Counsel (Counsel #1)

by Shenda Paul

  Joseph looks up. He pales at the sight of Jon and his companions, but his expression, otherwise, remains unaltered. He turns to rapidly converse with his wife then gets up, straightens his jacket and walks to meet Jon. You have to give it to the guy; he has balls. He hasn’t made a run for it; he’s tried, instead, to orchestrate the nature of his arrest. Jon's having none of it; he lays his hands firmly on Joseph’s shoulder and reads him his rights before handing him over to his colleagues.

  People at surrounding tables are stunned into silence, but Joseph ignores their gaping stares. He turns to me with baleful eyes. "See you in court, Counselor," he sneers. I choose not to respond.

  With Joseph safely on his way to the precinct, Jon and I walk out to meet the media to make an impromptu statement. We’d planned on making a formal announcement in the morning, but with reporters covering the charity event having witnessed the arrest, we have no option but to make a statement.

  I tap the microphone on the hastily erected lectern to call for quiet. "I’ll make a short statement, then Senior Detective Holmes and I will take questions.

  "Tonight, Boston police searched the homes of Silvio, Joseph and Enzo Cordi and three of their associates. Several arrests have been made as a result of evidence found. Charges will be laid within the mandatory timeframe, and we'll provide details of those when appropriate. We'll take one question at a time, please."

  Jon and I are subjected to a barrage of questions, including a number about Justin’s alleged involvement. We shut those down immediately, and shortly after, I call an end.

  "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. As you can see, we have a lot of work to do," I announce before we retreat.

  "I hate those bastards nearly as much as I hate criminals," Jon mutters as soon as we’re out of earshot.

  "An unwelcome, but sometimes necessary and useful part of what we do," I commiserate.

  .

  .

  "I apologize for being preoccupied. I’m sure it wasn’t what you expected when you invited me," I say as I pull up outside Lisa’s apartment.

  "My expectations haven’t been dashed yet, Adam," she replies seductively. I smile, but choose not to respond, unsure whether or not I should accept her blatant overture.

  She breaks the short, somewhat awkward silence with an affected sigh. "You're probably going to be very busy aren’t you?"

  "Given tonight’s events, I don't anticipate having much free time in the foreseeable future."

  "Then we should make the most of the night," she pointedly suggests.

  After a moment’s contemplation, I turn off the engine and face her.

  "Invite me up."

  Chapter Five

  The table’s littered with files, laptops, and empty cups. Boxes of material we still have to sift through are piled high in a corner.

  Jon gets up and arches his back. "How about a ten-minute break?" he suggests.

  "I need to stretch my legs, I think I'll wander downstairs for a decent coffee. Can I get either of you anything?" I ask.

  "Let’s all go and get some lunch, bring it back and keep working," Jodi counters.

  "Shit, is that the time?" I exclaim when checking my watch. Jodi and I have been at it for close to six hours. Jon joined us three hours ago, but we still have a veritable mountain of information to sort through. It’s a tedious process, but our spirits are buoyed by what we’ve already uncovered.

  Jon’s team really hit pay dirt last night. At first, their searches proved fruitless, but things changed, thanks to the persistence and good instincts of a young detective, who spotted what appeared to be a discrepancy in the length of Silvio’s basement when compared to that of the house. Returning to Silvio’s study where the basement appeared to end, she uncovered a cleverly concealed hinged section in the bookcase. Behind that and down some stairs she found a room housing computers, documents, and weapons; the smoking gun we were hoping for. Once tipped off, the teams at Joseph and Enzo’s homes made easy work of their searches. Without that rookie’s tenacity, we would probably not have been able to arrest the Cordis.

  We hurry over lunch and, after a comfort break, get back to sifting through and meticulously cataloging evidence. My blood boils at what I’ve just found. It’s a list of female sex workers, their attributes recorded like one would expect livestock to be listed at auction. The youngest is barely eighteen, but it’s the press clipping in the same folder that sets my senses on high alert. I don't speak or read Spanish, but I recognize the word secuestrar. It means to kidnap and the victim’s name, I can tell from the caption, is Maria Riviera. She looks to be in her early to mid teens.

  "Jodi, do we have anyone fluent in Spanish? I ask.

  "Gracia Martinez. Why?"

  I hand over the clipping. "Can you get her up here to translate this, please?"

  Jodi returns with a middle-aged woman in tow. "Hello, Gracia, we're grateful for your help," I greet her when she’s been introduced. "Could you please read the article out loud?"

  "Daughter of Millionaire Kidnapped," she starts hesitantly and then, at my encouraging smile, continues more confidently. "Maria Riviera, younger daughter of Estaban Riviera, real estate tycoon, was abducted from outside her school two days ago. Her parents have made an impassioned plea for information from the public and are offering a reward of five million pesos for any clue leading to her return."

  The rest of the article concludes that abductions are a growing problem, usually closely followed by a ransom demand. Police remain puzzled as to why one hasn’t been made in Maria’s case.

  After Gracia leaves, I return to the list of sex workers’ names, hoping to find some clue establishing whether or not Maria ended up working for Joseph. I don’t, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s involved.

  By late afternoon, we’re satisfied that we have sufficient evidence to lay charges. All six arrested will be charged with drug trafficking, but Joseph is the only one who, at this stage, will also be charged with prostitution-related crimes. The arrests and laying of charges signal only the start of this case for Jodi and me. While Jon continues investigating, we face the enormous and unenviable task of documenting the mountain of evidence seized, initiating further investigations where we believe necessary, and then preparing the cases for trial. We’ll definitely need the help Bristly offered.

  Jon leaves to formally lay charges before the forty-eight-hour deadline expires, and as Jodi and I continue working in quiet companionship, I marvel, yet again, at how effortlessly we've slipped into an effective working relationship.

  "Adam, look at this," she suddenly exclaims, pushing a document under my nose. It lists the owners and directors of one of Joseph’s many companies. "Fidelity Properties buys, develops, then sells commercial real estate," she says, pointing to a particular section. Justin Wade’s listed as owning a thirty percent share of the company. She produces another document and again highlights a specific line, which lists Liaison, the gentlemen’s club Jon had referred to, as being owned by Fidelity.

  I'd desperately been hoping that the allegations against Justin would prove to be unfounded, yet here it is in black and white. Just how dirty his hands are remains unknown, but what we’ve just uncovered is enough to bring him in for questioning.

  "You should know that Justin Wade and I were college friends. The DA already knows, but I feel you should also be aware of the facts," I tell Jodi.

  She places a reassuring hand on my arm. "I don’t doubt your integrity…at all if that’s what you’re concerned about. If Wade is involved, I know you'll prosecute him as you would anyone else; but I hope, for the sake of your friendship, that this turns out to be a mistake, Adam."

  "Thanks, Jodi," I respond gratefully.

  We sort through the rest of the box together and uncover a detailed list of Liaison’s members. Some of the names astound me; respected members of Boston's society, some old enough to be grandfathers, for fuck
sake. We also find a letter from Joseph to Justin, referring to an agreement for Angelique Bain’s exclusive services. We find no trace of the actual agreement, however, but I have no doubt it exists. I still don’t understand why Justin would need to pay for female companionship, sexual or otherwise, when he could have the pick of any woman in Boston and beyond. And why would he get involved in anything criminal to do so? This woman must be something else; I can’t wait to find out what makes her so special.

  Back in my office, I call Jon with an update and to advise that we have sufficient evidence to question and most likely charge Justin under Chapter two-seventy-two, sections seven, twelve and twenty-four of the Commonwealth’s prostitution laws. He calls back later to advise that the Cordis and their henchmen have been formally charged and adds that he’ll be leaving for Justin’s office shortly.

  At home, later that evening, I receive a text message, which simply reads, The rooftop, six-thirty p.m. tomorrow. Despite the unrecognizable number and lack of signature, I immediately know who it's from. I now also know that Justin’s been taken in. I choose not to respond; it can wait until tomorrow, I decide.

  .

  .

  I arrive at the rooftop of our Harvard dorm building where we’d snuck up to on graduation night to drink champagne. Tom’s already waiting, and after a rather awkward greeting, he says it’s good to see me. I make some indecipherable sound because his invitation, I know, was not motivated by a desire to be social.

  "How's Cait," he asks, reminding me of the brief time he dated my sister. They’d, thankfully, stopped seeing each other shortly after I threatened him with bodily harm.

  "She's well; happily married."

  "That’s great," he responds with genuine pleasure before we lapse into another awkward silence.

  "Why have you asked me here, Tom?" I finally ask.

  "What, no stroll down memory lane?" he counters with a wry chuckle.

  "It's been years since we've seen or spoken to other each. I think that says everything about how interested either of us are in reminiscing, don’t you?"

  "We were good friends once, Adam. I hope we still are because one of us, as you know, is in trouble. Justin’s innocent."

  "Tom, you should stop before you say something to jeopardize Justin’s case. It would be unwise of you as his friend, and if you're acting as his attorney, you should arrange for an official meeting."

  He narrows his eyes. "Justin’s career could be ruined. He’s worked too hard …"

  "He should have considered that before willingly becoming involved with criminals," I interject.

  "So, this is him; the bastard I’ve heard about?" he asks.

  "I make no excuses for being good at what I do. I've worked hard at that."

  "So Justin be damned?" he challenges.

  "He’s no innocent bystander, Tom. He knew what he was getting himself into."

  "Do you hear yourself? He’s your friend."

  "You know the law, Justin knows the law. What would you do…or better still, what would you have me do?"

  "Recuse yourself," he says without hesitation. I turn away.

  "It's the right thing to do…" He calls out.

  "The right thing to do is to uphold the law," I reply, slamming the door to the fire escape.

  I take the long way home, wanting time to clear my thoughts. Our conversation didn’t really surprise me. I anticipated an attempt to trade on our relationship because I always felt that, at some point, either one or both Justin and Tom would expect something in return for their friendship. I'm just not prepared to do what they’re asking.

  Chapter Six

  "Your Honor, my client is innocent," Tom pronounces for the third time since taking to his feet.

  We’re at Justin’s arraignment hearing, which, essentially, provides an opportunity for him to be fully informed of the charges he’s facing and to advise him of his constitutional rights, and where, despite it not being deemed mandatory, he’ll have the first opportunity to enter a plea. He’s facing three charges; namely, receiving support from or sharing in the earnings of prostitution, procuring persons and enticing persons to enter a place of prostitution, and keeping a house of ill fame. If convicted, he faces two to seven years’ imprisonment.

  Today, the court will decide whether he’ll be released on bail or remanded into custody. After this hearing, his case proceeds to pre-trial conference, then several other hearings before proceeding to trial. Tom will have ample opportunity, at the appropriate time, to plead his client's case. The only reason, I believe, Judge Harrison hasn't called him to account for starting his defense early is out of deference to a member of the Massachusetts Senate appearing before her.

  "Given my client's position, reputation and standing in the community, I submit that he does not pose a flight risk. Senator Wade intends to stay in Boston, prove his innocence and protect his reputation. For these reasons, we ask that our client be released on bail, Your Honor," he says, finally getting to the point.

  Judge Harrison turns to me. "Mr. Thorne, does the Commonwealth have any objections?"

  "No objections, Your Honor," I reply without hesitation.

  "Bail is set at two million dollars," Judge Harrison announces before elaborating on the conditions of bail.

  Justin’s sat stoically throughout the hearing. He hasn’t spoken, even to Tom, and he hasn’t acknowledged me. I have no idea whether he shares Tom’s expectation that I recuse myself, but his demeanor today has shown that he’s either not ready or doesn’t wish to acknowledge or interact with me. Either way, I’ve decided to take my lead from him. I’m determined to treat him as I would any other defendant, but I can’t deny the regret I feel at seeing him in this position. My sadness isn’t for the man accused of a crime, but for the man he once was, the good he could have done for our community and for the friendship we once shared.

  "Are you all right?" Jodi asks solicitously. I give her a reassuring smile.

  "Yes, thanks. That went just as predicted."

  "It did, except for defense counsel’s rather unique approach," she adds dryly.

  "Tom’s always had a flair for the dramatic. He’s a close friend of Justin’s and also attended Harvard." She raises an astonished brow at my admission.

  "Well, that makes it even more interesting. I'm sorry your friendships will be tested in this way, Adam."

  "It is what it is," I say, ushering her out.

  Later, back at the office, she pops her head in to say that Bristly’s confirmed that Tess and Neil Forbes have been made available to help document evidence.

  "Do you want me to brief them or will you?" she asks.

  "Would you mind? I'm really into this right now." I wave my hand across my cluttered desk.

  "No problem," she replies easily and bounces out.

  I call Jon, who answers distractedly.

  "Hey, how are you?" I ask.

  "Busy, as I'm sure you are. We've picked up a couple more of the Cordi street dealers, but haven't uncovered anything new."

  "How are you going in locating the Liaison workers and other potential witnesses?"

  "We're working our way through the list. I'll let you have a progress report by the end of the week."

  "I look forward to that, but I'd like you to concentrate on Angelique Bain. We need to locate her, and I want to find out everything we can about her. I really think she’s the key to uncovering Wade’s motive."

  "I'll deal with it personally. Anything else?"

  "Not at this stage, Jon, but let's keep in touch, yeah?" I say before we end the call.

  I return to sorting through boxes but give up after failing to find anything relating to the agreement for Angelique Bain’s services. Needing a break, I decide to pick up Jodi on the way to the deli.

  "Adam and I, Adam and I.... I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you…" the familiar, but unusually strident voi
ce emanates from her office.

  "I’ll speak to Adam," Jodi cuts across the tirade.

  "You'll speak to Adam? He and I have a special relationship, I’ll speak to him!" Tess returns irately.

  "I was asked to deal with this by lead counsel; and for the last time, I don't have any designs on Adam Thorne, irresistible as he may seem to you. Let me offer you a word of advice; if he's interested in you, let him do the chasing."

  "Why you…" Tess splutters.

  "Jodi, would you mind giving us a few minutes?" I interrupt. "Then, would you like to get something to eat and catch up?"

  "I'll meet you at the elevator." She gives me a strained smile, then, with a final pointed look at Tess, gathers her handbag and leaves.

  "Adam…" Tess starts immediately.

  "What are you doing?" I interject coldly. "You've embarrassed yourself and me; and why the hell would you suggest there’s something between us?"

  Her lip quivers. I've never seen Tess this emotional before and soften my tone marginally. "You've got to get over whatever notion you're harboring about you and I being more than friends, Tess."

  "Why? Am I not good enough? Not part of Boston's social set like Jaclyn or Lisa Delaney?"

  "That's a load of bullshit, and you know it. I'm not having this conversation with you, and if you wish to maintain any semblance of professionalism, you’ll apologize to Jodi. You have until the end of the day, or I’ll find someone else to work on this case. Shut Jodi's door on the way out, will you?"

  I find Jodi, and rather than visiting the deli, I suggest we go to the hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant, a favorite with many in our office.

  She doesn't raise her altercation with Tess, yet her circumspection doesn't surprise me. Jodi, I’ve come to learn, is the consummate professional. We discuss the Cordi arraignments scheduled for the next afternoon instead. Just before we leave, I finally raise the matter and apologize. "I need you to know that there has never been, nor have I ever given Tess reason to believe she and I could be anything other than friends," I tell her.