Maya takes a breath, not wanting to let John’s stubbornness bother her. Unlike him, she still appreciates the need for secrecy. It would undermine them both if news of these stealth meetings spread. She hopes the pause can also help him calm down.
“Fine. Off the record, is it true? Does POTCH own everything in Robbie’s life? The apartment, the cars, the helicopter? Are you going to be able to seize any of it to reimburse investors?”
“I said, no comment.”
“Come on, John. You already gave me plenty of information to print. My article never could have happened without you. Tell me if it’s true that Robbie’s broke on paper and everything in his life comes from POTCH?”
“Everything in his life comes from theft, he’s just good at hiding it with this stupid cult’s assistance.”
“I warned you.”
John slumps back against the side of the SUV. He’s hardly slept since receiving the warrant from Judge Richards and the exhaustion is catching up with him. He’s struggling to handle all the attention this case is drawing, as well as the twists that seem to be waiting around every corner to screw up his plans.
“I thought we were on the same side,” John mutters, his voice finally dropping to match Maya’s whisper. “Reading today’s paper confirms to me that we’re not. I made a mistake letting you break this story.”
“Oh, please. We used each other. We both got what we wanted out of this arrangement. You wouldn’t have that arrest warrant if it weren’t for me. The warrant that you’re wasting, by the sounds of it.”
“I’m doing my best, it just feels like I’m alone and everyone is sabotaging me.”
“Can I print that?” Maya asks eagerly. She didn’t agree to this meeting to walk away without anything new for the Star. “From my conversations with them, I believe that you and the prosecutors are diverging from being on the same team.”
“No, I don’t fight my battles in the papers.”
“Then why are you here, John?”
“I’m here because this article suggests you still have a source inside Merry Men. I want to know who it is. Who’s talking?”
“Are you going to be able to get anything back from Robbie?” Maya ignores John’s question and asks. She isn’t giving a source up to him. “Are all of his rich investors screwed?”
“Stop making him sound like a folk hero.”
“I’m not trying to. But actions speak louder than words. Are you worried POTCH could become involved in the trial and derail your case? You should have listened to my concerns about them sooner. It could have saved you this trouble.”
“You don’t know what I’ve been doing or anything about my case. Now, who’s your source?”
“You should be happy that I never reveal my sources. I bet it helps you sleep better at night.”
John does his best to ignore the comment, but a part of him wonders how evident his exhaustion is. Nothing’s helping him avoid the hours of tossing and turning when he does manage to find time to slip away to a bed.
“I haven’t done anything to hide.”
“So you don’t worry about the judge’s reaction to your manipulation through the press? Do you remember your complaints when you first called me? Your sad realization that the government never does anything unless press attention pushes them too.”
“You’re not going to get me to comment on any of this. Especially about Judge Richards.”
“It doesn’t have to be about the judge. Do you worry that the lack of Robbie owning anything will hurt your case with a jury? Chris didn’t seem to know, but do you have any informants who can directly implicate Robbie?”
“Chris doesn’t know a lot of things.”
“I’d love to quote you on that.”
“No,” John barks. “Who’s the source?”
The sound of tires squealing makes them both snap to attention. John jumps away from the SUV, knowing he should be alert. No matter how tired he is or how heavy his eyelids feel, he knows he can’t let his guard down. Especially not here, in a building crawling with more reporters than cockroaches.
“Chris told me his investment was never touched,” Maya says after the headlights disappear down the ramp. “Do you have enough evidence to convict Robbie?”
“I’ll tell you if you answer my question.”
“No chance. I’m sure you’ll tell me you’re confident, and I won’t believe you.”
“Help me out here, Maya,” John pleads. He knows this meeting has gone on for long enough, and he places one hand on the driver’s door handle to show her this is his final attempt. He holds his other hand out in front of him and pouts his lip, doing his best impression of a child asking for more soup. “I already gave you a scoop that led to a career-defining article. Give me something I can take away from this meeting.”
Maya considers the request for a moment. It lasts longer than John would like. To him, it seems like an easy decision, giving him this small crumb of information in return for the mountains he’s shared. Unfortunately, Maya’s shrug of her shoulders gives John the answer he doesn’t want before she even opens her mouth.
“That’s not my job.”
Turning around and walking back to the stairwell, Maya doesn’t watch as John collapses against the hood of his SUV. He rests his head there for a minute, his shoulders slouched down his sides. The warmth of the motor feels comforting on his cheek. It’s the only comfort he’s finding this week.
This isn’t at all how he wanted this meeting to go.
Chapter Thirty Two
Even before John answers the phone, he has a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He can sense something’s wrong.
Fearing the worst, he waits until the fourth ring to slide his thumb across the screen and answer the call.
“We’re done, John.”
Doing his best to avoid collapsing, John fights to keep an edge in his voice, but he doesn’t have the energy to shout anymore.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“We’re dropping the charges against Robbie,” Sally says. “We don’t have enough for a jury.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Sally? We haven’t even tried.”
“Nobody’s flipping on Robbie, no matter the plea deals we offer. The witnesses you promised aren’t coming forward, so we’re giving up.”
“We just need to apply more pressure,” John groans. He can’t believe they’re already having this conversation. “But even without them, I’ve collected plenty of evidence. We’ve been through their financials, Merry Men don’t own any stocks. Their investors’ money is gone, people could go bankrupt. And it didn’t just disappear in bad investments. Read the papers, everyone knows Robbie’s a fraud.”
“The government doesn’t want to waste the taxpayers’ money on a case that will only end in defeat.”
“That sounds like the kind of crap a politician says, not law enforcement. Where’s this coming from, Sally?”
“Look, John, it doesn’t matter. It’s done.”
“Says who?”
“The government of the United States of America.”
John swings his arm forward in frustration, only just managing to maintain his grip on the phone. At the last second, he decides he doesn’t want to smash it against the wall.
He wants to yell.
“Is someone pressuring you?”
“Of course!” Sally raises her voice before he gets the chance. “This office is run by a political appointment. We’re always being pressured from one side or another. All you need to know is that my boss is meeting with people he hasn’t seen in years, and I’m getting phone calls from people I’ve never met. This case is closed.”
“How can it be closed? Robbie isn’t rotting in a prison cell yet.”
“The SEC may still pursue their own charges against him if that’s any consolation.”
“It’s not! You know it’s not. I don’t care about civil charges, fines, or lawsuits. They let this run on for ye
ars under their watch. I want Robbie wasting away behind bars for the rest of his days.”
“For the sake of all our careers, this case is closed.”
“My career? I don't care about my career anymore. This was supposed to make it, not break it. At this point, I only care about justice.”
“Consider justice served as well as it can be.”
“What does that mean?”
“The only people who got hurt from this will survive without any major issues. No one’s going broke, no one’s even declaring bankruptcy. Robbie doesn’t have anything to his name to return to and his reputation’s in tatters. At the end of the day, the only people benefiting from this are those that society already left behind before Robbie came around and offered a helping hand.”
“Jesus Christ, you sound like the New York Star. How can you think Robbie’s crimes were a net positive?”
“That’s going to be the official line, John. Get used to hearing it.”
John’s anger finally wins out. He throws his phone away from his ear in frustration. At least he has the aim of a designated hitter, not a pitcher. His phone lands harmlessly on the couch, several feet from the wall he intended to smash it against.
After a deep breath, his rage is only reinforced, and he runs over and picks his phone up from the couch. Miraculously, Sally’s still on the line and he gives her the earful of a lifetime.
Across town, while John’s ripping into Sally and letting her know how he truly feels, Maya receives a remarkably similar phone call.
“They’re letting Robbie out today.”
“What? When? Why?”
While her voice is full of confusion, Maya’s fully alert now. This is hardly the news she’s been expecting to hear today. She pauses her treadmill and presses the earbud into her head to make sure she’s hearing Mark correctly. Grabbing a towel off the side of the treadmill, Maya tries to wipe the sweat off her neck and forehead as she listens for answers.
“They’re dropping all charges, sounds like there isn’t enough evidence for a trial. The U.S. Attorney’s going to be announcing it any minute. It’ll take some time to process his release, but he should be out by this afternoon.”
“Today?” Maya confirms as she grabs her water bottle and starts walking to the gym’s changing rooms. “I talked to them only a couple of days ago and there was a lot of confidence in the case.”
“Maya,” Mark says in the condescending tone she detests men using. “Don’t waste your time talking to the people on the front lines. The real decision-makers have stepped in and corrected course.”
“Corrected course? They’re letting a criminal walk away free and clear.”
“It’s hardly clear, Maya. The reputation he’s spent years building is in shambles. He’ll never work on Wall Street again.
“That punishment doesn’t fit the crime.”
“What’s the real crime here, Maya? The redistribution of wealth Robbie brought along?”
“Since when does our government care about that?”
“The government doesn’t want to waste the taxpayers’ money on a case that will only end in defeat.”
“What happened to law and order?” Maya hates Chris for using the slogan, but it feels applicable with this perverted twist of justice.
“Christopher Clark isn’t in any position of power. He never will be, after this.”
“So, the government’s priority isn’t justice?”
“The only people who got hurt won’t have a problem surviving this. Robbie’s returning to nothing and his life is forever ruined. His actions benefited a certain kind of person in our society. At the end of the day, didn’t those people deserve to catch a break, Maya?”
This argument isn’t swaying her. It doesn’t take being a reporter to smell a load of bull when someone’s trying to shovel it to you. “The only person catching a break here is Robbie. Why?”
“Come on, Maya. You must have known this was the direction it was all heading in when I provided you that list of Robbie’s victims. It’s practically a photocopy of the National Labor Relations Board’s top offenders’ list. The public won’t be on the side of the victims this time.”
“Since when does our government pick sides between billionaires?”
“Since I do my job well.”
“Do you do it alone?”
“What are you asking me?”
Maya takes a second to swallow a big gulp from her water bottle. She knows to be careful with how this question is phrased, and her mouth is too dry from her run to spit out an accusation without rushing it.
“Who did POTCH pressure? Do they have blackmail material, or are their members in high enough places to willingly intervene?”
She’ll never know for sure, but Maya swears she can hear some laughter on the other end of the phone call.
“You’re a smart girl, Maya. I recommend leaving this alone. Nothing good will come from following that line of questioning.”
“The government might not be interested in justice, but I’m still interested in finding the truth.”
“Look, Maya, I’m calling you as a courtesy. You can break the news of Robbie’s release and be there when he receives his freedom. Despite everything you’ve done, I think he would like to see you when he gets out.”
Maya sighs into the phone before confirming where Robbie’s being held and the expected release time. She agrees to be there, but only for the development in her story, not Robbie’s personal pleasure. She guarantees a photographer from the Star will be with her.
On her way out of the locker room, she debates going home first to change. Waking up early for a quick run and then for groceries, she isn’t exactly wearing her Sunday best. The yoga pants and old band t-shirt from a concert she went to almost a decade ago aren’t how she wants to be known if she’s caught on the edges of photographers’ pictures at the release.
Plus, it isn’t how she wants to reunite with Robbie.
Reaching to her neck, she smiles at the realization that she had subconsciously put Robbie’s whale necklace on this morning. The expensive diamonds don’t match the rest of her outfit, but Robbie will like seeing it.
Exiting the gym, the cold December air on her skin knocks some sense into her. She doesn’t care what Robbie thinks. The necklace should be enough to make him smile, and it’s more important to be there in time for the story than to look good in the background of black and white photos.
Flagging a taxi down, she knows exactly where she needs to go.
Sliding into the cab’s backseat, Maya feels her phone ringing before she even has a chance to direct the driver to her destination.
“You must be happy,” says John.
“Why should I be happy?” Maya asks as she motions for the driver to turn left.
“Your article worked. The public doesn’t view Robbie as the bad guy here. That list of victims you published is turning Robbie into our generation’s Jesse James or John Dillinger. He’s a folk hero, a man of the people, not Al Capone,” John lets out a deep sigh, ready to finally admit his ambitions to her. “So much for me being Eliot Ness.”
“Why do you think this is what I wanted? I’m the one who wrote the article that brought Robbie down, remember?”
“Why else would you follow it up with these articles about his victims and the mistakes we’ve made in the investigation?”
“The list of victims made a good story and your mistakes were noteworthy. How can you lose the one man you invade a building to arrest? Or not flip a single co-conspirator in our selfish era? I only ever published the truth, John.”
“I don’t know how or why, but they’re all stubbornly loyal to Robbie.”
“Everyone is. He’s beloved. You should have realized that during your investigation and accounted for it.”
“Don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted, Maya.”
“A lot of people were hoping for this. I’m not sure I count myself among them,” Maya admits. It’s an admi
ssion to herself and to John; she truly isn’t sure how she wants Robbie’s story to end. “While you were busy failing to find justice, I’ve been chasing the truth. I haven’t had time to think about where my heart lies.”
“Well, you’ll be able to see Robbie in a few hours, so you better figure it out.”
Chapter Thirty Three
Maya’s one of the first reporters to arrive for Robbie’s release. There certainly would have been enough time to change; she has to keep reminding herself that she doesn’t care. It’s better to be first on the scene than arrive with her hair curled.
She may be first and able to camp out near the doors, but after hours of waiting, she’s hardly alone. Ignoring most of her colleagues and competitors, she tries to distract herself with some music.
After a while of daydreaming and waiting, she finally notices someone worth talking to. Giving up her spot beside the door, Maya slides through the crowd. She figures a quote will be more beneficial to her story than watching the back of Robbie’s head as he walks away. Besides, it’s really only her cameraman’s positioning that matters.
“Where’s John?” Maya asks as she reaches her target.
Pete looks surprised to see her, as if there’s anywhere else she’d be in the world than right here.
“He doesn’t want to watch this,” Pete mutters, trying to ignore her.
“But you do?”
Pete shakes his head, but he is here. “I was nearby picking up a new mobile to hang over my kids’ cribs when I got the call. Feels like I’m meant to be here when he comes out in a second.”
“He’s coming out?” Maya asks, wondering if Pete’s talking to someone inside the building.
“Yeah, they’re escorting him down the stairs right now.”
Pete’s speaking a little too loudly and the message quickly spreads through the crowd gathered on the street. Backing away from Pete, Maya isn’t able to make it all the way back to her spot by the doors. The rest of the crowd has moved to replace her and the path is blocked.
Struggling to maneuver through the crowd, Maya realizes the reporters are significantly outnumbered by protestors. It’s almost a ratio of four to one in favor of the citizens.
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