by Bill Sage
I gotta hang in there. Al will do something this guy won’t see coming. Until it’s too late.
17
ROTH PINNED HIS hopes on Ben getting useful information out of Sands. If Ben could get him to disclose where they had Asher, he could devise a plan to rescue him.
But if Ben was unsuccessful, Roth still had the transponder. If the kidnappers retrieved the Toyota and took it back to their hideout, the tracking device would pinpoint where they were holding Asher. Then Roth could design a plan to either attack the building or ambush the kidnappers when they came outside.
As he was getting ready to take the bench, his clerk, Judy, dialed his chambers on the courthouse line.
“Congressman Steve Ward is here for your appointment,” she said.
Shit!
He’d forgotten about the appointment with Ward. Obviously, this wasn’t a good time to talk politics. Asher and Linda occupied all his thoughts. To make things worse, he had a stack of cases on the calendar.
He wished he’d never made the appointment. But there was no way he could’ve foreseen what his life would be like today.
“Send him back,” Roth said in a downcast voice.
Steve Ward had been former Congressman Hamilton’s chief of staff. Years ago, at Hamilton’s behest, Ward tried to blackmail Roth into giving Hamilton’s ally a light sentence in a bribery case. But thanks to Jake, Hamilton suddenly disappeared and the problem went away.
Months after Hamilton’s disappearance, Ward ran for his vacant seat and won.
As Roth was closing a file, Judy was at Roth’s chambers’ open door with Ward. “Judge Roth…Congressman Ward,” she said, gesturing with her arm.
Ward nodded at her then stepped inside.
Seeing Ward, Roth recalled the last time he’d been in his chambers. It was on the day Roth handed down the sentence in the bribery case. Ward blamed the whole thing on Hamilton. He said Hamilton forced him to blackmail Roth and he apologized. But when he left, Roth refused to shake his hand.
That was five years ago. Most of the hard feelings had since faded away. Although Ward had been an enemy of Roth’s, things had changed. Ward was now a three-term congressman. And the big thing——he was coming to see Roth, not the other way around.
Roth assumed it must be about a fundraiser or an Orange County political problem.
“Congratulations on your reelection,” Roth said, coming around to the front of his desk.
Shaking Roth’s hand, Ward said, “Thanks, Al. It’s good to see you away from all the backslapping and the other bullshit.”
Smiling, Roth said, “Have a seat.”
After they’d both sat down, Ward said, “Al, I know you’re busy. So, I want to get straight to the point. I need your help. And it’s not legal. It’s personal.”
Roth’s initial instinct was to tell him to pound sand, but he held off saying anything until he’d heard what Ward had to say.
“Despite his well-known prejudices,” Ward went on, “Hamilton said you were different from the other judges. He said that a number of times.”
Roth didn’t respond. Took a breath and waited.
“He thought you had connections. You know, you could make things happen, get things done.”
Raising his eyebrows, Roth said, “Hmm, that’s a new one on me.”
“I don’t know what he was going on. Maybe he heard it from one of the Detroit-area congressmen.”
Roth leaned back in his chair. No expression on his face.
“Well, for the sake of this discussion,” Ward said, “I’m going to assume it’s true.”
Now squinting, Roth kept his eyes on Ward. How much does he know?
“Will you hear me out?”
After waiting a second or two, Roth answered, “Sure. Let’s hear what you have to say.” Roth could see Ward looked uncomfortable.
Ward took a deep breath. “If you can help me, I’ll do anything within my power to repay you. Does a federal bench appointment interest you? It can be anything.”
“I don’t need anything right now.”
“Okay, let me get right to it.” He swallowed, then said, “Back when I was at the University of Arizona, I made a mistake. It was something foolish, just happened.”
Ward loosened his tie a bit. “I experimented with…I had a relationship with another guy. It only lasted a few weeks.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Believe me, Al, I’m not gay. I have a wife, two daughters.”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Roth said, shrugging.
“Al, it was years ago. Let me assure you…”
“Relax,” Roth said, shooting him an expression that he was losing his patience. “Believe me, I couldn’t care less about your private life.”
“Okay, okay. Here’s what’s happening. Ever since I’ve become a congressman, this guy has been making me pay thousands to keep him quiet.”
The blackmailer gets blackmailed. That’s the way it should be.
“I’m tired of it, Al. It’s never going to end. Now he wants ten thousand. He’s gotta be stopped.”
“When you say ‘stopped,’ what do you mean?”
“Don’t care. Anything.” Ward eyed Roth for a second then looked away.
“An ultimate solution!” Roth thundered. “That would be grossly excessive. I can’t believe you’d even think of anything like that.”
Roth was deliberately taking advantage of what Ward had said and using it against him. He wanted him to feel bloodthirsty and pitiless. Why? Because if Ward felt humiliated, it would increase Roth’s leverage in negotiating a return favor in case he did agree to help him.
“No, no, of course not,” Ward said. “I’ll rely on you. Whatever you think.”
It worked. Roth could tell Ward felt embarrassed. Nevertheless, Roth still intended to turn him down, not do anything to help him.
“I don’t think there’s anything I can do,” Roth said. “I lost contact with people who could do stuff like that many years ago.”
And why should I help you?
Ward took a deep breath. “I know we got off to a bad start. But that was years ago. Please, Al, maybe there’s something you could do. Can you think about it? You know, take a little time…”
While Roth was listening to Ward’s final pitch, an interesting thought popped in his head.
There was something Ward could do for him!
Leaning forward, Roth asked, “You’re on the Banking Committee, aren’t you?”
“I’m vice-chairman.”
“Have any authority over grants?”
Nodding in the affirmative, Ward asked, “Why, what do you have in mind?”
Roth told him about his Uncle Ziggy. He left out the part about Ziggy being an ex-Purple Gang mobster and why he needed the money.
“No problem. I can get it done.”
“Okay,” Roth said, giving him a quick nod. “I’ll see if there’s anything I can do about eliminating your problem.”
Ward smiled, then said, “Okay…”
Roth looked at his watch. “They’re waiting for me. I have to get back to the trial.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll let you know.” Then, after pausing, Roth said, “Of course, no promises.”
“I understand,” Ward said, getting up.
“Let me have the details on this guy…just in case.”
Ward pulled a folded piece of paper out of his shirt pocket. “Here’s the information I have on him. His name is Robert Pritchard.”
“Okay, that’s it,” Roth said, pushing his chair back. “When I find out, I’ll contact you, and we can meet and discuss it.”
That night, Al called Jake to tell him about Ward.
“He’s gotta have big balls to ask you for help after what he tried to do to you,” Jake said. “It’s totally bizarre.”
“You need anything…you know, from him?”
“What could he possibly do for me?”
“I don’t know. Probably nothin
g.”
“You’re the guy who could maybe benefit.”
After a moment, Al said, “I know someone who could use his help, but I wanted to check with you first.” He held back saying anything more to build suspense.
Jake waited, but when Al didn’t follow through with a name, he asked, “Who you talking about?”
“Ziggy.” Then he told Jake about Ward lining up a grant for Ziggy that would give him the money he’d lost in his ill-fated fencing job.
“Al, that’s perfect.”
“Now we can deliver.”
“I wish I could see his face when you tell him.”
“Here’s the thing, though. If it’s at all possible, I’d like to take care of this as soon as possible. Get it out of the way before we need to take action on Ash.”
“I’m with you on that.”
“How much time do you think you’d need?”
“Could be a week.”
“Wow, that much time? How come?”
“Need to tail him, see where he goes, then pick a good spot.”
“What about just knocking on his door and nailing him there?”
“Don’t know who’s with him. Neighbors could be watching. Besides, that’s the high school dropout way of doing it.”
“Okay. But a week? We can’t do that now. Not with what’s going on.”
“I know, but that’s the way it is.”
“What about… Can you contact someone out there who can do the groundwork?”
“Don’t know anyone in Tucson.”
“What about Mario?”
“Not on this, Al. I save him for the big stuff.”
“Lou? Think he can help?”
“Good thought. I’ll check with him right away.”
“Let me know.”
“If that works out,” Jake said, “all I’ll need is one or two days.”
“The shorter, the better.”
Jake held back saying anything for a few seconds. Then: “It’s a two-man job.”
Chuckling, Al said, “Okay, I’ll go with you. Be like old times.”
“If you’re serious, that’d be great. We could line up some hookers.”
Al knew Jake was poking fun at him. “I know you’re joking, so I guess I should say ‘yes.’ But you know I don’t do shit like that.”
“Yeah, I know. But look at what you have at home. No wonder you don’t want any strange.”
Al chuckled.
“Okay, that’s it…”
“One last thing, though. I’m gonna hit Ward up for some expense money. I think four thousand should handle it.”
“Travel, hotel, food. Should be enough.”
18
HANK WAS STILL at his desk, boiling with anger. Asher could hear him make grunting sounds.
He’s gonna flip out, and I’m here alone with this psycho with my hands tied behind my back.
When Asher glanced up, he saw Hank’s eyes darting back and forth between him and the wall.
After a few seconds, Hank suddenly slammed his fist on the desk. “Shit,” he roared.
Then he leapt from his chair and stomped over to Asher.
“You motherfucker,” he shrieked as he punched Asher in the face. Rights and lefts. “I’ll kill you myself,” he shrieked.
Asher slid off the chair, bleeding from his nose and mouth.
Hank didn’t stop. He kicked Asher in the face and stomach, shouting, “That asshole’s gonna get you killed.”
“You’re crazy,” Asher yelled as he tried to get up, the warrior mentality starting to kick in.
Hank stomped his boot down on Asher’s neck. “I’ll tell you one thing. You’re never gonna leave this place alive. You know what we look like and this office. When we get the dough, you’re dead.”
Then he returned to his desk. “You probably figured that out a long time ago, didn’t you?” he said with a laugh.
Then Hank went back to reading the mail.
Asher told himself not to dwell on what could happen. Driving himself crazy with fear wouldn’t do him any good. The key to surviving was to look ahead and imagine getting out of there alive. When he thought of Roth concocting schemes to free him, it lifted his spirits and fortified his resolve to face whatever came his way.
A short while later, Tim returned from In-N-Out. He placed the bags on the desk. Hank took out his burger and fries, then got a Coors out of the small fridge.
“Jeez, what did you do to him?” Tim asked, looking at Asher.
“Roth is screwing everything up.”
“So why take it out on him? He’s got nothing to do with it.” Tim helped Asher into the chair.
“Hey, asshole,” Hank snarled. “Don’t forget who masterminded this. You’re not gonna get a fuckin’ cent if you don’t keep your mouth shut.”
Tim eyed Miller for a moment. Then he put his hand on Asher’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“Get away from him,” Hank screamed as he stood up. “What the hell you doing?”
“I wanna give him his burger.”
“Get outta here. I’ll give it to him.”
“Yeah, okay.”
When Tim shut the door, Hank unwrapped Asher’s burger and stepped over to him. “Here’s your burger,” he sneered. Then he mashed it into Asher’s hair. “Enjoy, motherfucker.”
Asher felt pieces of meat and pickles sliding down his neck, his hair wet.
Laughing, Miller went back to the desk and took a bag of fries out of the In-N-Out bag.
Walking back to Asher, he said, “I’m sick of you and Roth. I’ll get that asshole after we take care of you.”
Buoyed by a fresh resolve, Asher said, “You probably already know that you fucked with the wrong guy. If you’re smart, you’ll let me go. Then everybody will go their separate ways.”
“Roth!” Hank said, scoffing. “What’s he gonna do? Hit me with his little hammer? Hold me in contempt? You’re a delusional scumbag.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
“Fuck you. You’re a slimebag, soon to be a dead slimebag.”
Holding the fries out in front of him, Hank asked, “You want these fries to go with your burger?”
When Asher didn’t respond, Hank threw the open bag at him. Fries landed on his head and shoulders then fell to the floor.
Walking back to his desk, Hank picked up a ketchup packet. “Gee, I’m sorry. Would you like some ketchup with your fries?”
Then he hurled it at Asher’s head and walked out, slamming the door.
Now I know I could kill.
19
AL TOSSED AND TURNED throughout the night. The kidnapping was taking its toll. Lying wide awake, he couldn’t wait to get up.
Finally, when it was 5:00 in the morning, he jumped out of bed.
After having a quick breakfast, he went to the courthouse. It was too early, none of the other judges was there yet. Roth read the newspaper for about an hour, then, after getting another cup of coffee, he called Lopez.
“Have you had time to run Sands’ rap sheet?”
“Yeah, did it yesterday. Had to go down there to do it.”
“What did you find out?”
“He’s been arrested eight times. Did some county time, mainly burgs, but some GTAs, assaults, and an ADW. No drugs.”
“Low-level hood.”
“Seems like it. Then I read all the crime reports. That’s when it started getting interesting.”
“Okay, go on.”
“A guy’s name kept popping up. You know, as an accomplice. His name is Samuel H. Miller. Similar rap sheet as Sands, but he’s got narcotics and forgery beefs. Tons of assaults, including some on police officers. Looks like a hothead.”
“LA or Orange County guy?”
“OC. I got an address and phone number.”
“Address good?”
“I cold-called the number. Asked for ‘Mrs. Miller.’ The woman answering said that was her. Not to make her feel suspicious, I didn’t just hang up. I said I was sol
iciting for the veterans. After several minutes, she said she wasn’t interested.”
“Where’s he live?”
“Dana Point.”
“You need to tail him. He may lead to Ash.”
“If you keep this up, I’m gonna demand mileage.”
“But you’re having so much fun. Like being back at LAPD but without the restraints.”
“I’m just pulling your leg.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m still gonna take you out for a night on the town.”
“Before I forget, I ran the VIN on the Toyota. Traced it through various owners, and of course, it’s been reported stolen.”
“Okay, that ends that.”
Roth had some time before he had to take the bench, so he called Ben. He had two things to talk to him about. First, he wanted to find out how he was doing on breaking down Sands. And second, he wanted to give Ben a question to ask him. A question that would not only surprise Sands but could possibly pry the truth out of him.
Ben said, “We still got him at the safe house.”
“Okay. Phil with him now?”
“Yeah. You should see the joint. You wouldn’t believe it. It’s a two-story, three bathrooms. He’s upstairs gagged and handcuffed to a chair. The windows have shutters, but they’re nailed shut.”
“I can use it when Linda kicks me out of the house.”
“That’ll never happen.”
“You never know,” Al said with a laugh.
“We’re still not getting anywhere with Sands. He keeps sticking to his story.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Short of doing a Goldman on him, I’m running dry.”
“That’s one reason I’m calling. I got something for you to try.”
“What?”
“Tell him you know that he and Sam Miller are in on the kidnapping. And that if he leads you to Ash, you’ll spare his life.”
“’Sam Miller’? How do you know that?”
“Lopez. He looked at Sands’ rap sheet and read the crime reports. Miller’s name kept popping up.”
“So, you think they could be working together on this?”
