th Street engages in a brisk trade in this kind of information
and cooperation.
It should be noted that the payments legally precarious people make to the purveyors
of false documents, or to those who might inform or testify, are in addition to the
money they pay to lawyers and to the state directly in court fees and fines, bail,
probation and parole costs, and tickets. These payouts for their continued freedom
represent no small portion of their income.
INFORMING
If a young man exhausts the avenues discussed above, he may attempt to avoid confinement
by giving the police someone they want more than they want him. In contrast to fleeing,
avoidance, cultivating unpredictability, or paying to pass undetected, this strategy
carries heavy social judgment. Indeed, informing is understood to be such a lowly
way to get out of one’s legal problems that men tend not to admit when they have done
it. Since young men and women typically inform inside police cars or interrogation
rooms, behind closed doors, it was difficult for me to study.
Chuck and Mike were close friends with a young man named Steve, who was about a year
older than Chuck and a year younger than Mike. He lived across the street from Chuck
with his mother and grandmother, his father having moved down south when he was a
small child. Steve’s mother worked in administration at Drexel University, so the
family was better off than many of the others on the block. With his small build,
light skin, and light eyes, Steve looked sneaky, Chuck’smom said, someone to keep your eye on. He was also notoriously hotheaded, pulling
out his gun at inappropriate moments, like birthday parties for Mike’s children.
Chuck and Mike hadn’t thought that anyone could make Steve give up the bachelor life,
but after high school he fell in love with Taja, a young woman who had grown up a
few blocks away. Their stormy romance lasted longer than anyone expected—longer than
they
expected, they sometimes laughed. For almost the entire time I knew Steve and Taja,
they were trying hard to have a baby, but Taja would miscarry every time Steve got
locked up: three times in their six-year relationship.
Steve was a drug user more than a drug seller; when we met he was nineteen, and under
house arrest awaiting the completion of a trial for possession of drugs.
In the spring the police stopped Steve while he was carrying a gun, and charged him
with possession without a license to carry. He made bail, but then got picked up soon
after for
Bathroom Readers’ Institute