A Father's Wrath

by Phil Nova

  “Bailiff!”

  Two court officers grabbed Joe and began to escort him back to the cage.

  Joe didn’t fight. He knew there would be plenty of time for that later.

  Another bailiff entered and handed the judge a document.

  After reading it, the judge asked, “Is this a joke?”

  “No your honor.”

  “Take him.”

  The bailiff escorted Joe out of the cage and said, “You are to appear in another court.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m just the messenger.”

  The bailiff led Joe down the hall and into an elevator. While they went up two floors, Joe wondered what was going on. He wondered if it had to do with Richie. He hoped that they caught McCoy with the money from the bribe, but he knew that was a long shot.

  They got out of the elevator and proceeded to an office.

  Inside the expensive office sat a short fat balding man in a judge’s robe. Bookshelves lined two walls while a painting of another old man in a judge’s robe hung from the wall behind the desk. Joe wondered who the old man in the painting was.

  Next to the judge sat a tall man with thick white hair, pale blue eyes, and a charcoal gray Brooks Brothers suit. The man was Joe’s uncle, Congressman Timothy Scott.

  As soon as Joe saw his uncle, he lowered his head in shame.

  Uncle Timothy stood and hugged Joe. “I’m glad to see you’re okay. I know what those animals do to cops in there.”

  The judge stood and shook Joe’s hand. “Brian McDonald.”

  “Your honor.”

  The judge took off his robe, revealing a shiny blue suit. “We don’t have to be so formal in here. Call me Brian.”

  Joe glanced over at his uncle, then back at the judge.

  The judge said, “Your uncle and I go way back. He explained the whole thing to me and I told him I’d be glad to help. The DA was out of line charging you with conspiracy. The way I see it, it was an error in judgment. The truth is, off the record of course, if someone raped any of my grandchildren, I’d chop off their cock and balls too.”

  Joe didn’t know what to say. He looked at his uncle.

  Uncle Timothy said, “The conspiracy charges are dropped. But the NYPD wanted you gone. There was nothing we could do to save your job.”

  The judge said, “Wouldn’t you rather be a lawyer than a cop anyway, son? It must get cold out there.”

  “It does.”

  Uncle Timothy asked, “You have kept your license up to date, haven’t you?”

  CHAPTER 25

  On Thursday evening, Bradley sat in the back of his limo while creeping along the Long Island Expressway after another day at the office. The divider was up as it usually was on his way home. Bradley liked to catch a power nap any time he could, and the way home was usually the best time.

  But Bradley hadn’t slept well for days. The more he thought about what Lu had done to that poor boy, the more he hated himself for helping Lu. But what was he supposed to do? Give up all those years of hard work and sacrifice for just one boy? A boy who was brutally raped.

  Bradley knew about Joe Martello and his law degree and relationship with Richie Carson, and he also knew that no one could connect Joe Martello to himself, so he decided to send Joe some information on Ko Sin Lu. At least the information may be able to help Richie Carson at his trial.

  Bradley had a second cell phone, an unregistered prepaid phone that he used to for illegal conversations and also, to call Olga.

  He searched some European news articles, then copied and pasted some of the contents, enough information to put Joe Martello on the right track.

  CHAPTER 26

  After checking up on his mother last night, Joe went straight to his own bed to sleep.

  First thing in the morning, he cleaned his house, did his grocery shopping, and then hit the gym for a quick workout.

  After a shower, he spent a couple hours trying to read and organize the hundreds of documents in his father’s case. He read until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any more, then he took a long nap.

  Joe awoke that evening to a beep on his phone. He knew from the sound that it was an email. At first, he thought it was spam because he didn’t recognize the email address, but then he read the subject line: pedophile escapes justice.

  Joe opened the email. There was no message, only portions of news articles that were copied and pasted from various websites.

  Joe learned that Ko Sin Lu’s second cousin is the president of the new government in their country, and Lu was first appointed ambassador to Switzerland.

  After being accused of molesting an eight-year-old Polish boy, Lu hid behind diplomatic immunity and went back to his country, but Switzerland didn’t want him there anymore.

  CHAPTER 27

  On Friday morning, Bradley had a brunch meeting with David and Wayne. They all ordered the same thing, eggs benedict, and a screwdriver.

  David spoke in a low voice, but not a whisper. “Wayne, tell Bradley what the phone taps and email monitors came up with.”

  Wayne said, “Our friend, the cop, knows about what happened in Switzerland.”

  Bradley’s heart dropped. His hands began to sweat. Is it possible they knew? He played it off, hoping, they weren’t on to him. “That’s not so hard to find out for someone with some computer skills.”

  David said, “You’re right. But the thing is, now that Mr. Carson is in jail. I think we can get to the mother. Get her to take the money and sign the forms. And with her husband in prison, he won’t be much of a threat anymore.”

  Wayne added, “But that damn cop just won’t leave well enough alone. We know he's gonna continue poking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  Bradley turned to David and asked, “So, what do you suggest?”

  David hesitated, then he said, “I’m going to let Wayne handle it.”

  Bradley shook his head. “I wish you would think this through.”

  “I did.” David drained his drink, then waved for the waitress to come over.

  When Bradley had woken up that morning, he looked at the time and date on his phone and realized that it was Friday the 13th. He didn’t usually believe in bad luck, but now, he was beginning to entertain the idea.

  David said, “I know how you feel, Bedford. But this Martello kid is a problem waiting to happen. We can’t afford any more problems now. It’s time for damage control.”

  Bradley wished he could change their minds about Martello, but he knew he couldn’t. He was just happy that they weren’t on to him, or at least it didn’t seem so.

  CHAPTER 28

  That morning, Joe had slept late, then hit the gym early. After going home for a protein drink and a shower, Joe read his father’s files for about an hour, then took another nap. He knew how easy it would be to get into such a comfortable routine, but he also knew he would run out of money in no time.

  After cooking and eating dinner, Joe washed and dried his clothes in the basement, then brought them upstairs to the living room where he began folding them. Sade played on the radio in the background.

  The dogs in the backyard began barking like crazy.

  Just as Joe was about to go to the backyard to see what they were barking at, he saw the shadow of a person approaching his front door. He had never believed in anything supernatural, but occasionally he seemed to have feelings about things, maybe instincts. And now was one of those times—Joe knew something was wrong.

  Just as he was about to pick up his next pair of briefs and fold them, he decided instead to take a look out the front window.

  Something slammed into the front door.

  Joe dashed to a metal can by the door with umbrellas in it and pulled out a wooden baseball bat.

  Something slammed into the door again—this time smashing it open as wood splinters shot everywhere.

  A man in a ski mask entered with an MP-5.

  Joe swung the bat and connected with the man’s head.


  The first man dropped.

  A second man jumped over the first man’s body.

  Joe squatted and swung the bat, crushing the second man’s ankles.

  The man went down.

  Joe smashed the second man’s head with the bat, then raced up the stairs.

  He’d turned in his service pistol, but still had his own personal gun in the bedroom. He opened his underwear drawer and retrieved his 9mm.

  With the pistol fully loaded, cocked, and ready to fire, Joe crept out of the bedroom and peeked over the staircase.

  The two men in ski masks were still on the floor unconscious. Joe knew he should have grabbed their guns instead of running upstairs for his own, but he didn’t think of that until now.

  He knew if he were watching a movie, he’d be calling himself stupid for that, but in real life, things didn’t always work out perfectly.

  Just as he was about to make his way down the stairs, Joe noticed another man in a ski mask creeping into the living room from the kitchen.

  Joe didn’t hear his dogs barking anymore and he knew that man had to come in from the backyard. He hoped Yin and Yang were still alive.

  The third man approached the two bodies in the living room.

  Joe fired a shot, hitting the third man and knocking him down.

  The man turned and aimed his gun up the stairs at Joe.

  Joe fired three consecutive shots.

  The sound of rapid machine gun fire got louder as a fourth man in a ski mask fired into the living room.

  Joe went back into the bedroom, ready to jump out the back window. He heard the machine gun fire a few shots, then it stopped. Joe looked out the window. Both of his dogs were laid out on the grass, not moving.

  He turned and went back to the top of the staircase. With his gun out in front of him, he peeked over the staircase, into the living room. The fourth man was not there.

  Joe tiptoed down the steps while keeping his eyes on the smashed open front door and the entrance to the kitchen. At the bottom of the stairs, Joe heard a car outside screeching away.

  He peeked out the front door. No one was there. The street was silent. The sound of Sade singing continued in the background from inside the house.

  Joe went back in. All three men on the floor were full of bullet holes.

  He hurried to the backyard to check his dogs. They were unconscious, but alive. They must have tranquilized them.

  Sirens got louder as Joe checked the rest of the house to be sure no one else was there.

  He stepped out the front door and took his gun permit from his wallet as a cop car pulled up onto the front yard with sirens blaring.

  The cops pointed their guns at Joe.

  He raised his hands. “They attacked me in my house. My gun is on the coffee table inside. Here’s the permit.”

  They approached cautiously.

  Michelle pulled up in her Maxima. She parked on the street and got out. “Joe? What happened?”

  “It’s okay, baby. Just stay by your car.”

  Two other cop cars skidded down the street and screeched to a stop in front of Joe’s house as the neighbors peeked out their windows.

  CHAPTER 29

  Joe and his mother had a guest for Sunday dinner, Uncle Timothy.

  While eating, they spoke about current events and the weather.

  After dinner, they all settled down in the living room and polished off a couple six-packs. They talked about memories, good ones and bad ones, and they did a lot of laughing. Disco from the ‘70’s played in the background.

  Joe was happy that his uncle the congressman was still enough of a regular guy to have some beers and some laughs with his family.

  Uncle Timothy pulled a wooden pipe from his pocket. “Sorry, sis, but I need a smoke.”

  “Just don’t do it in here.”

  Timothy stood and turned to Joe. “Come outside and keep me company.”

  Joe followed his uncle out the sliding glass door to the backyard.

  The white plastic furniture on the back porch had a thin sheet of ice and didn’t look very clean, so they stood.

  The air was cold, but the lack of wind made it comfortable.

  Timothy packed his pipe with cherry tobacco, then, before lighting it, he said, “Tell me everything . . . from the beginning.” He lit his pipe and began puffing away.

  Joe told him about finding the raped boy at the fundraiser and explained everything that had happened since then.

  Timothy said, “Yates Pharmaceuticals is a multi-billion dollar a year business, and The Republic of Tan Guk Van recently granted them exclusive rights to eighty percent of the country’s opium poppy fields.”

  Joe said, “That explains a lot.”

  Timothy let out a big cloud of smoke, then removed the pipe from his mouth and said, “Do you believe Detective McCoy took a bribe?”

  Joe nodded. “I do.”

  Timothy took another puff, then asked, “Do you know what today is?”

  Joe didn’t like smoking, but he did enjoy the smell of cherry tobacco coming from a pipe. He answered his uncle’s question, “Sunday.”

  He lit his pipe again, then said, “Today is the Ides of March.”

  “The day they killed Caesar.”

  Timothy nodded. “I’m going to arrange a meeting with this Mr. Bedford.”

  “You think you can get him to offer you a bribe?”

  “It shouldn’t be so hard. Everyone thinks all politicians are on the take anyway.”

  CHAPTER 30

  After learning of Wayne Norman’s botched assassination attempt, Bradley wondered if it wasn’t time to get into a different line of business, but then again, Wayne’s mercenaries might come after him, just because he knows too much.

  When Congressman Scott contacted him at his office this morning, Bradley became even more worried. He knew that Congressman Scott was Joe Martello’s uncle, and after what had just happened, that put him in a very bad spot.

  Bradley had spent the entire day in his office, on his computer, making sure that there wasn’t any incriminating evidence against himself, Wayne, or David. He didn’t even stop for lunch.

  “Damn you, Wayne Norman.” Bradley checked his watch for the hundredth time.

  The intercom on his desk buzzed.

  Bradley pressed a button and answered, “Yes?”

  A woman’s voice answered, “Congressman Scott is here to see you.”

  Bradley glanced at his watch again and said to himself, “Fifteen minutes early.” He adjusted his silk tie, then pressed the button on the intercom and said, “Send him in, Lois.”

  Congressman Scott stood a couple inches taller than Bradley. He had a full head of thick white hair and pale blue eyes.

  They shook hands.

  “Have a seat congressman.”

  The congressman sat and displayed a big perfect smile. “Call me Timothy.”

  Bradley knew the congressman had spent hundreds, if not thousands of hours practicing his smile. He knew from experience that the more trustworthy a politician seemed, the less trustworthy he really was. “Can I get you something to drink . . . Timothy?”

  “No, thank you. I really don’t have time to stay. I just stopped by for a quick chat.”

  “Okay. Chat away.” Bradley waited for him to talk about the attempt on his nephew’s life. He knew his replies had to be good to bullshit a bullshitter.

  “It’s about my nephew. The truth is, he’s a good kid, but after his father was killed three years ago . . . something just changed. He doesn’t seem to be as sharp as he once was. Personally, I believe that’s the reason he quit law to become a cop. Of course, I could never tell the kid what I think. It would break his heart.”

  Bradley was still waiting for him to talk about the attempt on Joe’s life. “So . . . how can I help you?”

  “We’re both worldly men, Mr. Bedford. My nephew is not. He’s still young and naïve enough to believe in truth and justice. And he’s stubborn, too. The onl
y people he ever listens to, other than his father, god rest his soul, is his mother and myself.”

  Bradley said, “I still don’t understand what this has to do with me.”

  “My nephew tells me you offered Mr. Carson a substantial sum of money, as well as paying off Detective McCoy.”

  Bradley’s heart began to pound. He wondered if his office was bugged. He tried to think if anyone had worked over the weekend. Maybe that’s when they got in and bugged the place.

  Timothy said, “You look nervous. Don’t be. I’m not here in an official capacity.”

  “Oh?”

  “No. I’m actually working in a fundraising capacity at the moment.”

  “I see.” Bradley knew it was a set-up now, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. “I’d be happy to help. Just see my secretary on the way out and she’ll cut you a check.”

  “I was hoping for cash.”

  Bradley’s palms began to sweat. He wondered where the microphone was. Under the desk? In his intercom? Maybe the congressman had it on him. “Sorry, Congressman . . . Timothy . . . I don’t keep any cash in the office.”

  “I’ll just take the package you had in the trunk of your car. The one for Mr. Carson.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. But I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  Timothy just smiled, showing his big white teeth.

  Bradley stood. “It was very nice meeting you though.”

  Timothy kept his perfect smile while standing. He shook Bradley’s hand and said, “If you want to play hardball Mr. Bedford, be advised that I am not new to the game.”

  Bradley stood and watched the congressman as he turned around and opened the door.

  Before leaving, Timothy turned back to Bradley and said, “By the way, I will be heading the new congressional committee on pharmaceutical manufacturing standards outside the United Sates. It’s a shame we couldn’t be friends.” Timothy walked out the door.

  Bradley wondered if the congressman was bluffing. Were they really forming such a committee? Was this really a set-up or just another greedy politician on the take? He knew that this man could get Joe Martello to leave things alone, and more importantly, he could make things go very smoothly for Yates Pharmaceuticals in Asia.