“Are you sure this is the same guy?” Feldman asked Joe and his counterpart, a young lawyer named Ben Yang who was representing Bolds. Ben worked for the Mental Hygiene Legal Service, an agency that functioned like a public defender’s office for people with mental illnesses.
“He looked different in 1983, Your Honor,” Joe said.
Ben shrugged.
“Didn’t we all,” Feldman said. “All right, step back.” He waited until the lawyers had returned to their tables. “Mr. Bolds, do you understand what’s going on here?”
“Yes, Judge,” Bolds said, speaking for the first time. His voice was almost walrus-like too, his words a little like pinniped barks. “They want to put me back, I guess.”
“Well, not exactly. You were convicted of rape and attempted murder back in 1984. You’ve served your time for that, and it looks like you’ve been on probation now for almost two years. Your probation is about to end, which would make you completely free of legal supervision. What’s happening is, the attorney general’s office has filed a petition against you because they believe that you may have a mental health problem, and that you may reoffend sexually. So even though you’re being released from supervision, they’re seeking to put you in an institution or on strict probation. If they can prove their case, then one or the other of those things would continue until the state says you’re no longer dangerous. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Do you feel like you’re dangerous?”
“Dangerous? I don’t go nowhere.”
“Mr. Bolds’s entire life revolves around his mother, who is in a nursing home, Your Honor,” Ben said. “He lives nearby, and he’s lived quietly for almost two years on probation without major incident. Other than visiting his mother, going to work, and shopping in the neighborhood, he doesn’t go anywhere.”
“Without major incident, yes,” Joe said. “But Mr. Bolds’s behavior around public libraries and parks near where he lives in Brooklyn has sparked—”
“No arrests,” Ben interrupted.
“Don’t speak over each other!” the court reporter barked.
“I apologize,” Ben said. “But, Your Honor, the AG’s office really can’t point to much outside of speculation.”
“He owns a panel van,” Joe said. “He says he uses it for his job, making deliveries for some dry cleaners in Brooklyn. He was detained outside of a public library branch in Flatbush two years ago on a citizen’s complaint. He was in the van, and it was found to have duct tape and various kinds of rope in the back.”
“Mr. Bolds explained to police at the scene how those things were related to his job and various other tasks he does around his home. He was not arrested. There have been no probation violations either.”
“I can read the file, Mr. Yang,” the judge said. “And I understand your argument, but the probation officer himself has expressed concerns about Mr. Bolds. The PO believes he’s got strange ideas about women and sex.”
“My client tends to say unfortunate things, Your Honor,” Ben said, as if accepting responsibility for a bad recipe. “But there’s no evidence it’s anything but fantasy. Anyway, the PO isn’t a psychologist.”
“Which is exactly why he’s a candidate for this process,” Joe said, seizing on the point with a sonorous pitch. “The Office of Mental Health has made an initial determination that Evan Bolds might have a mental abnormality. If Mr. Yang is right that he doesn’t, then this process will clarify that.”
“Oy gevalt!” Feldman said, raising his hands. He shifted his eyes to the sedentary, composed man at the table. “Mr. Bolds, did you understand my question before? Do you believe you’re a danger to reoffend, sexually or otherwise?”
“Dangerous? Like would I hurt another lady?”
“Well, yes. Or anyone.”
“Oh. No, I’m too old for that now. That’s for the young guys.”
“That’s comforting,” the judge said, frowning. He turned his attention to Joe. “Mr. DeSantos, Mr. Bolds seems . . . less than fully repentant, maybe. But he was released after nearly thirty-three years in custody, and they were mostly quiet years. He’s done a couple more years on probation without a violation. Is he really a good candidate for this . . . civil confinement?”
“Well, it’s civil management, Your Honor,” Joe said. “We don’t anticipate that Mr. Bolds will be confined again. But he’s fifty-three, which is relatively young. He’s demonstrated serious deficits in empathy and understanding regarding what he did, both back in the ’80s and recently. The Office of Mental Health believes he’s a good candidate for strict probation. We filed based on that.”