Diehl, William - Show of Evil

by Unknown

  In a bruising trial presided over by the city's most conservative and bigoted judge, Harry Shoat - Hangin' Harry, as he was known in the profession - Vail and Venable had provided plenty of fireworks for the media. Then Vail had ambushed her. Stampler suffered from a split personality, a fact Vail had not introduced into evidence and had kept from the public. He had tricked Venable into bringing out Stampler's alter ego on the stand, and instead of the chair, Venable had had to settle for far less. Stampler was sent to the state mental institution 'until deemed cured' and she had left office a loser, at least in her own eyes.

  But the case had preyed heavily on Vail's mind. After winning his points in court, Vail had had second thoughts. The outcome had troubled him, and in an ironic twist, Vail, the state's deadliest defence lawyer, had replaced Venable as chief prosecutor. Even as a prosecutor he did not get along any better with Judge Shoat. They had continued to clash in the courtroom until Hangin' Harry had been appointed to the state supreme court.

  Forgiveness came hard for Venable, but she had held a grudge long enough. Vail had always attracted her, although it was years before she had admitted it to herself. Like her, he was a predator with an instinct for the jugular. In court, he was mercurial, changing moods and tactics on the whim of the moment, dazzling juries and confounding his opponents. And she was also drawn to his dark Irish good looks and those grey eyes that seemed to look right through her. Now he was not only the most dangerous prosecutor in the state, he was also the district attorney, and proper respect was being paid. Impetuously, she decided to end the feud.

  She moved resolutely through the crowd, charting a collision course with him but staying slightly behind him so that he would not see her. Then an arm protruded through the mass of people. Massive fingers locked on Vail's elbow, steering him towards the perimeter of the ballroom and a small anteroom.

  Shaughnessey, the old-timer who had carved a career from city councilman to DA to attorney general to state senator, losing only one political race in thirty years, was claiming Vail for the moment. Two years ago he had made his bid for the governor's seat only to be turned away in the primary. But it had not damaged his power.

  Shaughnessey was the state's high priest who with a nod could bring disaster down on the shoulders of anyone who challenged the political powers of the state house.

  Compared to him, most of the other state politicos were gandy dancers. The burly man, his bulk wrapped in a fifteen-hundred-dollar silk tuxedo with a trademark splash of coloured silk in its breast pocket, his fleshy face deeply tanned under a thick white mane, his thick lips curled almost contemptuously in what the unsuspecting might have mistaken for a smile, was obviously wooing the new DA.

  Her curiosity piqued, she decided to wait. Inside a small, barren room, Shaughnessey fixed his keen and deadly hooded eyes on Vail and smacked him on the arm.

  'How do you like being DA?' he asked.

  'I told you ten years ago, Roy, I don't want to be DA. I wanted to be chief prosecutor then and that's what I am now.'

  'Not any more, my friend. You are the acting DA, you need to start acting like one.'

  Vail had a sudden surge of deja vu. Ten years ago. A snowy afternoon in the backseat of Shaughnessey's limo, sipping thirty-year-old brandy. The moment it had all started.

  'You're the best lawyer in the state. Nobody wants to go up against you.'

  'Is this some kind of an offer?'

  'Let's just say it's part of your continuing education. You've got to slick up a little.'

  Vail laughed. 'You mean go legit?'

  'Exactly, go legit. Get a haircut, get your pants pressed, stop kickin' everybody's ass.'

  'Why bother? I'm having a good time.'

  'Because you want to move to the other side of town. You want what everybody wants, bow and scrape, tip their hat, call you mister and mean it. You don't want to cop pleas for gunsels the rest of your life. Yancey needs you, son. Venable's left him. He's lost all his gunslingers. His balls're hanging out. Hell, he never did have the stones for that job. He's a politician in a job that calls for an iceman. What he wants is to make judge - eight, nine years down the line - and live off the sleeve for the rest of his time. To do that, he needs to rebuild his reputation because you've been makin' him look like Little Orphan Annie. Twice in one year on headline cases - and you burned up his two best prosecutors to boot. Silverman's still in a coma from the Pinero case and Venable's on her way to Platinum City. He needs you, son.'

  'Is that why you dumped this Rushman case on me?'

  'Ah, you need a little humility, Martin. Besides, they want a monkey show out of that trial and you'll give it to them.'

  'So that's what it's all about, getting a good show and teaching me a little humility?'

  Shaughnessey just smiled.

  Now, ten years later, nothing seemed to have changed.

  'Now what the hell's that mean, I got to start acting like one?' Vail responded.

  'This thing between you and Eric - '

  'He's an incompetent ass-kisser.'

  'He's chief of police. You two got to work together - '

  'Listen, Roy, in my first nine months in office, I lost more cases than in the entire nine years I'd practised law. Know why? Eric Eckling.'

  'Just work with him instead of going out of your way to make him look like a schmuck.'

  'Eckling's cops reflect his own incompetence. They lose evidence, lie, fall apart on the witness stand, put together paper cases, violate civil rights…'

  'Maybe that's because you stole his best cop.'

  'I caught him on the way out the door. He couldn't stand Eckling, either. The only thing these guys are competent at is screwing up. We do our own investigating now. And we don't lose cases anymore.'

  'Why not practice a little discretion, would that hurt anything?'

  'What are you, Mr Fixit, the jolly negotiator?'

  'It doesn't help anybody - this friction.'

  'Hell, you're getting mellow in your old age. You used to tell, not ask.'

  'Everybody else I tell. You I ask. Hell, I'm just trying to keep a little peace in the family, yuh mind?'

  'Family! I'm not in any goddamn family. What is it, you been talking to Firestone?'

  'He bellyaches to a mutual friend, it works its way back to me, I get a call or two. You really pissed him off, you know. What'd you do, tell him to kiss your ass?'

  'No, I told him I wasn't there to kiss his.'

  'He's vice chairman of the city council, for Christ sake. Do you have to not get along with him? It's like you and Yancey used to be.'

  'Yancey and I get along fine. We have an understanding. The only time we have problems is when he forgets it.'

  'Firestone is very friendly with the police and firemen. And he's not a big booster of that kindergarten of yours.'

  'It's the senior high.'

  'Okay, okay… yeah, I'm just saying - '

  'You're just feeding me the same old line, Roy. Con Firestone into thinking I like him. Get along with Eckling. It's an open sore, the thing with Eckling. It's not gonna go away. Tell Firestone to butt out. It's none of his damn business. I don't work for the city, I represent the whole county.'

  'Christ,' Shaughnessey said, shaking his head. 'You still hustling around trying to put all the town's big shots in jail?'

  'Where'd you hear that?'

  'Come ooon,' Shaughnessey answered, peeling the wrapper off a cigar the size of the Goodyear blimp.

  'Maybe one of these days you'll be one of them. I warned you about that when you conned me into this job ten years ago.'

  'Not a chance,' Shaughnessey said, and laughed. 'I'm out of your league now. It would take the attorney general' - he leaned forward and said softly - 'and I put him in office, too. And he's a helluva lot more grateful than you are.'

  Venable was standing with her back to the anteroom door when Vail and Shaugnessey reappeared. She watched them shake hands, then Vail started back through the crowd, heading for t
he side entrance. She fell in behind him. When he stopped suddenly and turned to shake hands with someone, he saw her. Their eyes locked, green on grey, and this time neither of them broke the stare. Finally she thought, What the hell, and raised her champagne glass in a toast to him. He smiled and threaded his way through the crowd to her.

  'How are you doing, Janie?' he asked.

  'I think we're both doing just great,' she said, and offered him a sip of her champagne. He took it, signalled to one of the floating waiters, and got them two fresh glasses. They headed for a corner of the room, away from the crowd and the band.

  'I just read about your international coup.' Vail said. 'Congratulations.'

  'Thank you, Mr District Attorney.'

  'Don't jump the gun,' Vail said.

  'Oh, you've got the power now, Martin. Can't you tell?' She swept her arm around the crowd.

  'Tomorrow'll be just another day.'

  'No, it'll never be the same. You're the man they have to deal with now. And everybody knows you don't give two hoots in hell about playing politics.'

  'You're a very smart lady, Janie.' He took a step backward and stared at her for several moments. 'And more handsome now than you were ten years ago, if that's possible.'

  She caught her breath for just an instant but covered herself well.

  'Why, Martin,' she said, 'I didn't think you noticed.'

  'I'm not dead. I just overlooked it in the courtroom.'

  'You certainly did.'

  'Does this mean we're declaring a truce? Putting all that business behind us? Are we going to be civil to each other again?'

  'We were never civil to each other.' She laughed.

  'Well' - he shrugged - 'we could try.'

  Her green eyes narrowed slightly. Is he up to something? she wondered, not yet willing to trust this apparent truce.

  She's wondering what the hell I'm up to, he thought. And quickly moved to put her mind at ease. 'We'll probably never face each other in the courtroom again,' he said.

  'What a shame.'

  He knew exactly what she meant. Going at it before a jury one more time would be exciting. They played the staring game for a few moments longer, then she abruptly changed the subject.

  'What's the real prognosis?'

  Vail shrugged. 'You know doctors. He's got half a dozen specialists hovering over him and none of them'll give us a straight answer. One thing's for sure, he's got a tough road ahead of him.'

  'I always liked Jack,' she said, thinking back over a decade to the obsequious, smooth-talking grifter with wavy white hair and a perpetual smile. What wasn't there to like. Yancey was not a litigator and never had been. He was a talker not a fighter, the ultimate bureaucrat who surrounded himself with smart young lawyers to do the dirty work.

  'Yancey's the ultimate ass-kisser, but he's never made any bones about it,' said Vail.

  'Yes,' she agreed. 'He'd kiss anything to stay in grace.' Venable took a long sip of champagne. 'I only let him down twice, you know. You were the reason both times.'

  'Hell, that was a long time ago. Water under the dam as a friend of mine used to say.'

  'Shit, you were a monster, Martin. Hell, I guess you still are. You've been prosecutor what, ten years now?'

  He nodded. Ten years next month.'

  'Long time to wait. That was the promise, wasn't it? Jack would move up to judge and you'd step in.'

  'I was never promised anything except a free hand to run the prosecutor's office my way. Besides, promises aren't worth a damn in politics. You know how to tell when a politician's lying? His lips are moving.'

  She laughed a throaty laugh. 'Okay,' she said, 'you know what they'd call it if all the lawyers in this room were on the bottom of a lake?'

  'No, tell me.'

  'A good beginning,' she said, and laughed again. 'Well, if it did happen that way, it was brilliant of them. Taking you out of the game, putting you on their side. I'll bet Jack engineered that whole deal himself.'

  'Nope. He was just along for the ride.'

  'Who then? Not Shaughnessey!'

  'Shaughnessey made the pitch.'

  'You're kidding! Now there's a well-kept state secret.'

  'It wasn't any secret. Shaughnessey made the pitch and Jack slobbered all over him agreeing. Hell, you were leaving and he didn't have a good prosecutor left.'

  'Why'd you do it? You were making what? A million a year or more? You gave that up for a hundred and fifty thou?'

  Her remark reminded him again about the Stampler case and the others through the years - dope pushers and mobsters, thieves and rogues he'd saved from-the gallows. 'Money was never the consideration,' he said simply.

  'Then why? Just tired of dealing with the scum of society? You put a lot of bad boys back on the street in your day, Mr Vail. Bargain-basement justice.'

  'Justice? One thing I've learned after twenty years in the business: If you want justice, go to a whorehouse; if you want to get fucked go to court. I'm paraphrasing Thomas Jefferson.'

  'A very cynical attitude for an officer of the court.'

  'We're all cynics. It's the only way to survive.'

  'So what's next? Finish out Jack's term as DA, run for a term to see how good you look at the polls? Then governor?'

  'You sound like a campaign manager.'

  She looked at him and warmth crept into her green eyes. 'It's worth a thought,' she said quietly.

  He decided to take a stab at it. 'Why don't we have dinner tonight? Exchange secrets.'

  'You already know all my secrets, Marty,' she said rather dolefully, but quickly recovering. 'But not tonight. Give me a call. It's an interesting thought.'

  'If you change your mind, I'll be up the street at Avanti! eating dinner.'

  He started to leave, then walked back and stood close to her and said in her ear, 'All by myself.' He kissed her on the cheek and was gone.

  She turned back to the crowded room and the heat and noise and lawyers and calypso rhythm and her shoulders sagged.

  Ah, what the hell, she thought. Screw pride.

  Eight

  Handsome, debonair, the perfect host, and master of Avanti!, the best Italian kitchen in the state, Guido Signatelli had but one flaw: outrageously tacky taste. Plastic grapes and dusty Chianti bottles dangled from phony grape arbours that crisscrossed the ceiling, and the booths that lined the walls were shaped like giant wine barrels. But Guido and Avanti! had survived on the strength of personality, discretion, and dazzling cuisine. Located three blocks from City Hall, Guide's - the regulars never referred to the place by its name - had become the lunch-time county seat and the legal profession dominated the fake landscape. Guide's personal pecking order was as precise as a genealogical chart. Starting at the bottom were the lobbyists, their mouths dry and their palms damp as they sucked up to everybody. They were followed by young lawyers eager to be seen as they cruised the room, hoping for a handshake; then the assistant prosecutors, huddled over out-of-the-way tables and whispering strategy; and finally the kingmakers, the politicos who greased the wheels of the city from behind closed doors in what was jokingly called 'executive session' — to avoid the state's sunshine laws. Many a shady executive decision had been made in the quiet of one of Guide's booths. On the top were the judges, the emperors of justice, each with his or her own preordained table, each patronized by his or her own mewling sycophants and each pandered to by the rest of the room.

  Guido, a chunky, little man with a great mop of silver hair and a permanent smile, led Vail to the corner table. While still the state's most feared defence advocate, Vail had established the booth as his own. There he could eat, read, or talk business in relative seclusion. A few barflies hugged the long oak and marble bar and a half-dozen tables were occupied. Conversation was a low rumble.

  Vail ordered a glass of red wine and settled down to read what the Trib had to say about Yancey and the bodies in the city dump, both of which were prominently displayed on page one. He didn't see Jane Venable until
she appeared beside him at the table. He was genuinely surprised when he looked up and saw her and it was a moment before he reacted. He stood up, throwing the paper aside.

  'I don't know what I'm doing here. I must be crazy! I guess I'm as tired of that bunch of hucksters as you are and…'

  She was babbling to cover her embarrassment, obviously having second thoughts about following the man she had ignored - and who had ignored her - for a decade. Vail held a chair for her.

  'You don't have to apologize to me for anything,' he said quietly. 'Ever.'

  'I'm not apologizing, I'm…'

  'Glad to be here?' he suggested.

  She glared at him for a moment and then her consternation dissolved into a sheepish grin as she sat down opposite him.

  'It has been ten years,' she said sheepishly.

  'Well, we've been busy,' he said casually. 'What are you drinking?'

  'I'll have a glass of champagne. If I switch to something else, I'll end up on my nose.'

  'Eddie,' Vail called to a nearby waiter. 'Champagne for the lady and I'll have the same. Why don't you just bring us a bottle? Taittinger '73 would be nice.'

  They sat without speaking for half a minute, then both started speaking at the same time and then stopped and laughed.

  'Hell, Janie, it's time we started acting like grown-ups.

  'Why not? You've been divorced for what, two years? I'm free as a bird.'

  She seemed surprised that he knew anything about her personal life. 'Been keeping track of me, have you, Lawyer Vail?' she asked.

  He did not answer. He was looking across the table, his eyes directly on hers. Their gazes locked for several seconds and she finally broke the stare.