The Hate Crime

by Rachel Sinclair

  “Who did he get to do it?”

  Somehow, I knew the answer to that question. I guess it was because I knew who Beck worked for on the outside. I remembered that Heather told me that Beck was the cleaner for Vincent Sharpelli. I thought that it would probably be poetic justice, on the part of the sadistic father, to hire Vincent Sharpelli, and I knew that Vince was the kind of mercenary who would do something like that to one of his contract employees. Which, I assumed that Beck was. From what I understood, Beck didn’t work for Vincent Sharpelli on a regular basis, rather, he did occasional jobs when he needed to.

  I looked over at Harper, who was already on the phone with our process server, subpoenaing David. Apparently, while Tom was talking to me, she was busy getting a subpoena ready.

  “I just spoke with Scott Kelly,” Harper said. Scott Kelly was our process server. “He’s going to be here in five minutes to get the subpoena. He’s going to take it to the prison tonight, and we can expect to see David in court tomorrow morning.”

  “So Vincent Sharpelli was the person that he hired to kill Adele. Now I have to ask you this question. Who was the cleaner who got rid of the body of Sean Maddow?” I braced myself for the inevitable answer, because I knew who it was. And I was going to have to have a talk with him about it.

  “It was your client, Beck Harrison.”

  Chapter 35

  “Thank you for digging all this up.” I knew I was going to have to talk to Beck about the change in strategy. I also had to talk to him about why it was he would’ve protected his father when his father killed a gay man simply for dancing and kissing another another man in a bar. It didn’t surprise me that David Harrison would do something like that. What somewhat surprised me was that Beck apparently was in on this murder. If not in on it, he was involved in covering it up.

  “Looks like I’m going to have to visit Beck tonight and tell him what’s going on. I don’t know how he’s going to take this. Something tells me he’s going to be pretty upset about it. In fact, I wouldn’t even be surprised if he knew about this all along, and he was perfectly willing to throw Larry Rodriguez and Charlie Williams under the bus.”

  Then again, perhaps I needed to not jump to conclusions. Maybe Beck didn’t know that his father was behind it. I thought that there was an outside chance that Beck was as in the dark as we were up until now. I wanted to believe that.

  “Come on, Harper, let’s go over to where Beck’s staying.”

  Beck went to stay with his sister Charity when he was able to make bail. The reason why he was staying with her was because she was the only person he knew who didn’t have a felony record.

  Harper and I took one car over to Charity’s apartment complex. We got to her apartment, and knocked on her door.

  “Yo, dog.” Beck seemed like he was in a good mood. He and Charity were sitting in the living room, watching America’s Dumbest Criminals, laughing and drinking beer. “Come on in. Me and Charity, we’re just shooting the shit. I figure this might be one of the last times I can hang out with her like this. No offense, dog, you did a good job in court and all today, but you have to admit things ain’t looking good for me.”

  I looked over at Charity. I was going to ask her to leave, since there was a possibility that I was going to have to invoke attorney-client privilege on some of the topics I was going to be bringing up with Beck. Especially when I was going to have to ask him about him cleaning for his own father. “Charity, I hate to ask you to do this, I know it’s your own apartment, but I need to speak with Beck in private. I hope you don’t mind.”

  She looked at Beck and at me. She had a question in her eyes, but she obediently went into the bedroom to leave us alone to talk to him.

  Beck looked at us suspiciously. “What’s going on here?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s going on here. The first thing I want to ask you is what do you know about the murder of Sean Maddow?” Harper did some quick research on the issue on the way over to see Beck, and she found out that Sean Maddow went missing around five years ago, right before Beck went to prison for his robbery. His body was never recovered. From what Harper gathered from her research, at the time that Sean Maddow went missing, it was kind of a big story. Sean was just a regular guy. He was a waiter, and he was working at the same restaurant that David Harrison worked at as a short order cook. He apparently was also going to school at UMKC, majoring in liberal arts, while living at home. He was only 19. The story was front-page news for a couple of days, but it soon faded off the front page.

  I thought about the family of Sean Maddow. I thought about how they probably were still, even now, five years later, thinking about their son and wondering what happened to him. In my mind’s eye, I saw his mother sitting in his bedroom, maybe looking at old pictures of him from when he was a boy, maybe she was smelling his clothes, and hugging them to her chest, while she sat down on his bed and thought about her missing son. I thought about his father, who probably stoically came home every day after work, to sit down in his easy chair and drink his problems away. I imagined that their marriage was strained. Maybe Sean had a brother or a sister who thought about their brother every single day of their lives. Probably his bedroom was the same as when he left it.

  I thought about how Sean Maddow’s family never got closure on Sean’s death, and Beck was a reason why they never got closure on his death. His family never knew what happened to him. Nobody ever knew what happened to him - he just disappeared one night. And the reason why he just disappeared one night, was because of my client. That thought made me sick. It made me sick, and it made me not want to go into court the next day and defend him anymore.

  There was a part of me that wanted to tank his case. It wasn’t like if I tanked his case, the real killer was going to go free. The real killer, the actual killer, was already behind bars. I could go into court tomorrow and announce to the judge that I was going to rest, and my conscience would be completely clear. I could go to the jury, and, in my closing arguments, advise the jury to hang my client, and I would sleep like a baby.

  I looked at his arrogant face, and I wanted to smash it in. I wanted to pummel that smug face with my fists. However, my professionalism won out in the end. And, I still had to think of Heather. Heather was terrified that I was going to lose Beck’s case. She knew that if I did, it would be all she wrote for her.

  Beck looked like he didn’t know what I was talking about. “Sean Maddow. Sean Maddow. Where have I heard that name before?”

  I took a deep breath. And then another. I had to try to calm down before I told Beck what was going on. “Don’t fucking snow me. You know godddamn good and well who Sean Maddow is.”

  Beck assumed a defensive posture. “Yo, dog, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I looked over at Harper. “You fucking talk to him. I can’t right now.” At that, I went to Charity’s sliding glass door that opened onto her balcony, and sat down on a chair that was out there. I slammed the sliding door shut behind me. I knew that Harper was going to be able to take control of the situation. She didn’t have the same kind of temper that I did. She always felt sorry for her people too. She probably was feeling sorry for Beck right now. Let her be the good cop, I thought. One of us had to be.

  About a half-hour later, Harper came out on the balcony, and sat next to me. “I told him what’s happening. He’s not happy about it.”

  “Of course, he’s not happy about it. He just figured that we would go along and throw innocent people under the bus, and leave his father alone. You can just tell him this – either we tell the jury the truth about his father, and we bring in his father, and on the stand we try to break him down so that he’ll tell the truth, or I’m going to fucking rest tomorrow. I won’t put one goddamn witness on that stand. No way am I going to be dragging people into some kind of dog and pony show, making the jury think that this innocent person or that innocent person did it, when I know the truth. I know the truth, and so does our client.”
/>
  Harper was quiet for a few minutes. “For what it’s worth, when I told Beck what we found out about his dad, he didn’t seem surprised, but he also didn’t appear to me that he knew this beforehand. He told me that it sounded like something his father would do, but that he didn’t know that it happened. I don’t know whether to believe him or not. At any rate, I talked him into going along with this strategy. He figures it’s not going to hurt his father any, because, after all, he’s LWOP as it is.”

  “I have no doubt that he’s okay with bringing his father into this, because, as you say, it’s not going to be a big deal for his father to get convicted for this. It’s just one more murder that he’ll be serving time for. To that guy, this is nothing. That’s not why I’m angry, however. I’m angry because of what happened to that poor kid, Sean Maddow, and how Beck helped his bastard father cover up that murder. I’m angry for the father and mother of Sean Maddow, both of whom probably have never gotten over the fact that their son went missing so many years ago. I’m angry because if Sean Maddow’s body had been found, his family would have peace. What do you think the chances are that our client even knows where Sean Maddow’s body is anymore? After all, he was the one who got rid of the Reverend Scott. As Heather said, Beck’s one of the best cleaners in the business. He knows how to get rid of the body. The Reverend Scott will never be found, because our client is such a good cleaner, and you can be goddamned sure that Sean Maddow will never be found either. That means that his family will never get closure, and the reason why they’ll never be able to move on is because of our client. That’s why I’m angry.”

  Harper took a deep breath. “Go in there and talk to him. Talk to him about how mad you are about this whole situation. The two of you obviously need to clear the air.”

  That was the truth. I couldn’t have this kind of animosity towards Beck going into the final part of his trial. “I –” I stood up, and sat back down. “Goddammit. That boy has such an asshole for a father. Why would he do something like that to cover up what his bastard father did? That just makes me sick. That just –”

  Harper was looking at me with big eyes. “Damien, you might be too close to this. After what happened between you and your father, I think that what happened here maybe is bringing all that up for you. Maybe you need to take a break. Maybe I need to go ahead and finish the trial tomorrow.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “You have to have some distance.”

  “That’s not what’s going on here. I’m just pissed because –” I took a deep breath. “You’re probably right, Harper. You probably should finish the trial tomorrow. Not just because I think that you’re right that I can’t be objective about this, but I also think that being examined by a woman on the stand is going to set him off. And that’s what we need. But you’re right, I don’t think I can be objective on this. For obvious reasons.”

  “Go in there and talk to Beck. I think that you’ll be pleasantly surprised by his demeanor tonight.”

  I opened up the door, and saw that Beck was standing there in the living room. His head was down, and he looked ashamed. He didn’t look like the cocky jerk that I saw earlier in the evening, drinking a beer with his sister, and watching dumb criminals get arrested on TV. “You wanted to talk to me?” He didn’t refer to me as “dog,” he didn’t use street language. At this point, he just seemed like a bewildered twenty-something kid who was ashamed of his father, yet strangely wanting to still please him.

  “Sit down.”

  He sat down on the couch. He looked at his hands, which were clasped between his legs. His head was down. He finally looked up at me, and I could see anguish in his eyes. I could feel my defenses slowly melt away. Like Harper, I actually felt sorry for the kid.

  “Beck, I know what you did with Sean Maddow. What I would like to know is why you did it?”

  He still was looking at his hands, with his head down. He finally shook his head. “My dad wasn’t the easiest dad. He never was around when I was growing up, and when he was, he was beating on me. I never understood what I did wrong. All I wanted, all my life, was for him to see me as somebody that he didn’t hate. All I’ve done in my life have been things that I thought would make my dad not despise me. I joined the AB because my dad was also in the same prison, and I knew that if I joined the AB that he would be proud of me. I got these tattoos, so he can see that I’m serious about the AB creed. Goddammit, I went through all that pain to get these tattoos, so he could see me as a son that he can respect. I joined the AB because I thought it would bring me closer to him. That’s why I cleaned up Sean Maddow. I so wanted him to see me as his son, and not as somebody that he despised. It didn’t work. Of course. But I thought that I should try.”

  I found myself feeling strangely paternal towards this poor kid. I never thought that I would look at him and feel that way, but I did. And I suddenly realized, for the first time, that I actually wanted to win his case, because I wanted to win it for him. Not just because I wanted the victory. Not just because Heather’s freedom was on the line. But, rather, I wanted to win the case because I wanted to keep him out of prison. My attitude towards him had changed, once I saw what was behind his defenses.

  “Beck,” I began. “Do you know where Sean Maddow is?” I knew the answer to the question. I doubted very seriously that Beck knew. Even if he knew, I had a feeling that Sean Maddow’s remains did not even exist anymore. I didn’t know what Beck did to get rid of these bodies, but I imagined that he probably disposed of them thoroughly. So thoroughly that their bodies were just completely gone.

  He shook his head. “No. I dissolved it in acid. He’s completely gone.”

  “Can you go to the police and tell them what happened? Can you do that? There’s a grieving family out there who lost their 19-year-old son, and they will be forever hoping for him to come home. They’re probably still waiting by the phone, for that call, praying for the best, but fearing the worst. We just don’t know what kind of twilight that is. How tormenting it can be, to not know. Could you please go to the authorities and tell them that Sean Maddow was killed by your father? Can you do that? You don’t even have to tell them that you were the one who disposed of the body. I just think that those poor people need some peace.”

  Beck nodded his head. “Yeah. I’ve had this on my mind for all these years. Don’t get me wrong, I clean up messes for Vinnie. But usually, the messes I clean up are bad dudes. Guys that nobody’s gonna miss. But that Sean, that’s always been something that has been eating away at me. You’re right. I’m sure Sean has a family who loves him. So yeah, I’ll tell the cops that my dad did it.”

  “Harper’s going to be taking over the trial tomorrow. I think it’s best, after what happened with my father, but also I think that Harper being a woman is going to set your dad off. And that’s what we want. We want him to show his true colors to the jury. If she does it right, it should be an open and shut case.”

  “You didn’t mention my dad in your opening statement. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “No. The opening statement is more of a courtesy thing. In fact, I didn’t even have to make an opening statement. All that matters is that your father was on the witness list that I gave to the prosecutor. The prosecutor, therefore, had notice that there was a possibility that your father was going to be called to the stand. That’s all that matters. The prosecutors have to have some kind of notice about my witnesses, because they have to have a chance to depose them if they want to, or otherwise prepare for them.”

  I was glad that I was so thorough in my witness preparation that I put the father on there. I should’ve thought about him in the first place. I didn’t know why I didn’t, except for it was just a blind spot. Maybe it was a blind spot because of my own father – I had to put up with my criminal father and I didn’t want anybody else to go through that. I didn’t know. It was probably some kind of a psychological block that I had.

  Beck took a deep breath and let it out. Then he made a little joke. “I
guess the good news is that my dad’s already a lifer. One more murder on his record ain’t gonna do a thing.”

  I smiled. “True. Very true.”

  Chapter 36

  The next day, Harper and I got to the courthouse early. She wanted to make sure that David was transported from the prison in a timely manner. That’s what kind of concerned me. If the prison wasn’t able to transport him right away, I was just going to have to go ahead and put on my other witnesses, just to buy some time. And, at this point, I didn’t want to do that. Granted, the other alternative suspects were not exactly choir boys. They were bad guys. However, they weren’t good for this case, so I didn’t want to drag them into court and make the jury think that they were. I didn’t want the authorities looking at them for this murder.

  We got to the court room, and Harper went to find the guards who were responsible for transporting David to the courthouse. She came back up a half-hour later, and she was smiling. “David’s here. He’s waiting in the witness room with the guards. I think it’s safe to say that he has no idea why he’s here. Or maybe he does. How could he not know?”

  “How, indeed? But I’ve found that humans have a remarkable ability to not see things that they don’t want to see. I have a feeling that he probably genuinely has no idea he’s about to get hammered on the stand. By a woman, at that.” I had to smile at that one. “I just can’t wait to see the look on his face when you start bringing him down.”