20
After enduring the humiliating experience of being photographed and fingerprinted at Central Holding, I was marched downstairs and shoved into a large cell.
Being New Years Day it was packed with revellers who had partied a little too hard, most of whom were nursing serious hangovers. Most of them seemed harmless, although there were a few dangerous looking characters who appeared quite at home in the congested cell. I looked carefully, but fortunately none of them was Stan.
As both benches were full occupied I found space on the floor and leaned my back against the filthy wall.
“What’d they get you for?” Asked the guy next to me.
“Assault and disturbing the peace.” I replied. “Wouldn’t even give me a phone call.”
I turned and looked at him. He must have been close to my age, wear
