Straight Life - Art Pepper [149]
The guards came twice a day with food and water. They asked us, "Well, are you guys ready to change your story?" We told them there was nothing to change. It seemed they were just going to keep us there. There was no way we could get out; we couldn't get a lawyer. There was no help we could get. David was deathly ill. He told me, "If there was any way I could kill myself, I'd do it. I just don't know how to do it." I said, "Oh, man, just hold on. Hold on."
We were there for five days; it seemed like eternity. Finally they took us back to our cell block. They figured if they put us back in the same tank the guys would beat us up. We weren't trustees anymore. We were shot back in the second section and treated very bad. David told the guys in the tank, "Come on! If you're going to do anything to us, do it and get it over with, and we'll get some of you as we're going out!" But they let it go. I told my friends, "It wasn't my stuff. There was nothing I could do. If it had been my stuff I would have given you a taste." So it blew over.
At my arraignment my bail had been set at one hundred thousand dollars. The DA's office gave a speech. They said I was involved in a huge network of dope dealers and I was dealing to Hollywood and the near valley. I was reputed to be a big gangster in a narcotics ring. The people I was scoring from were big people, but I was just buying from them. I wasn't dealing at all at the time. The judge finally said, "Well, what was found on the suspect?" They said, "Oh, that's inconsequential. That has no bearing on the case." The judge said, "How much was it?" And the guy said, "Two quarter ounces, a half ounce total." They recommended that bail be set at a hundred thousand because they didn't want me to get out and inform the rest of the "gang." They said they had things in the works; everything was set up; they had people under surveillance. The judge went along with them, and they put me back in jail.
When I went to my preliminary hearing the judge said to the DA, "Well, where's this gang and all the things you were going to tie in?" He realized that it was all bullshit but he wouldn't lower the bail to fifteen hundred dollars, which is what the public defender asked for. He put it to five thousand, and I still couldn't get out.
I got ahold of Les Koenig. I think I had my dad go see him. Les was interested in having me make an album, and for that I usually got about five hundred dollars in front. Ann Christos and this chick from the Lighthouse put up a couple of hundred as a deposit, and Les called the bondsman and assured him of the rest, and I got out on bail. I went down to the studio with a horn I borrowed from a student, a Martin with a good sound. That was Intensity with Dolo Coker and Jimmy Bond, and that was the last album Les had that I did, so he kept it. This was in 1960, and he didn't release it until 1963.
My dad wanted me to have a lawyer. I said no. I told him, "I don't have a chance in the world." He said, "I still want you to have a good lawyer." He had already paid out all the money he'd saved, so the only way he could get a lawyer was to put another mortgage on his home in Long Beach, and he did that.
The lawyer came and talked to me. He told my folks that he'd talked to the police,