By Terrence McCoy
By Allie Conti
By Chuck Strouse
By Scott Fishman
By Terrence McCoy
By Ryan Yousefi
By Ciara LaVelle, Kat Bein, Carolina Del Busto, and Liz Tracy
By Pepe Billete
Calvin Kingcade is a fit 25-year-old with a black eye, a broken jaw, and a mouth fastened shut with silver wires. He drools while he talks to his mom on Ward D of Jackson Memorial Hospital. One-fourth of his face is paralyzed.
Kingcade has been attacked three times in jail during the past 10 months. In addition, a guard apparently has it out for the South Dade man.
"They need to protect my son before he dies in that jail," says his mother, Molita Spaulding.
Kingcade has had his share of problems. He suffers from a multiple-personality disorder. He was once charged with burglary, but those charges were dropped. In 2002, he was convicted of coke possession.
More recently, he allegedly "pointed a handgun" at a customer and "demanded his gold chain" during a robbery in August 2008 at the M&M Supermarket on Southwest 216th Street, according to a police report.
The victim, it turns out, was the nephew of a jail guard named Victor Headley; the guard heard about the crime and found a mugshot of Kingcade, then presented it to witnesses, court records show.
Kingcade was arrested in February 2009. Almost immediately, two guards — not including Headley — took him off camera and beat him. He ended up with bruises and scratches on his neck and back. Internal affairs found that the two officers did not use excessive force. But they failed to write an incident report or give Kingcade adequate medical attention.
Seven months later, four inmates broke Kingcade's wrist. And this past September, a different group of prisoners snapped his jaw. Doctors later inserted a metal plate into the side of his face.
Jail spokeswoman Janelle Hall says Headley was investigated and there was insufficient evidence to bring charges. "The department takes each case seriously and investigates allegations of abuse," she comments.
Kingcade's mom has penned letters of complaint to the corrections department and the ACLU: "Something needs to be done," she says.