by Phil Nova
While pacing around in his office, Bradley considered making the deal. If it was a set-up, he’d go to jail. But then again, if he was somehow convicted of bribing McCoy, he’d also go to jail. Either way, the company would probably have him killed to silence him.
Bradley powered off his computer and grabbed his coat and hat. He was ready to go have a nice dinner, fuck his Russian mistress, and forget about things for a while.
On his way down the hall, Bradley tried not to think about Congressman Scott and his deal, but that’s all he could think about. He knew the congressman already had something on him, and had unlimited resources to investigate with. It was easy to picture himself in televised congressional hearings like Jimmy Hoffa.
Now that they were on to him, he had a feeling they would get him anyways, so he decided to make the deal and take his chances. If things went well, he’d have another congressman in his pocket, not just a congressman, but the head of the congressional committee on pharmaceutical manufacturing standards outside the United Sates. An invaluable ally.
Just as he approached the elevators, Bradley turned around and hurried back. He hoped it wasn’t too late.
He approached his secretary’s desk and said, “Lois. Tell security to stop the congressman. I need to speak with him again.”
She picked up the phone. “Yes. Hi, it’s Lois on twenty-two. Please tell Congressman Scott that Mr. Bedford needs to speak with him again.” She waited a second, then turned to Bradley and said, “He already went into the garage.”
“Well, call the garage and tell them to stop him. I need to talk to him. It’s important. I’ll meet him in front of the garage entrance.” Bradley hurried to the elevator and got in with a few other people.
Finally, at the lobby, Bradley exited the elevator and hurried to a door on the back wall. The security guard opened the door to let Bradley in.
He hurried down the concrete stairs and then made his way to the opposite side of the garage full of parked cars.
He was already out of breath. He stopped and looked at the concrete ramp that led up to the street. “Fuck.”
Just as he was ready to go up the ramp, he heard a horn beep at him.
When he turned around, he saw Timothy siting in a restored classic Corvette. Not what Bradley would have guessed the congressman drove.
Timothy pulled over into an empty spot and got out of his car. He approached Bradley and said, “You are in terrible shape. You really should join a gym.”
In between breaths, Bradley said, “Thanks.”
Timothy said, “You wanted to see me?”
“I changed my mind. I want to make a contribution.”
Timothy put back his trademark smile.
Bradley said, “It’s on the lower level.”
“You sure you can make it?”
“I’m fine.” Bradley headed back to the staircase and went down another floor while Timothy followed him.
Bradley approached his limo and tapped on the driver’s side window.
The window rolled down. The driver looked like he’d been sleeping. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know you were ready to go.”
“Never mind that. Just pop the truck and wait for me.”
“Yes, sir.” The driver leaned over and pressed a button that opened the trunk.
Bradley and Timothy went to the trunk of the car. Bradley pulled back a blanket and then opened a briefcase. Inside were stacks of brand new hundred dollar bills.
“You kept all this money here like this?”
“It was in the safe upstairs until this afternoon. I was supposed to try to pay off Mrs. Carson tonight, but now that you and I are friends, I’d appreciate it if you could smooth things over with Mrs. Carson, so I don’t have to deal with her.”
Timothy said, “I can see this being the start of a very happy friendship.”
Bradley closed the briefcase, then handed it to Timothy. There was no turning back now. He waited for FBI agents to pop out from the shadows, but no one did. He felt relieved when he closed the trunk. They sealed the deal.
Timothy said, “Not to sound ungrateful, but I hope I got more than McCoy, I am much more significant.”
“McCoy was only a one-time payment. For you and me, I see a prosperous future.”
Timothy flashed his perfect smile once again, then headed up the stairs.
Bradley got in the back of his limo and exhaled. Not only was he not in jail, but now he had Congressman Scott in his pocket. Things were looking up. He told his driver, “Give me five minutes to have a drink and then we’ll go.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Bradley poured a double shot of scotch on the rocks and sipped it slowly. The alcohol numbed his overworked nerves. He could feel his pulse decreasing as relaxation set in. He planned on going on a nice long vacation after the whole mess was over.
When the drink was finished, Bradley said, “Okay, let’s call it a night.”
The driver started the car and headed up the ramp.
The parking attendant waved at the driver as they drove up to the second ramp that led to the street above. Bradley took out his phone and texted his hot Russian mistress that he was on his way. He couldn’t wait to see her long sexy legs and natural big tits.
Outside, the sun was gone, replaced by streetlights. It was rush hour. People on the sidewalks were bustling to get to their cars, buses, and trains. Light snow flurries landed on the windshield as the driver waited for pedestrians to pass on the sidewalk.
When it was clear, the driver pulled out onto the street. As he made his way toward the intersection, three black Chevy Suburbans with tinted windows screeched to a stop, blocking Bradley’s limo in.
FBI agents with their guns drawn jumped out of the trucks and told Bradley to get out of the limo with his hands above his head.
CHAPTER 31
While taking off his clothes and jewelry and placing them into a plastic bin, Bradley continued hoping that this was a dream that he’d be waking up from very soon.
A gargantuan guard placed a lid onto the bin and pointed at a single file line of naked men. “Wait there.”
Bradley covered his shrunken penis and waddled over to the line of naked men, most of them black, but much younger than Bradley. He just hoped they didn’t notice his fresh manicure.
Over an hour passed before it was Bradley’s turn to shower with three other men. The water was ice cold. He tried to get in and out quick, but the guard was yelling for everyone to scrub up good.
After his shower, another guard gave Bradley a pair of green scrubs—pants and a top. Bradley put them on and didn’t feel much more clothed than he did just a moment earlier.
The guard pointed at another line of men, this time wearing the same green scrubs. “Wait there ‘til the doctor sees you.”
One hour passed before Bradley was near the front of the line. His feet were tired from standing so long and he had a chill that wouldn’t go away. He could feel it deep in his bones and he knew he was going to get sick after this.
Finally, it was his turn. His hopes of this being just a bad dream were crushed when he felt the sting of the doctor’s needle. They took a blood test and injected some liquid under the skin of his forearm for a TB test.
Bradley followed another guard to a giant concrete room with metal bars on two sides. There were two concrete benches, both of them were occupied, so Bradley stood in the middle of the room among at least thirty other men packed like sardines.
While standing for another two hours on his swollen feet, Bradley kept thinking about how stupid he was to get himself arrested. He had a feeling he could get out of it, but he wondered if Yates would stick by him or turn their backs on him.
The man next to Bradley slammed into him, knocking him down.
Bradley looked up.
Two men were pounding on another man. Everyone else was trying to get out of the way. Even though the third man was on the ground, the first two kept kicking him in the body and the
face.
Bradley stood, but stayed out of the way. He felt sick to his stomach when he saw two teeth floating in a puddle of blood.
CHAPTER 32
After breakfast, Richie sat in the day room with all the other criminals. He picked up a newspaper that one of the guards had left.
The front page showed Detective McCoy in handcuffs. The headline read, Bribery in the worst degree. Richie flipped to the story and read about Congressman Scott and Bradley Bedford. The article also said that Ko Sin Lu had molested a young Polish boy in Switzerland, but got away with it because of diplomatic immunity.
Richie felt relieved. Now the world would know the truth. He hoped this new information would help his case, but because he couldn’t afford a good lawyer, he wasn’t very optimistic.
He flipped to the back of the paper and tried to concentrate on the sports pages, but instead, he turned back to the article he’d just read, and he read it again.
A guard called, “Carson! Richie!”
Richie stood.
The guard said, “You have a visitor.”
Richie wasn’t expecting anyone.
CHAPTER 33
Joe sat down in front of the bulletproof glass divider, and when Richie sat down on the other side, they both picked up the phones on the wall. It felt good to be back on the outside, but he felt for Richie.
Richie said, “I saw your name in the paper. Thanks.”
“Thank my uncle. Without him, I’d probably be your next cellmate.”
“I heard you got fired.”
“My career as a cop wasn’t going anywhere anyway. I’m going back to practicing law.”
“Back to practicing law?”
“I went to law school after the core and worked for the prosecutor for two years.”
Richie said, “Do I have to ask? Why?”
“My father was a cop. He was murdered four years ago. I guess I thought I could do more to help stop crime as a cop than as a lawyer. But I guess the grass isn’t always as green as it looks. Thank god my uncle always told me to keep my law license up to date.”
“Did they find your father’s killer?”
“No. The case is still open, but nothing’s happening. Between me and you, I’m doing my own investigation.”
“I hope you find him.”
“I will. But first I’m going to work on your case.”
“You?”
“I’m better than a public defender. Don’t get me wrong, you will do some time, but I’m hoping, with some sympathy from the DA, to get the charges reduced to manslaughter in the second degree. And then my goal is to get you the minimum, which would be three years.”
Richie started to say something, “But I—”
Joe interrupted, “It’s my fault you’re here, and I’m gonna help you. At my expense.”
“It’s my own fault I’m here.”
It was nice of Richie to say that, but Joe still felt partly responsible.
CHAPTER 34
After three full days in jail, Bradley was happy to be getting out. Although a few people did extort some candy and commissary money from him, he was just thankful no one beat him up or raped him.
It was Friday morning and the first day of spring. Bradley felt optimistic about winning his case and securing his place in the company. He’d been in touch with David and David had assured him that everything would work out.
When Bradley stepped out onto the busy Manhattan sidewalk, he stopped for a moment and took a deep breath while basking in the warm sunlight. The mounds of filthy snow and ice were gone and the bustling streets and sidewalks were back to normal.
His limousine pulled up and double-parked. Bradley’s driver approached him on the sidewalk and said, “It’s good to see you, sir.”
Bradley shook his hand and said, “It’s good to see you, too.”
They stepped out into the street, where the driver helped Bradley into the back of the limo, then circled around and got in the driver’s seat.
Bradley enjoyed the feel of the leather seat under his ass. All those cold metal and concrete benches in jail had given him hemorrhoids.
He rolled down the divider as the limo pulled out into traffic. “I have a lunch meeting with Mr. Schultz.”
“Yes, sir. I have the address.”
“Let me know when we get there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bradley rolled up the divider, then poured himself a double shot of scotch on the rocks. He sipped it while watching the cars and people outside through his tinted windows. The alcohol warmed his blood and relaxed his mind.
They pulled over on a busy midtown street.
Bradley rolled down the divider.
The driver said, “This is the restaurant, sir. I’ll park in the garage down the block, just call me when you need me.”
Bradley got out of the car and saw Wayne on the sidewalk. He approached him and asked, “Where’s David?”
“David couldn’t make it. He said to tell you the meeting is cancelled.” Wayne turned around and began to stroll down the sidewalk with the crowd.
Bradley stood there in front of the restaurant, trying to figure out what was going on. He yelled, “Wayne! Wayne!”
Just as he was about to run after Wayne, he noticed a man on a cell phone, staring right at him. Bradley had a bad feeling. He turned around and began walking while dialing his driver on his cell phone. The phone went straight to voicemail. “Shit.”
Bradley turned and saw the man with the cell phone following him. He walked faster. He wanted to text his driver, but he couldn’t do it without stopping, so he kept moving.
While crossing the street, Bradley noticed the man with the phone behind him, standing on the corner, not moving, his eyes fixed on something.
When Bradley looked to see what the man was looking at, he noticed another man on a cell phone coming his way.
Everyone seemed to be talking on phones. Bradley wondered if he was just being paranoid. But why would Wayne just walk away like that? Why didn’t David call him if he had to cancel?
On the other side of the street, Bradley stopped and turned around. The man across the street was gone. Bradley exhaled. He began to text his driver.
Someone bumped into Bradley and said, “Hey! Watch it!”
When Bradley turned to look, he felt a stinging sensation on the back of his neck. It felt like a bee sting.
Bradley tried to finish his text message, but the words became blurry. He tried to walk, but his feet felt heavy. After a few seconds, he couldn’t even hold himself up anymore. He fell to the ground as consciousness faded away.
CHAPTER 35
After checking on his mother, Joe headed to the gym for an evening workout.
After a few warm up sets, then a few heavy sets on the bench press, Joe was pumped. His muscles swelled and his veins were bulging. The rock music that played over the speakers wasn’t too much, just hard enough to add to the pump.
A middle-aged man wearing a sweat suit, sat down on the incline bench next to Joe. He turned and said, “Impressive.”
Joe thought the man was hitting on him, but he wasn’t sure, so he wasn’t rude, he just nodded and said, “Thanks.”
The man pointed at the tattoo on Joe’s shoulder and said, “I see you were in the core.” Using his thumb, the man pointed at himself. “Twenty-fourth amphibious. But that was a long time ago. The name is Wayne Norman.”
Joe replied, “Joe Martello.”
They shook hands.
“I know who you are.”
“From the newspapers?”
“I’ve known about you for longer than that, Joe. Tell me something . . . was it Bedford that told you about Lu in Switzerland?”
Joe felt like crushing the man’s face with a 45lb. plate, marine or not. “I didn’t need any help. And I don’t need any help taking care of you.”
“I don’t doubt it. That’s why I’d like to hire you. I can use another good marine. My top level people are making seve
n figure salaries.”
Joe wondered if this was the man who tried to have him killed. There was no way to prove it, but he still wanted to make a point, so he pulled the weight off one side of the barbell and pushed the bar up, causing it to tip over. The weights on the other side slid off the bar and crashed onto the floor, one slamming on top of the next.
The floor rumbled. Everyone in the gym turned to look.
A big man, also wearing a sweat suit, dropped the dumbbell he was pretending to lift and ran over to protect Wayne Norman.
Wayne told his bodyguard, “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
The bodyguard looked at Joe as if he was ready to pounce.
When Joe raised his voice, the veins in his face and neck pulsated, “What? You want some, fat boy? Come on!”
Everyone in the gym was far from what was going on now, but still watching.
Wayne said, “No need for violence. We can all be civilized here.”
Joe said, “I’m gonna find out who you are, and if you try to fuck with me, I will rip you apart.” He pointed at the bodyguard and said, “That goes for you too, fat boy.”
CHAPTER 36
The next morning, while Michelle was still asleep in bed, Joe tiptoed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. The living room furniture was gone, the floor was covered with sheets of plywood, and the sheetrock walls were patched up and ready to be painted.
Joe retrieved the newspaper from outside, then proceeded through the living room and into the kitchen, which was unharmed.
After going to the backyard to pet and feed his dogs, Joe returned to the kitchen and sat down with a cup of coffee.
