I, Arthur Dexter Bradley

I, Arthur Dexter Bradley

Testimony given to police March 1978(two years after the trial):

I got into the cocaine business in '61 following in my brother's footsteps. I made thousands of money selling coke in local clubs and bars in Florida for years. I had my run-ins with the occasional thugs trying to steal an ounce or two and decided it would be in my best interest if I found some "protection". I bought a gun at a local gun shop and used it mainly to intimidate people into giving me the money they owed.

In '65, I became partners with Alfred Bello, a major dealer at the time who had some large Columbian connections. He promised I could get twice the money for my rocks if I sold with him up North. Business had slowed over the past year and I figured it couldn't hurt to move. In November of that year, I hauled myself, all my possessions, and my business to New Jersey.

In the first few months, I raked in more cash than I every dreamed possible. Bello, however, was never satisfied. The trouble started when he insisted we hit all the bars and clubs on the East side; territory he knew was off limits. The Gringo gang ran that turf and we had already been harshly warned not to deal in those clubs, but Bello was never the type to be threatened. He had a backbone of made of solid lead, which went well with his new set of gold teeth and Dodge Polara.

The first few times we dealt on the East side went down real smooth; sold close to a kilo in just the first week. The last time we showed up however was our final deal. It was Friday night and we rolled up to Billy's, the local bar and pool hall, as we had done everyday before that. The first thing I noticed when I walked in was that it was quieter than normal. A glance at the far end of the bar told me why. Two Gringo's stood with their guns cocked and loaded, waiting for us. As I dove for the nearest table, they opened fire nearly missing my shoulder. Bello, who had seen them before I did, was already behind a table and had begun to fire back. He fired three shots and managed to hit one of Gringos, but shot the bartender with the other two by accident. I fired off my round and shot the second Gringo directly between the temples, bringing him to the ground.

Bello walked over to check on the bartender just as a blonde haired woman walked in the room. She took one look at the men on the floor and screamed. Bello ran over and tried to calm her down by telling her some thugs had done it and left through the back. He suggested she call the cops and she made her way over to the phone. As soon as she was out of earshot, Bello explained we had to think of a convincing story to tell the cops.

Within moments, red and blue lights flashed and four cops walked in the door. They immediately started asking questions and checking over the bodies. Bello and I both stuck to our stories and each told them we had seen two tall, black, males run out and jump into a white car with out of state license plates. Somehow, Alfred Bello convinced the blonde haired woman, Ms. Valentine, to believe our story as well, and during her questioning, she confirmed our account. During my questioning, one of the Gringos stirred and was immediately rushed to the hospital for critical care.

Once they had our statements they told us we were free to leave, but we should stay in town until they find the killer. The news that night stated that they had found a suspect and had brought him in for questioning. A picture of the subject flashed on the screen and I was shocked to see Ruben Carter, the famous fighter due to contend the middleweight crown in a short few months. How the cops had concluded Ruben from the description we gave was a mystery, but Bello seemed very pleased he had come up with such a clever lie.

Neither