Ray was all for justice himself, he was counting on it. He was rereading the editorial when he looked up and recognized Detective Goddard. The uniformed officer with him began unlocking the cell door.

"We're making it official. We're taking you up before the judge for arraignment. You're under arrest for the murder of Albert Towson. You've the right to remain silent-." Goddard continued with the routine spiel. The weight of the words seemed impossible for Ray to bear. His whole body grew weak. The detective noticed the prisoner's face turning pale and sweaty.

The uniformed officer ordered Ray to put his hands behind his back. His wrists were forced together, and with the click of the handcuffs his arms ached immediately. He could feel his heart thumping with an intense force. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe. He made a choking sound. His knees melted. He collapsed forward. The officer tried to hold him up.

Goddard rushed into the cell just as the prisoner pitched forward and vomited wildly onto the wall and bunk. They lifted him onto the opposite bunk. Goddard quickly loosened the jumpsuit and motioned for the officer to remove the cuffs. "Let him relax then hook him up in front from now on, not in the back."

Upon lying down, the color returned to Ray's face, although he was still shaking. He gave the detective a meek smile. "Sorry, I've never been gagged like that before."

"We didn't gag you."

"You didn't gag me? Oh, I thought you did."

"We would never gag you. Are you diabetic or taking any medications?"

Ray shook his head and slowly brought himself upright on the bunk.

"You okay now? Want to see a doctor?"

"Okay, now. This is all very disturbing. You definitely can't arrest me. I definitely can't remain in jail."

The city jail was a part of the police building which was directly across the boulevard from the Court House. The detective completed the booking ritual, transported the prisoner to the Court House and sat with him in a small room outside the courtroom until his case was called. A brief Sunday morning arraignment for the Saturday night offenders was routine. Other cases were DUI and minor wrongdoings; Ray Reid was a big deal.

The judge asked Ray if he was financially able and desirous of employing counsel. He said he was, although he hadn't been able to locate a lawyer. Whereupon, the judge postponed the First Appearance for another twenty-four hours and instructed the State Attorney's Office to assist in finding suitable counsel for the defendant. The proceeding was short and dreadfully frightening.

They took him back to his jail cell. Last night, when they first put him in this cell, it was frustrating to be misunderstood, but he could stand it thinking the situation would straighten out in the morning. This morning, however, the authorities' massive power became clear to him. This time the metal clang of his cell door made him flinch, and the echo would never leave his memory. His small window of hopefulness had closed.




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