Power and Justice

by Peter O'Mahoney

  She had to do more than that.

  She had to make him pay for what he did—the way he rejected her.

  And if Sulzberger beat the charges, then she wouldn’t be able to stop him. He’d keep doing what he always did—using people, using the system. His lawyer looked confident, and it filled her with a sense of dread.

  Her life relied upon her being seen as an upholding citizen. A person that had it all together. Her reputation had to come first. She needed to be seen as someone with all the answers.

  That was why she had to finish off Sulzberger.

  He was the crack in her armor. He was the reason she could no longer sleep at night.

  She had to finish him.

  She looked at the gun, cleaned and ready, sitting on the kitchen bench. The room was dark, lit only by the city lights pouring through the open curtains. She preferred it that way. Despite all the furnishings, despite all the goods in her apartment, it felt cold and empty. Lonely.

  Love hadn’t been in this room for years.

  She’d polished the gun last night, and she took great joy in making sure it was perfect. Not a spot on it.

  Having the gun in her hand brought back so many feelings.

  So many thoughts.

  Her messed-up childhood. Her mistakes. All of her bad decisions.

  That childhood, laced with pain and fear, had haunted her for so long—always in the back of her mind. Always there, always present. She had never been able to shake it.

  Someone had to pay. Someone had to be taken out. It had to be him.

  He was so much like the men from her childhood. So much like the men that caused her pain. Killing him would be the answer that she had looked for. Better than any therapy, better than any drugs.

  He probably knew it was her. She almost expected the door to swing open and the police to charge in. There was a chance that he already knew her secret. There was a chance that he could point the finger.

  She couldn’t let him do that.

  This was her only chance.

  This time, she wouldn’t back away. She wouldn’t run in fear.

  This time, she would finish the job.

  Chapter 37

  Both men stared at the floor, bonding in a moment of quiet reflection. In the absence of words, they let their emotions hide behind a wall of muscle.

  The apartment stunk of testosterone. Hunter sat on the edge of the bed, Sulzberger on the couch next to it, both men tapping their feet with nervous energy. The place looked like it belonged to college students—clothes hanging over the furniture, beer cans piled up next to the trash, empty takeaway boxes next to the sink. The room was narrow and dark, creating a sense that the walls were going to close in on them at any second.

  When the knock on the door echoed through the room, Hunter leaped to his feet and opened the door.

  Ray Jones walked in without a word.

  “It didn’t go well today in court?” Jones shut the door behind him.

  “It could’ve gone better,” Hunter said. “A lot better.”

  “I’ll give you the good news first then,” Jones stated. “We can rule the wife out of the murder.”

  “Kim? You’ve ruled her out?” Sulzberger was surprised. “That’s great news.”

  “Her story that she was out of town on a hike checks out. I finally managed to talk to the ranger of the preserve. He’d been on a three-month vacation in Peru, and I couldn’t get hold of him until recently. He said that he clearly remembered Kim because she seemed so underprepared for an overnight walk. He took down all her details, including the car registration, and said that she had to be back within two days or he would send a search party out for her. He described her perfectly, so she now has an alibi.”

  “Could be a setup?” Hunter responded.

  “So why wouldn’t she have mentioned him before?” Jones sat down on the black couch, leaning backward with a relaxation that escaped the other men. “It’s a stretch to suggest that she set this up and then forgot about it when you pressed her for an alibi. If it were a setup, it would’ve been the first thing she said. She would’ve been prepared to answer the questions.”

  “It’s a stretch, but it’s not impossible.”

  “I don’t buy into that,” Jones stated firmly. “What’s the big revelation that you wanted to talk about?”

  “We found X.”

  “You did?” Jones clapped his hands, a smile on his face. “Well, that’s it then! Case over. Get her on the stand and then we’ll have enough doubt to clean this thing up.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s not that easy.”

  “Why not? You know the killer, and you have the skills to nail her. I’ve never seen a better interrogator than you. I’m surprised the CIA haven’t come knocking, asking you to question their targets.”

  “X is the woman standing opposite me in court.”

  “What do you mean? Michelle Law? Your old-school buddy?” Jones leaned backwards, his hands rising in the air.

  “The very one.”

  “Aw, man. How do you even attempt to get a prosecutor on the stand?”

  “We can’t,” Hunter stated.

  “What’s your play then?”

  “She claimed she didn’t know Robert and stated that directly to the judge. If we can find one piece of evidence, one piece at all, that links them together, then we can get her off the case and onto the stand in a different trial.”

  “You’d destroy her career,” Jones stated.

  “She’s a cold-blooded killer.” Sulzberger went to the fridge to look for more beer. “There’s a chance my daughter is going to grow up without a father because of her. Her career is the last thing you should be worried about.”

  “We don’t know she’s a killer yet. So many people—” Hunter turned to look at Robert. “Sorry, Robert, but so many people hated you. Just because you were having an affair doesn’t mean that she’s a killer. I look at her, and I don’t see a killer. I see a woman that’s falling apart, maybe an alcoholic, but I don’t see a killer. I thought X was your answer, but I don’t think Michelle Law is your answer.” Hunter stepped closer to Sulzberger and pushed the fridge door shut before the man could reach for a beer. “If we can delay the case because of her conflict of interest, then we’re a step closer to winning.”

  Sulzberger nodded and turned away from the fridge.

  “That’s complex.” Jones stood up. “So, Tex, what do you need me to do?”

  “Ray, I need you to work your magic.”

  Chapter 38

  He would pay.

  She was sure of that.

  She had never felt more betrayed, more hurt after what he did to her. He had her heart in his hands, her future, and he unremorsefully squashed it.

  She’d lose everything because of what he did to her.

  Everything that she fought so hard to build. Everything that she’d pushed for.

  She had been scoping out the apartment from the street for an hour, waiting patiently in a café with a baseball cap on. The café was quiet, the six round tables only sparsely filled, and the staff behind the long counter were more interested in checking their phones than watching their customers.

  In her handbag, under her arm, was her balaclava, and underneath that, her gun. The one that would solve all her problems.

  Revenge had always been her greatest weakness.

  She wouldn’t let this chance slip by her.

  She would have her revenge.

  As two tall men exited the apartment building, she put her head down, the cap covering her face. She pretended to read an article on her phone as they walked past the café window without saying a word to each other. The solemn look on their faces was what she expected.

  They were men of action, not big talkers. She was surprised one of them was a lawyer, but that’s what happens when you grow up with serial killer parents.

  After they had left the building, she crossed the road, and followed another resident to the secure entrance, s
lipping in behind them. She walked straight to the stairs and began her walk up to her fate.

  This was her chance. Her time for revenge.

  If she could do it with a knife, she would. It’d be quieter that way. Perhaps even more enjoyable.

  If it had to be the gun, then that was what she’d do.

  She was confident that she could outmuscle him, take him down.

  She knew she could do it.

  Quickly in and quickly out. That’d been her plan for the past two days now.

  He had to pay.

  She had to get her revenge.

  Chapter 39

  Hunter and Jones walked out of the apartment building in silence, past the residents entering the doors, past the travelers mingling on the sidewalk, and past the café across the street.

  There wasn’t much left to say between them. They had come together, investigated, and faced a trial, but they were staring at defeat when the answers were so close. The disappointment was written on their faces.

  “What did you find in Bronzeville?” Hunter asked as they crossed the road.

  “A lead, but nothing certain. I’ve got my best girl on it; she’s asking around the area. We’ll know in the next twenty-four hours.”

  “I really need that magic, Ray. I really need something.”

  Jones nodded, not responding.

  When they reached the car, he stopped and looked back at the apartment building, almost shrouded under darkness. “They have to be connected somehow. X and Robert—there must be something that links them. Something, somewhere.”

  “That’s why I need your magic,” Hunter stated. “I’ve thought about it so much, and I’ve come up with nothing. Even if we could match the location data on Michelle’s mobile phone with Robert’s, it still doesn’t prove anything. It only proves that she was in the same place at the same time, perhaps coincidentally. She could even argue that Robert was stalking her, and she knew nothing of it. We’ve got nothing on her.”

  “It would prove there’s at least some doubt to her story that she doesn’t know him.”

  “But it doesn’t prove that she was involved in the murder of Jane Doe either. It wouldn’t prove anything, and any judge in Chicago will laugh at that evidence. All we have are a few social media posts about how she likes his work as a celebrity and politician.”

  “Maybe you could request the judge to release her mobile phone data? Track her movements via her data on the night of Jane Doe’s death?”

  Hunter began laughing. “Good luck with that. Could you imagine trying to get a prosecutor’s location data on the back of a hunch? She’s good friends with every judge in town. We wouldn’t even make it in the door before they would kick us back out.”

  “True.” Jones smiled. “There are two kinds of lawyers—those who know the law, and those who know the judge.”

  “Just as well I know the law then. I was thinking more along the lines of DNA evidence. It wouldn’t be admissible in court, but it could give us leverage. Do you think you could get a DNA sample from Michelle?”

  “Easy enough.” Jones shrugged. “I should have it by the morning—perhaps a drink bottle or a strand of hair. Should be very easy to get some DNA from Michelle.”

  “We’ll work on that. Let’s get her DNA. I want you to focus on that.” Hunter checked his coat for his car keys. He patted down his pockets, then his trousers, and then he opened his briefcase, searching for them. “Ah.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I’ve let my keys on the bench in Robert’s apartment.”

  “Just call him. Get him to bring them back down.”

  “No, I’ll head back up. I don’t want Robert walking around out here, gathering attention. It wouldn’t be a good look at this time of night, and I’m sure there’ll be some media vans around here waiting to set us up.”

  Jones nodded, leaning against the car. “Don’t leave me too long out here. You never know what could happen with those media types.”

  “That’s right.” Hunter turned and began to walk back towards the apartment building. “In a case like this, you never know who is hiding what.”

  Chapter 40

  She was at the door of the apartment.

  It was close to the fire exit. In a quick sprint down the hall, it was four seconds away, maybe five. Perfect. Once she was in the room, there would be no talking, no explanations. She would do what she needed to do and then make the quick move towards the fire exit. If there were no fuss, she’d walk quietly with her head down. It’d be at least twelve hours before anyone found his body. She’d have her story straight then. One, maybe two, alibis.

  She was good at propping doors open, not that the apartment door was hard. Her years of training had never left her. That was why she was so comfortable killing to get what she wanted.

  She’d done it before. She was trained to do it.

  With a simple twist, a turn of her credit card in the gap next to the doorknob, and a light shove of the door, it was pried open.

  She was in.

  Stepping into the dimly lit apartment, she heard the shower running in the room at the end of the suite.

  That’d make it easier. Cleaner.

  He’d be naked and defenseless.

  She liked that.

  Taking his life when he was naked. Leaving him there to die slowly in all his vulnerability, stripped bare before her. The way he started life would be the way he ended it.

  She wasn’t nervous—only filled with the sense of satisfaction that came with knowing her revenge was moments away. All her troubles were in the shower.

  Leaving the door slightly ajar for a quick exit, she walked towards the back of the room, hand gripping the knife tightly.

  She’d reclaim her life now.

  This would be the second phase of her life, the time to start again. She could come back, try to rebuild her career. No one would ever know what she had done. They couldn’t.

  There was a knock on the apartment door.

  It was loud. Heavy.

  She froze.

  Room service, maybe.

  She waited to hear if the water in the shower stopped.

  It kept running.

  She reached for her gun.

  Placed the knife back in her bag.

  Another knock. Louder this time.

  The door was open.

  She was exposed.

  Vulnerable.

  And there was nowhere to hide.

  Chapter 41

  Tex Hunter knocked on the door again.

  No answer.

  “What could he possibly be doing?” he moaned to himself. “Robert?” he called. “I need my car keys. I left them on the bench.”

  He stepped back, checking the number on the apartment door, making sure he’d gotten the right one, but then he noticed it was slightly ajar. It was definitely the right room.

  “Robert?” He leaned forward, pushing on the door. “Robert? Can you hear me? I need my keys.”

  He stepped forward, leaning into the apartment. Hearing the water running in the shower, he sighed and pushed the door open further.

  He walked inside, looking for the light switch.

  That was when the shadow hit him.

  From behind, right at the base of the skull.

  He fell towards the door.

  In the dark, he saw the shadow reaching for the door.

  Dazed, he lunged at the shadow.

  Grabbed it.

  The shadow swung. A gun was suddenly in his face.

  He let go, and on instinct, flung his left hand towards the weapon, knocking it away.

  It fell.

  The shadow, dressed in black, face covered in a balaclava, kicked him between the legs.

  He buckled, but then lunged again. Attacked. The shadow’s hand caught on the doorframe, ripping what sounded like a shirt sleeve.

  Hunter stretched, pushed the hand, but the shadow was nimble.

  The shadow let out a yelp, clearly feminine.
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  She kicked again. Connected between his legs again. He was stunned.

  The shadow was quick. Before he knew it, she was heading towards the fire escape.

  Hearing the commotion, Sulzberger stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around him. “Tex?”

  Without a word, Hunter stood and looked down the corridor.

  Gone.

  “There was someone here.” He looked back to Sulzberger, then at the weapon lying on the floor. “They had a gun.”

  “What?”

  Hunter got out his phone. “Ray, get to the fire exit. Stop whoever comes out of it.”

  “On it,” Jones said.

  Hunter hung up. “I don’t know who it was.” He looked back at Sulzberger, then at the doorframe. “But that’s going to help.”

  He pointed to the doorframe that had caught the edge of the woman’s arm.

  The fabric from her sleeve was left on the edge of the frame.

  And so was her blood.

  Chapter 42

  After a night of talking to the police, no amount of coffee was going to fill Hunter’s need for relief. He hadn’t had more than a few hours’ sleep in days. The hours that he slept in his office that morning wasn’t even deep sleep.

  Not that he needed it that much.

  Adrenaline was coursing through his veins as he walked back into the courtroom.

  Last night, Jones was too late to get to the fire escape door, but he saw the shadow race across the street, leaving the door open. He tried to chase her, but his heavy frame wasn’t designed for sprinting more than a few hundred yards.

  The shadow was as nimble as it was determined.

  Hunter took a DNA swab from the doorframe, bagging some of it up before the police arrived to do the same. They viewed the security footage and asked for witnesses, but they got nothing.

  Tex Hunter walked into the courtroom, Sulzberger behind him, and Esther trailing them. When she’d heard the news about X’s identity, Esther insisted that she come to the courtroom and help with Sulzberger’s case, even with a headache that had lasted days.