The Aftermath

by Iris Bolling

  “No.”

  “Do you wish to expand on that?”

  “No.”

  Stinger nodded his head. “Very well. Detective Reigns, what can you tell us about the death of Liam Kavanagh?”

  “At approximately 4:45 yesterday afternoon, Captain Daniels approached my desk indicating a suspect had been brought in by Detective Vaughan who he wanted us to interrogate. Detective Vaughan and I walked to the interrogation rooms where officers were working to revive the suspect.”

  “You, nor Detective Vaughan discovered the body?”

  “No.”

  “Was there any conversation between you and Detective Vaughan as you walked to the interrogation room?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you like to elaborate?”

  “No.”

  “All right,” Stinger chuckled. “Tell us what was said between you and Detective Vaughan.”

  “He asked if I wanted to be the ‘good cop’ or ‘bad cop’.”

  Stinger, Armstead, and Daniels gave him a puzzling look.

  “This is what I have to put up with,” Nate expressed to the Captain.

  “Do you believe Vaughan was involved in Kavanagh’s death?”

  “I do.”

  Stinger looked up from his notes. “How so?”

  “He brought the suspect in, and he did not follow protocol for securing said suspect.”

  “Do you believe he killed Kavanagh?” Armstead asked.

  “No.”

  Which was true. Nate did not have proof that Cory killed the man, nor did he have anything indicating Cory was involved in Kavanagh’s death, but his gut told him otherwise. He noticed as Daniels nodded his head in satisfaction from his response. They all seemed to be satisfied and that would probably put an end to IA’s investigation as far as Cory was concerned. However, none of it satisfied Nate. Cory was involved in the death of Kavanagh. He may not have been the person who killed him, but he was involved. No matter what the outcome of IA’s investigation turned out to be, Nate planned to keep his eyes open as far as Cory and Whitaker were concerned. “I have a question. Did any of you find it odd that Whitaker brought up Liam Kavanagh’s death while giving you guidance on how the IA investigation should turn out?”

  Stinger put his tablet away. “I found it very interesting. Do you have any thoughts on that?”

  “No.” Nate replied.

  “As I expected,” Lt. Stinger nodded. “That is all I have. Thank you, Detective Reigns. I appreciate your cooperation.” He turned to Daniels. “Captain, I will be in touch.”

  With that, the two men dressed in black suits walked out of the Captain’s office.

  “That puts an end to that,” Captain Daniels sighed. “You had me worried there for a minute, Reigns. I thought you were going to throw Vaughan under the bus.”

  “No, but you should, Captain,” Nate stated. “If Kavanagh’s family, or next of kin get wind of how he was brought in, they have grounds to sue the department.”

  “But they don’t know,” Daniels snapped back. “No worries, case closed.”

  “What about the next time he does this?” Nate asked. “This department mistrusts me for actions I took in the past against the officers. Has it ever occurred to you that it would have been impossible for me to do that had you not opened the door? My bank account is extremely healthy from clients who knew this department cuts corners when closing a case. Guilty or not, 9 times out of 10, when reviewing cases from RPD, multiple infractions of this nature were found. At some point, the brass in this department is going to have to take action against detectives when they cross the line with evidence.”

  “Don’t lecture me, Reigns,” Daniels hissed. “You walk up in here in your thousand-dollar suits and your five-hundred-dollar shoes, thinking a cardigan sweater, rather than a dress shirt and tie, will play down the fact that you live above all of us who have to work in this shit hole to survive. You lawyers care about adding zeroes behind numbers in your bank account. You said it yourself, guilty or not, you get them off. Instead of giving me your righteous bullshit, you should ask yourself why you, the very one who proclaims to know so much about the law, rebel against upholding it.”

  Nate’s nostrils flared as he leaned across the desk at Daniels. His hand bawled up into a fist as he took long breaths before replying.

  “The ‘why’ is simple, Captain. When the law breaks the law, the consequences are deadly. I bear that cross every day,” he snarled. “It is the reason I come into this shithole of a work environment to try to make a difference. Forgive me for giving a damn about the people that you,” he pointed a finger at Daniels, “allow to go free. Every time you look past an incident like this you are giving the criminal the opportunity to assault again, to rape again, to murder again. While you are blaming the attorneys, take a look in the damn mirror. There is plenty of blame to go around. So, you go ahead and celebrate IA’s case against Cory being closed, but the next time another defense attorney does his job right, and a murderer gets off because the detectives in your squad fucked up, that will be on your head; not mine.”

  Nate swung the door open then walked out.

  42

  “What did IA say, Nate?” Cory jumped in his path to his desk.

  Nate grabbed him by the collar then slammed him against the wall. “Do your job with integrity and you won’t have to ask that question.”

  Tony and a few other detectives ran from their desks, trying to pull Nate away from Cory.

  “Kid…kid. Let him go.”

  Nate pushed off the man, grabbed his keys from his desk and left the building.

  “You’re pushing it,” Tony warned Cory. “You’re pushing it,” he said following Nate out the door.

  Nate had just reached his car when Tony called out.

  “Nate, wait.”

  “I can walk away from this shit, you know. I don’t have to be here.” Nate hissed.

  “Yes, you do,” Tony replied. “You have a point to prove, and they don’t get you, yet.”

  “Don’t give me that ‘father knows best’ voice, Tony,” Nate huffed. “The shit Cory pulled was right in his face…in Daniels’ face, Tony. And he’s turning his back! You know why I was so good at being a defense attorney in Richmond? Because the unit made it easy. Dropping the ball, crossing the line – hell, truth be told, I was an average attorney coming out of law school. I sharpened my teeth on police procedures because RPD was so fucking crappy at their jobs. It took literally no time to find discrepancies, unlawful search and seizures; oh, and the best one—the best one was Miranda Rights. It’s a fucking rookie mistake not to Mirandize a suspect; yet, that mistake comes from the elite of the RPD. How in the hell can he turn his back on this crap?”

  “Nobody likes hearing their mistakes, kid. Look, your heart is in the right place; you just have to find a way to make them listen. You want to change things, okay, I get that. But change takes time, kid. It’s not going to happen overnight or over one case. Keep showing us a different way. We need that. The department needs it, I need it, and those people, the residents of the city, they need it too.” Tony sighed. “Don’t give up on us so quick. Maybe—just maybe Alex’s case is going to be the one to open their eyes.”

  Nate leaned against his car out of frustration, but as he listened to what Tony was saying, the wisdom in his words began to seep through the anger. After years of handling cases one way, it would take time to re-program the thinking of individual detectives. Just as he had with Tony, all Nate could do was show them a different way.

  “It’s a struggle.” Nate sighed.

  “Yeah, well, the best things in life are a struggle. You have to be willing to take a stand and fight the good fight for Alex.”

  Nate nodded. “To the good fight, Tony.”

  “To the good fight, kid. I’ll see you at the funeral tomorrow?”

  Nate sighed as he opened the door to his car. “I’ll be there.”

  43

  Walking down 2ND st
reet in Richmond had always energized Nate – from the days of visiting the Croaker Spot restaurant that used to be on the corner to the 2nd Street Festival that was a weekend celebration of Black culture, the bond he had with the city was never superficial nor was it a place he just called home. It was home. Remembering where he came from taught him not to flaunt, but to help, not to belittle, but to protect, and not to take, but to give. All those things Nate learned from lessons she shared through her love for the city.

  His mother would take him, his brother Hayden, and his sister Audrey to every cultural event the city offered. Yes, they lived in the county, attended private schools, and lived the so- called “privileged life,” but his mother always made them understand that all those things were blessing that could be taken away at any time.

  Hard work, long hours, and dedication to the law was their family’s way. It all began in the three-story building at 109 Clay Street, where they lived upstairs in a two-bedroom apartment, while their father worked out of the basement office, sometimes meeting with clients until the wee hours of the morning. Looking at the building he’d purchased and renovated years ago, Nate couldn’t remember ever living there, but his mother always brought them by during the festival to tell them stories about their first home. His father was never around for those visits, it was as if he never wanted to look back at where they came from. But those lessons from his mother struck a chord in Nate’s heart.

  City life gave access, in walking distance, to just about everything. Tonight, he was walking up 2nd Street from Clay to Leigh to the soulful sounds of jazz and some southern cuisine.

  Walking in the door, he was greeted by a hostess.

  “Welcome to Southern Kitchen. Will you be dining alone, or will someone be joining you?”

  “Someone will be joining me shortly.” He smiled.

  “What a shame.” The waitress turned. “Follow me.”

  Nate walked down the aisle as heads turned his way. Taking the booth offered, he looked out the window to see Skylar hurrying down the sidewalk. He chuckled when she tripped, then caught herself.

  “Don’t tell me.” The waitress smiled. “That’s your date?”

  “Yes.” Nate took the menu that was offered.

  “A little clumsy I see,” the waitress chuckled. “I will bring her back.”

  “Thank you.” Nate nodded.

  Just as the female heads turned upon his entrance, men damn near fell out of their chairs when Skylar walked in the door. The red dress she was wearing fell right above her knees, a white blazer stopped at her waist, with four-inch heels at the bottom of long, gorgeous legs, causing even him to stare. He stood as she approached.

  “Hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Skylar said as she slid into the booth across from him.

  “Not long,” Nate said as he took her pink coat from her and placed it on the hook next to their window seat. “You seem bothered. What happened when you got back to the office?”

  “I got push back on everything: Christian Vaughan’s file request, official DOJ protection for Judge Reid…everything. How did it go in your office?”

  “We need witnesses other than Reid?” Nate replied. “The Chief did not shut me down, but he is right… We don’t have actual witnesses to anything, only Reid's statement that Christian Vaughan is the person who coordinated the scheme with the judges. It’s her word against his.” He sat back down placing the napkin on his lap.

  “Drinks?” Skylar sighed.

  “Yes.” Nate motioned to the waitress. They placed their drink and food orders and began talking.

  “I should have known this was going to be a crazy day when it began with a visit from Assistant Attorney General Haskell.” Skylar exhaled.

  “The US Assistant AG?” Nate raised an eyebrow. “Was the state AG there?”

  “No,” Skylar replied. “Neither was my boss, or his boss.”

  The waitress returned with their drinks. They waited until she left then continued.

  “Is that normal?” Nate asked.

  “Far from it. I learned it was because he believes we have people inside the office and the DOJ, who may not be too friendly towards “us”, and I don’t mean the Justice Department. I’m talking about the color of our skin.”

  “That is interesting.” Nate sat forward. “I had a similar discussion this morning with Chief Williams. He believes the same thing is happening inside RPD.”

  Skylar’s drink stopped mid-way to her lips. “Really?” She set the glass down. “Okay, slow down. The DOJ, the Commonwealth Attorney’s Office, and the Richmond Police Department may have unfriendly forces from within? Now we have Judge Reid telling us this is all about skin color?”

  “That’s not all that it’s about.” Nate went through the events of the night before: the balcony visitor, the discovery of Arthur Mosley’s connection to Peaceful Intervention…. By the middle of the meal, he had wrapped up all he had uncovered since the night of Alex’s death.

  “That was a hell of a 24-hour period. I leave you alone for one minute and you come back with a serum that cannot be identified, a secret investigation, and a viable connection to a previous case. One would think I could not possibly beat that, but I can,” Skylar stated, finishing her second drink then began; “You gave me a secret investigation, and I’m going to call your bid and raise it by one Assistant AG Haskell who opened a DOJ investigation into the prison facilities involved. Just as the investigation was picking up steam, he indicated the case was closed at the DOJ level by members of the judiciary branch of Congress. He also indicated the RPD may not be the only entity that may have insiders.”

  “I got the same impression when I spoke with Chief Williams. It seems the higher ups in both our offices may know a lot more than they are saying,” Nate suggested. “RPD, the Commonwealth Attorney’s Office, the Federal Prosecutor’s office, and let’s not forget the USAG’s office. I share with you the question I have been asking myself for the last 24 hours.” Nate sat back. “What in the hell have we come across here?”

  “Good damn question,” Skylar replied. “I don’t have an answer, but I’m going to keep drinking until something comes to me.”

  Nate laughed as he took the third drink from her. “We have to keep a clear mind to figure this out.”

  “All right.” Skylar took a deep breath then exhaled. “There are too many pieces on the board. We have to separate each to look at the picture in its entirety.”

  “I concur. The case I worked on was interesting in many ways. First, it literally fell together in my lap.”

  “Meaning?” Skylar sat forward.

  “I was called in for a murder investigation, at the same time, Alex called me to check on a friend who had been in a car accident. It just so happens that the young man who was killed was an informant to the reporter who was in the accident. Tony and I went to the prison system headquarters and were met by people who referred to themselves as the superior race. They even offered to reprogram Tony to accept his superiority.”

  “You are freakin’ kidding me.” Skylar laughed.

  “I kid you not,” Nate replied. “And they were serious. I ended up killing the man who committed the murder. Until now, I had no idea what happened to the third judge involved in the bribery case.”

  “Add that to enemies inside of certain agencies. What does it all mean?”

  “Conspiracy to take us back to the days of slavery?” Nate shrugged. “If so, how far up does it go?” Nate leaned in closer to her. “You indicated members of Congress stopped the DOJ investigation. Could this thing go all the way to D.C.?”

  Skylar sat back shaking her head. “Slavery?”

  “Or servitude to the ‘superior’ race in some way,” Nate shrugged. “The evidence seems to be going in that direction.”

  “We are missing a connection,” Skylar exhaled. “I’m tired of waiting for the next shoe to drop. Haskell indicates the DeFazio case is the catalyst to lead us to the larger case. There are so many twists
and turns, and I have a feeling that if we don’t uncover something soon, this entire investigation may be shut down on my end.”

  “Then take action.” Nate shrugged. “You know the houses that are under DeFazio’s rule. Pick one and raid it. You might shake something up. One of the girls may talk or at the very least have Roman numerals on the heel of her foot. If we can trace her back to one of the facilities, it could open the door for a warrant into Peaceful Intervention.”

  “Let me ask you a question. Regan Fontaine thinks those people at the prison facilities could be providing girls who are supposed to be incarcerated to DeFazio. Do you think she’s right?”

  Nate sat back. “At this point I think that is exactly what they are doing. And, I know the new acting Commonwealth Attorney is itching to close my case as a murder-suicide.”

  Skylar smacked her head with the palm of her hand. “So much has been happening I forgot to tell you. He came to my office today, with that fake southern charm, asking me to turn over the evidence in the DeFazio investigation.”

  “Whitaker?” Nate raised an eyebrow. “Did you turn it over?”

  “Hell no. He needs to get his own evidence. Besides I like him about as much as I like your man Vaughan. They kind of remind me of each other.”

  “That’s because they are both blond with blue eyes,” Nate stated, then paused with a thought. “Both of them would fit right in with the Peaceful Intervention people.”

  “Really?” Skylar shook her head. “Do you think your partner could be working with his father? I mean if our theory is right and these Peaceful Intervention people are trying to infiltrate RPD, what better way than to have someone come up through the ranks?”

  Nate exhaled. “For six months I’ve been asking the same question over and over. Who in the hell made him a detective?”

  “We will have to look deeper into both of them.”

  Nate nodded. “Yes, we do. Alex’s service is tomorrow, and you have a raid to set up.” Nate exhaled. “I have to pull out the blues tomorrow. Janice asked me to be a pallbearer.”