by Dave Daren
“That’s… good to know,” I said.
A shiver ran up my spine at the calm way he explained it, like he’d just given me a recipe for the perfect peanutbutter and jelly sandwich, but it was how to kill a man with a plastic utensil.
“How long until you have to be there?” Hank asked with a glance at his watch.
I pulled my phone out to look at the clock on its face.
“An hour and a half,” I said.
“It’ll only take half an hour to get there from here,” the bodyguard said. “Why don’t you call the boss, and I’ll go to the diner I saw on the way in. What do you want?”
“BLT,” I said. “But make sure they don’t skimp on the bacon. And rye bread if they have it.”
“You got it,” the bulky man said with a nod of his head.
I looked around, set my stuff down, and then took a deep breath before I dialed Anthony’s number. I knew he would be pissed that they’d already found me, but he’d be even more angry if he learned about the visit from Hank and not me.
“Did you sleep?” my employer asked on the second ring.
“I managed a little bit,” I said. “I had a visit from our favorite feds.”
The line was silent for so long that I checked to make sure that the call hadn’t been disconnected.
“How did they find out where you live?” the mobster said.
His voice was low and filled with a familiar rage that I was glad I wasn’t present for.
“No idea,” I said. “They showed up a few minutes ago.”
“What did they want?” he asked.
“The same thing they’ve been wanting,” I replied with a shrug. “They think I know something, and they want me to tell them what it is.”
“What did you tell them?” the mafioso asked.
I ran a hand through my hair as I shook my head. I knew that Anthony trusted me enough to handle his cases, but he still didn’t trust me completely. I tried not to take it personally since I knew that it came with the job description, but I was ready for him to trust that I wouldn’t turn him over to the feds.
“The same thing that I keep telling them,” I said. “They did say that they arrested Galic’s son, though they didn’t mention him by name. But they wanted the manufacturer. I told them that I had their card and would call them when, or if, I ever had anything that would help them.”
“Good,” the young Febbo muttered. “I don’t want to give them the laptop yet. I want to know what we have before we hand it over.”
“I had a chance to look over some of the paperwork earlier,” I said. “I know we’re getting close to figuring it all out. And then after that, we can hand the feds all the information they need to take down the mayor, the Serbians, and all of their lackeys.”
“But not before that,” Anthony warned. “I don’t want to give it to them until it’s wrapped up in a pretty bow. I figured out that the numbers you connected last night are all payoffs.”
“Payoffs for what?” I asked as I started to walk around my living room.
If the information on the laptop linked to specific people, then the FBI would have a list of exactly who to arrest. The feds couldn’t ask for a better case, and it would make my life a lot easier.
“I’m not entirely sure,” the mobster grumbled. “I recognize the amounts from some of my own business dealings, but without names, there’s no way to know exactly what it’s for.”
I sighed and stood in front of the doors to my patio. I stared out into the black tiled pool that I still hadn’t taken a swim in while I tried to figure out how we would connect the payoffs to the payees.
“The feds won’t be able to get a subpoena with just numbers,” I said. “We need to give them names if they’re going to look into somebody’s bank accounts.”
There was an irritated sigh from the end of the line, and I knew that Anthony was as frustrated as I was. It was like we took one step forward only to take two steps back, but we had the laptop, and it was only a matter of time before we could put names to the payoffs.
“There is a little bit of good news today,” Anthony said.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked as I walked over to the sectional and plopped down.
“My guys finally found out who kidnapped Rossi,” the mobster said. “And you’ll never believe who they work for.”
I grinned at the sarcasm in my boss’ voice.
“I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say… Gryffon?” I chuckled.
“Bingo!” he said.
I tapped my fingers on my pants leg as I processed the new information. It proved that Galic was involved in the cases against all of the Febbo family’s associates, and it made him the likely candidate as the head of the Serbians’ operations and not just the face.
“I bet that Galic is the one that ordered it,” I said. “Though, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out the warden had something to do with it, too. We might find out that his name is tied to one of those payoffs. It took way too long for his men to get to Rossi during the lockdown, and he was eager to keep me from seeing the video tapes.”
“I can’t wait to bring these bastards down,” Anthony growled. “The whole damn political scene in New York is corrupt, and they say that we’re the bad guys.”
“It’ll happen,” I promised. “Can your men definitively prove that the men who attacked Rossi were Gryffon employees?”
“Yeah,” the mobster said. “Why? What’s your plan?”
“Well,” I hedged as something started coming together in my mind. “I think that the feds would like to have that information. The DA wouldn’t be able to press charges against Galic since it was his men, and we can’t prove in court that they were under orders.”
“And the DA isn’t likely to actually press charges,” my employer snorted.
“Exactly,” I said. “If you don’t want to go to the feds, then I think we might be able to pull off a RICO case.”
“I thought they just used that against us,” Anthony laughed without any humor in his voice.
“It’s for any criminal organization,” I said. “I’ll need to look into it a little bit more. I’m not sure if just anyone can file one.”
I sat forward on my couch and unlocked my briefcase so that I could pull out my laptop. I vaguely remembered RICO law in law school, but I was fairly certain that anyone could make a claim as long as they could prove racketeering had occurred.
“Do it,” my employer said.
“I will,” I said. “I can file the paperwork after the court hearing today. It’s another case that shouldn’t take long because there’s no complaining witness. I swear they’re getting desperate.”
“Be careful, Hunter,” Anthony said. “Desperate people are dangerous people. Is Hank there with you?”
“He just got back,” I said as the bodyguard walked through the front door with a plastic bag with two styrofoam containers.
“Good,” the mafioso said. “You don’t go anywhere without him.
“I won’t,” I reassured him.
I didn’t have a death wish, and someone with a gun had tried to follow me home last night. I had no intention of giving them another opportunity if they decided to just kill me in broad daylight or corner me in a parking garage like they had at my old apartment building.
“Call me after you file,” Anthony said.
He hung up before I could respond, and I shook my head as I stood up to walk to the kitchen.
“Everything okay?” Hank asked as he handed me one of the white containers.
“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “I have a plan. I’ll need to file some paperwork after court today, but I want to head over to the Law Library in Manhattan to double-check some stuff. If I’m going to file a RICO case, then I need to make sure that I’ve dotted my ‘I’s’ and crossed my ‘T’s.’”
“RICO case, huh?” the bodyguard said before he stuffed a giant bite of his cheeseburger into his mouth.
“Yep,” I said.
I took a bite and was pleased to find that the bacon was the exact right amount of crunchiness. It didn’t have that aftertaste that always came when bacon had been cooked hours before, and the lettuce was crisp and fresh.
“You good?” the beefy man across the counter from me asked with a smirk.
“This is amazing,” I said. “This may be my new favorite place for a BLT.”
The large man nodded his head in understanding before he took another bite of his cheeseburger. He’d opted for a side salad instead of french fries, and I remembered that he was supposed to be watching his cholesterol. He’d at least picked a healthy side, though the grease that dripped back into the container from the burger was probably counterproductive.
I ate my sandwich and fries as quickly as I could. I needed to leave soon so that I could find a good parking spot, and luckily it would be after the lunch rush when I made it to the Queens courthouse. I swept up the empty containers from my lunch, grabbed Hank’s, and then tossed them into the trash.
“Time to head out?” Hank asked as I stuffed my laptop back into my briefcase.
I hadn’t had a chance to research anything, but I could do that as soon as court was out. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ordman sent that ADA again since the case was so flimsy, and then I’d be free to head over to the Law Library. I even knew the exact section of the library where I would find what I needed. I could practically picture it from all the time I’d spent wandering the shelves in law school, though I’d never imagined at the time that I’d be helping one mobster file a RICO claim against another mobster.
My drive to Queens was relatively uneventful despite some stop and go traffic near the racetrack. I kept an eye out for the Impala that I’d seen the night before, but if I had a tail, they were much better at hiding than the guys from the night before. I did see Hank’s black Chrysler 300 on the road behind me, and I took comfort in knowing that he’d be right there if one of Galic’s men tried to run me off the road.
There were a few spots open near the front of the courthouse, since most of the cases for the day were already done, and it was late enough that the lunch rush for the coffee shop and diner had already died down so I had my choice of where I wanted to park. I picked one near the steps, waved at Hank as he climbed out of his car, and then trotted up to the doors.
I made it all the way to the assigned courtroom before I found out that my case had been continued. I walked up to the pale wood door to see a printed note that informed me that the judge was ill and would need to reschedule all of his cases. I didn’t trust that it wasn’t some stunt from Ordman, but a quick check of my email told me that the magistrate really was out for the day, and that my case had been pushed back until later in the week.
It irritated me that no one had called to tell me, but at least my client was out on bail instead of lingering in a jail cell somewhere. I texted Hank to let him know that the case had been pushed back and that I’d be headed to the Law Library in Manhattan, yawned, and then weaved back through the corridors and out of the courthouse.
I needed more caffeine if I was going to make it through textbooks on RICO cases, and I knew the perfect spot to stop at while I was on the way to the library. I had haunted the place while I was in law school, but I hadn’t had a reason to stop in after I’d graduated. I found a parking spot a block away from the shop, darted inside to collect my vanilla chai latte with a triple shot, and then made my way to the familiar library.
The RICO case books were exactly where I remembered them being. I grabbed a few, picked out a table in the back corner where no one would be able to sneak up on me, and got to work. I pulled out my laptop so that I could fill out the paperwork as I went, and barely even looked up when Hank’s shadow passed by on his rounds around my small corner of the universe.
It took me a few hours to make sure that I had everything that I needed. I knew that if there was an investigation that the feds would have to be the ones to do it, but for the moment I had what I needed to file against Gryffon. I wanted to include the warden and DA Adams for good measure, but until I could place a specific payoff into their accounts, it was just libel and was likely to get me into more trouble than it was worth. I could always add their names later with an amended complaint, and maybe the mayor’s, if we got really lucky.
I did have enough to prove that Gryffon had been involved in the kidnapping of Rossi, and that was at least enough to get me started. I could name Galic and the guards that Anthony had linked to the abduction, and that would hopefully throw the Serbians off enough to make a mistake.
The courthouse was scheduled to close in an hour, so I printed all of the paperwork out and headed to the Bronx. I was sure that the DA would be corrupt there, but if I could file the paperwork and get it before a judge, then the DA wouldn’t be able to stop me from pursuing the case against the Gryffon company. I could also leak the information to my reporter friend if it was rejected, but I preferred to go the legal route first.
I watched for Hank’s black Chrysler 300 as I climbed the steps to the Bronx courthouse. I was sure that Galic would know that I was in his backyard, and he would no doubt hear about the paperwork as soon as I submitted it. I would be an easy target for an assassin while I was in Galic’s territory, especially if that person worked for the court system.
“Can I help you?” a young woman asked as I reached her desk.
She was in her early thirties with blonde hair that had been twisted into a bun, a plain black dress, and bright red lipstick that had left a mark on the white porcelain coffee mug on her desk. She had tried to hide the bags under her eyes with makeup, but the puffy skin was still obvious.
“Yes,” I said with a grin. “I have some paperwork I’d like to file.”
“Of course,” she said before she covered a yawn with her delicate hand. “It may take a few days before you get a case number and a judge assignment. It’s been busy lately.”
“I understand,” I said.
I balanced my briefcase on the edge of her desk while I retrieved the freshly printed paperwork. I took a deep breath before I handed it over, and then snapped my leather briefcase shut and nodded my head.
“A RICO case,” she murmured. “Hmmm. Well, that may get a little more attention.”
“I expect it will,” I said with a bright smile. “I hope you have a lovely evening.”
“You, too,” she replied.
She had already started to type into her computer as I walked away, and the sound of the tapping keys made me giddy and nervous all at the same time. I had done it. I’d filed a RICO case against the Gryffon company and had just made myself an even bigger target than I had been before. I looked around at the growing shadows as I stepped out of the courthouse, like one of Galic’s men would jump out to kill me right there, but the only person that I saw was Hank as he leaned against the hood of his car.
I’d just reached him when my phone started ringing. I fished it out of my pocket, frowned, and then glanced back up at the courthouse. The number was for the Bronx court system, and I wondered if I had missed something in the paperwork. Fortunately, I was still there so I could easily run back inside to make any corrections, though I couldn’t think of anything that I might have forgotten.
“This is Hunter Morgan,” I said in my best lawyer voice as I answered.
“Mr. Morgan,” a man’s voice responded. “This is Judge Rivers. I want to see you in my chambers. Now.”
Chapter 6
“You wanted to see me?” I asked.
There was a sigh from the other side of the phone as I looked over at my beefy bodyguard. I was still in front of the Bronx courthouse, but the doors were about to be locked for the ni
ght. I looked at my watch and saw there was only twenty minutes before the end of day, and then I would be alone with Judge Rivers with no witnesses.
I hadn’t presented a case before the judge before so I had no idea if he was on the Serbs’ payroll. I knew that most of the DAs were, but it hadn’t seemed like any of the judges were favorable toward them. I still didn’t want to take a risk of being alone with him if he was, though.
“Yes,” the magistrate said. “In my chambers. I assume you’re still close enough since the paperwork just came through.”
“I’m right out front,” I answered. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Who was that?” Hank asked.
The large man leaned against the hood of his black Chrysler 300 with his hands in his pockets and a blank expression on his face, But he tilted his head as he waited for my answer. He was the picture of relaxation, but I knew that he could spring into action at a moment's notice.
“Judge Rivers,” I said. “He must be the judge that received the RICO case.”
“And he wants to see you?” the Italian man asked.
I nodded my head and rolled my shoulders. I needed another dose of caffeine to keep the exhaustion at bay, but I had enough energy to get through one more meeting. I would need to stop on the way home, though, and I’d noticed a nice-looking place near my house that I still hadn’t checked out.
“I’m coming in with you,” Hank said as he pushed off his car.
He unlocked the door with his key fob, unclipped the holster from his side, and then pulled out a smaller pistol from his right leg. He produced two knives from under his arms, and then slipped a card-shaped throwing star from his wallet. He stuffed all of his weaponry into the glovebox, locked the car again, and then shoved his hands into his pockets as he turned to look at me.
“That was… impressive,” I said with a shake of my head.
I knew that the bodyguard avoided coming into court with me if he could manage it, but I hadn’t realized it was because he kept an entire arsenal on him. I wasn’t surprised about the two pieces that he had, or the knives since I’d seen them once when a gust of wind had blown his suit jacket back. But the card-shaped throwing star was new. I wondered if he had more weapons that would pass through the metal detector, like maybe a sharpened plastic knife, but the less I knew about his arsenal, the better.
