“I was twelve. I always thought my father was a foreman at a construction company even though, looking back, I realized he was never actually on a jobsite. He never had any tools, and he never came home dirty or anything. This particular Sunday, we were driving in his brand new red Cadillac Deville. I loved that car, and my father was so proud of it. He kept it immaculately clean. Suddenly, this old shit-box pickup truck with two guys in the cab pulled up ahead of us, and the driver started slamming on his brakes. I thought they were real jerks, maybe some kids messing around. My father was furious, and I remember him saying he couldn’t believe they would do this with his kid in the car. Then they tossed their soda bottles out of their windows, and one made contact with the windshield and a crack spread across it. I could tell my father wanted to speed up and take care of this right then, but he looked over at me, patted my leg and said we’d head home. I remember memorizing the license plate in case my father wanted me to go with him to the police department to report the damage to his car. I thought I’d be such a hero when the detective would come over and I would say TS-1874. But I never had that chance. My father drove straight home, bypassing the ice cream shop, and told me to head into the house and tell my mother he’d be late.” Christian cleared his throat, and Bobby could tell the story wasn’t coming to a happy ending.
“The next morning I sat eating my cereal and watching the news with my mother. I heard a story come on that immediately got my attention. The reporter was standing in front of a burned out pickup truck surrounded by yellow police tape. Over his shoulder I could make out most of the license plate, and I felt myself getting lightheaded as I realized it was the truck that had harassed us the day before. The report stated that the two men in the truck had been shot in the head before someone torched the vehicle with a Molotov cocktail. I didn’t want to believe that my father had anything to do with it. I convinced myself whoever was in the truck must have continued vandalizing vehicles and had crossed paths with the wrong person. It wasn’t until I was on my way down our driveway to catch the bus and saw my father pulling in that I realized he was the wrong person they had crossed. He rolled down his window, and with a big smile on his face, told me how sorry he was we missed our ice cream cone the day before.
When I leaned in his window for a hug goodbye I saw his hand wrapped in white bandages, and the smell of gasoline stung my nose. When he saw me staring at his bandage he said not to worry he had burned his hand on the exhaust pipe of an excavator at work. That was the last time I hugged my father. For the next couple of years I watched everything he did. I had my antenna up and put together the puzzle that was my father, each piece revealing a more complex and immoral man. Then, as I got older, he pulled me into his life and made me a part of his world. After years of feeling so distant from him, I’d do almost anything to be close to him again. I know most of what I do looks like a choice, but you’d be amazed how quickly you can fall down the rabbit’s hole and not know how to get yourself back out. I’ve tried everything to legitimize my family’s business, but every time I get us out of one deal we get pulled into something else. I know it doesn’t mean much to you, but I don’t mess with the sex trafficking and prostitutes, I’ve stayed out of all the drug deals inside Edenville, and I was on the verge of ending our gunrunning. We dropped a shipment a few months ago, and it was the last one. We’re still pretty deep in the gambling ring, and I know that’s no more legal than anything else I mentioned, but I’d like to think it’s a victimless crime.” Christian wasn’t sure why he was pouring his heart out to this kid. He had said more in the last five minutes to this practical stranger than he had said in the last year to people in his immediate circle.
“You aren’t your father—you’ve got a great shot of putting all this behind you and sparing your son the things you went through. You’re doing the right thing tonight.” If there were any doubts swimming around in Christian’s mind, Bobby was trying to proactively squash them. “This is the place. Michael asked me to come to his office first so he could talk with me privately about something, and then have you join us, but I’m thinking we should stick together,” Bobby said, putting his truck in park outside Michael’s office building.
“Let’s get this over with.” Christian swung open his door and huffed loudly, obviously dreading this moment even as he knew it was his best shot at a new life.
They entered through the back door of the office building Michael had suggested and boarded the staff elevator. It was a quick but quiet ride up to the ninth floor and as the elevator door split open Michael came into view.
“Are you kidding me!” Christian exclaimed, his eyes large and his face immediately turning red. He knew this was all too good to be true, deals like this never worked out. He reached his hand to his side where he would normally keep his gun and clenched his fist when he realized he no longer had his weapon. His only hope was there wasn’t an army of the judge’s men waiting just around the corner to torture or kill him. “This is the lawyer we’re meeting with? You’re dumber than I thought kid. He’s on the judge’s payroll, and I’m getting the hell out of here. The deal’s off.”
Bobby heard the words, but they didn’t compute in his head quickly enough for him to even make an attempt at correcting Christian or to stop him from repeatedly hitting the close-door button on the elevator. Luckily, Michael had his wits about him and put his arm across the closing door, and it popped back open.
“Give me a chance to explain,” Michael said hurriedly, imploring Bobby to step off the elevator and into his office so they could talk. If Michael was trying to calm Bobby with his demeanor he was doing a terrible job considering his forehead was covered with sweat and he was almost breathless. “This is why I wanted to meet with you first. This is what I wanted to tell you on the phone earlier.”
“You wanted to tell me that you’re on the judge’s payroll?” Bobby asked incredulously, his brow furrowed and his stomach turning in knots. He had prepared himself to be surprised by how deep this conspiracy would run, but he never assumed how close to home it would hit.
“No. Well, not exactly, it’s a long story, but if you don’t get off the elevator I’m not going to be able to tell you any of it.” Michael said, gesturing for him to step through the doors and give him the opportunity to explain.
Christian crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Bobby, refusing to address Michael. “I’m not getting off this elevator. If you want to chitchat with your buddy here, you can get off and let me go or he can get on and start talking.” With that, Michael acquiesced and joined them on the elevator. “Listen Bobby, it’s not what you think. Not everything is black and white, good guys and bad guys. If you hear my side of the story I know you’ll understand.”
“I can’t believe I let you get close to Jules,” Bobby yelled, his fists clenched and ready to strike his betrayer. “How could you screw all of us like this? What exactly have you been doing, losing cases on purpose or something?”
“Yes,” chimed in Christian, “that’s exactly what he did. It was with one of Duke Cheval’s guys who caught a case for possession with the intent to distribute. Your buddy here sandbagged the case on purpose.” Christian’s voice was angry, and his finger was pointing accusingly at Michael.
“That isn’t true, how about you tell the whole story, Christian?” Michael sighed somewhat dejectedly, and launched into his explanation. “Some people approached me about making some evidence in the case disappear, and I told them to go to hell. They came back and threatened me, so I threatened them right back, letting them know they didn’t scare me. I told them I intended to have them charged with tampering and intimidation. A week later I got a package in the mail loaded with pictures of my baby sister who was away at college. There were photos of her in class, out in the campus courtyard, and sitting in the local coffee house. Then finally there was a picture of one of Cheval’s guys talking to her in front of her dorm. A note read, ‘You might not be afraid but you can bet she will be.
’ I had my sister leave school immediately and sent her to stay with our uncle. I tried the case and brought forth all evidence I had available. I still lost, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying, I can promise you that.” Michael choked out, his voice catching as he stared hard at Bobby. “I could have brought the evidence to the judge but, just like you, I had no idea who I could trust. I did my job without hesitation, and my conscience is clean. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that I’d been approached by these idiots. I was trying to put it all behind me. The moment I heard you and Piper had a plausible plan to do something about it, I got on board.”
Bobby turned from Michael to Christian who was now noticeably silent and staring at the floor of the stopped elevator. “I don’t know the details,” he mumbled, sounding much less confident than he had moments earlier. “I remember hearing chatter that he wasn’t really playing ball and that they were going to pay a visit to someone in his family. When I heard the guy got off, I just assumed their threats had worked and Michael had thrown the case.”
“You know what they say about assuming,” Michael barked. “Only assholes do it.”
“I’m pretty sure that isn’t the saying,” Christian replied, shooting a dirty look back at Michael.
Bobby waved his hands, cutting through their childish attacks. “You should have told me,” he said, his mind bouncing between anger and pity. Michael was right, he’d have certainly done the same thing if he thought Jules, Betty, or Piper was in imminent danger. Look at how many concessions he had already made since starting out on this. It wasn’t like Michael had lost the case intentionally or destroyed important evidence. Should he have blown the whistle? Maybe, but as Bobby was starting to find out not everything was quite so cut and dry.
“Judge Rosenthal is going to be here any minute.” Michael said impatiently. “She’s probably down there right now wondering what the hell is wrong with the elevator. We’ve got one shot at this, and if she thinks for a minute we aren’t all calibrated then she’ll pull the plug. You won’t get your protection and relocation,” Michael said pointing at Christian, “and you, Bobby, won’t get your justice.”
Bobby turned to Christian and tried to put this whole thing in perspective. “You remember earlier tonight when you told me you wanted your brother to be included in your relocation? It goes against everything I believe, but I am going out on a limb, because I trust you’ll get him help. You know him better than I do, and if you really believe you can help him then I have to default to you in order to make the rest of this work. I’m asking you to do the same. I know Michael, and I believe him. Without him we can’t pull this off.”
Christian didn’t speak. He only nodded and rolled his eyes. Michael released the stop button on the elevator and they all stepped out as the door opened back up.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Judge Rosenthal, I can’t thank you enough for coming out this time of night. I know it’s a little unorthodox, but I can assure you it will be worth your while,” Michael said in his work voice, which was a bit softer and more polished.
“Mr. Cooper, until I came in and saw Mr. Donavan sitting there I was prepared to give you quite the tongue-lashing regarding after hours calls to a judge. Now I must admit I am a little intrigued,” Judge Rosenthal said. She was a tiny woman with frail hands and wispy brittle hair. Her pointed nose nearly took up half her face and her thin lips seemed to be permanently pursed. She appeared meek, but as Michael had seen firsthand in the courtroom, one should never mistake her stature as a weakness. There was nothing weak about Judge Rosenthal.
“I’ve always known you to be a highly ethical and unbiased judicator. I’ve enjoyed every opportunity I’ve had to try a case in your court.” As Michael attempted to continue, the tiny judge cut in.
“Don’t let me give you the wrong idea, Mr. Cooper, just because I am intrigued doesn’t mean I want to sit here all night while you blow smoke up my ass. I still have hopes of getting to bed at a decent hour, so get to it.”
“Mr. Donavan has long been aware of judicial misconduct by Judge Lions.” Michael cleared his throat and continued, “He has been privy to and part of multiple counts of bribery, extortion, and intimidation all spearheaded or supported by Judge Lions. He has ample evidence of this and is here tonight to give a sworn statement regarding his information,” Michael explained curtly, knowing that Judge Rosenthal was not in the mood for fluff.
Judge Rosenthal looked wary. “And I suppose he’s doing this because of a sudden spell of conscience? Or should I assume that he is looking for full immunity and most likely some kind of witness protection?” The judge pushed her glasses up tighter to her face from the bridge of her nose. She had done her job long enough to realize nothing this size came without costs.
Michael knew this was a game of chess and he was playing against an expert. “Mr. Donavan feels when he provides this information he will be at great risk as will his brother and son. In return for his testimony he would like—” The judge huffed loudly and cut in.
“Michael, for goodness sake, it’s late and this isn’t court, can we please cut the bull? How serious is this? I’ve had my concerns about Judge Lions for a long time, and I’ve been waiting for the right opportunity to end the ridiculous circus he considers a courtroom. Are you telling me this is it? Is this credible?” Judge Rosenthal pursed her lips together. She would have gladly driven Christian to the airport herself if it meant removing a corrupt judge from his seat.
“Judge Rosenthal,” Christian said quietly, “it’s more than all the legal stuff that brings me here today. I’ve known about his deals for years. I’ve given him buckets of money in return for favors.” Christian reached into his breast pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I found these in his home,” he said, sliding the pictures across the table to her. “I’ve been a part of some pretty heinous things in my life, but I won’t spend another minute dealing with a man capable of that.”
Judge Rosenthal pulled open the envelope and, in her composed fashion, thumbed through the pictures of Judge Lions and his victims. She didn’t gasp, or even wince, because, unfortunately, she had seen her share of these kinds of things.
“Mr. Donavan, I despised your father. He was a brutal man with no moral compass. I’ve had numerous people cross my path who were damaged by him in so many ways.” The three men all sat stone-faced, unsure what correlation she was trying to draw. “But I adored you. I saw you often around town, and you have the sweetest spirit and kindest eyes. I would often pray for you, that you might have a chance to forge your own path and not fall prey to the legacy of your father. As time went on I saw you being sucked into his world. I thought perhaps when your own son was born or when your father died you would take those as opportunities to change your ways. I want you to know that what you are doing here tonight separates you from your father. There would have been no pictures awful enough, no crime vile enough, for your father to put aside a mutually beneficial relationship and do the right thing.” Judge Rosenthal reached her hand across the table and patted Christian’s arm. “Michael,” she asked, getting back to business, “what are you proposing we do next?”
“I’d like for Christian to document everything he can and compile the evidence against Judge Lions. Then he writes up his statement and coordinates with a witness protection team to get him out of here first thing in the morning. Judge Lions is currently indisposed at a designated location where he can be picked up anytime a warrant is issued.” Michael could feel the wheels spinning in his mind. There would be so many steps once this was put into motion.
“Your Honor,” Bobby said quietly, “there is a police officer who has been a right-hand man to Judge Lions for years. He conspired to, or possibly did, kill an Edenville police officer ten years ago.”
“Stan?” Judge Rosenthal questioned. This time, there was unmistakable emotion in the judge’s voice. Bobby nodded his head, and she continued, “I knew Stan well, we went to school together. Do you have any proof that
they were involved in his murder?” The Judge sat up a little straighter in her chair.
“I don’t, and I’m not sure we ever will. I thought it was important for you to know when we go through this process. Christian can give you enough evidence and important information to implicate Officer Rylie in plenty and ensure he spends the rest of his life in jail. I just wanted someone else to know, even if we couldn’t do anything about it now.
Bobby knew it wasn’t of any legal significance to a judge to know about crimes someone may have committed if there was no proof, but he came here to say his piece, and he wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass by.
“I’m glad you told me. If we can’t find the evidence to incriminate them for the murder, we’ll make sure they never see the light of day again. It might not be exactly what you were hoping for, but it’s certainly better than what they have right now.” Judge Rosenthal’s smile was warm. It was amazing how quickly she could transition from the stern, disciplined judge to a warm and comforting maternal figure.
“There is one more thing, Your Honor,” Michael said clearing his throat nervously. “Bobby was an essential part of bringing all this together. Without him we never would have been able to pull it off.” Michael paused, surprised by the look of annoyance spreading across the judge’s face.
“I can assure you, Michael, you’ll all get your time in the spotlight. I’m sure they can get someone very famous to play you in the movie version of this epic adventure you’ve been on.” The judge rolled her eyes, never surprised by the size of men’s egos.
“You’re misunderstanding me. No matter how many of the people we put in jail, there’ll always be someone seeking retribution for what we are about to do. Bobby has lived here his whole life. He has people he loves dearly who would be in jeopardy if his name was in any way associated with this. He’s not looking for notoriety. On the contrary, I’m asking for anonymity for him. I know we’re not in the business of removing people’s names completely from something like this, but I was hoping, considering the circumstances, you would make an exception. Allow Christian to write his statement without mentioning his interactions with Bobby.” Michael wasn’t speaking now as a lawyer, his shoulders weren’t back, his chin wasn’t up and his eyes were notably avoiding everyone in the room. Michael had turned off his confident boisterous persona and was now only asking a favor for his friend.
Chasing Justice Page 22
