Bill doesn’t like his mentor’s name being dragged through the mud, but for the sake of information, he keeps his emotions in check. “And what would Hardgrave get out of giving Lewis information?”
“Seeing his daughter, Michelle.” Carlos rubs his shoulder again, rolling his arm backward. “If Hardgrave helped Lewis, then Lewis would make sure that Michelle came to the meeting. From what Juan told me, the judge adored Michelle, but Michelle hated him. This was the only way he could see her. She would never just go by herself.”
“That makes sense. Hardgrave wanted nothing more than his daughter’s forgiveness. He spent the last ten years of his life trying to redeem himself for all the mistakes of his past, and nothing mattered more than his daughter. Her forgiveness never came.” Bill sits down behind his desk, his hands flat on the table. “Your name was mentioned in connection with Juan Lewis, and Lewis was mentioned in connection with the Hardgrave murder.”
“Just because he’s my cousin doesn’t mean that I’m connected to everything in his life.”
“But you’re close with him?”
“He’s family, yes. We speak on a weekly basis.”
“And you would cover for him, if needed?”
Carlos doesn’t answer the question straight away. Instead, he looks away, moving a pen holder slightly on Bill Harvey’s desk, dispersing his nervous energy. It’s a sure sign that he’s avoiding an honest answer.
“Maybe.” He coughs loudly, a deep cough caused by many years of smoking more than a packet a day.
The honest answers have stopped, and Bill realizes he isn’t going to get any more information out of the Mexican-born Californian just now. Slowly, he leans back in his chair, eyes staring at Carlos with a sense of authority.
Carlos avoids the eye contact, squirming to find a comfortable position. When it’s clear who is in charge of the room, Bill turns his attention to the current file.
“Carlos, I’m going to be honest with you about your case – because that’s the way I prefer to work. I don’t like to string a client along.” He opens a folder in front of him. “I have reviewed the file on your drug possession charges, and things don’t look good for you. The prosecution seems determined to send you to prison for this one.”
“What? The drugs weren’t mine. They weren’t mine.” The fear begins to build in Carlos. Prison isn’t where he wants to spend the next four years. “I had never seen that briefcase before. Never. It wasn’t mine. How can I be charged for something that I had nothing to do with?”
The terror of the orange jumpsuit is real.
“Carlos, I have talked to the right people and conducted the preliminary investigations. There isn’t a lot for me to go on in this case. Now, I could sit here and sell you hope. I could sit here and fill you with confidence about the future – telling you all about the freedom that you’ll enjoy – but I’m not going to do that. I’m not giving you a false feeling about this case. Instead, I’m going to give you the truth. And the truth is that you’re in trouble.”
“But I’m innocent. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Get innocent people off charges? Isn’t that why we have a legal system?” Carlos leans forward on the desk, desperate for his voice to be heard.
“Carlos, the police raided your apartment and found a briefcase full of heroin. That heroin has a street value of $50,000, and you haven’t offered a valid explanation for how the drugs came to be in your apartment. That isn’t a good start, but it gets worse from there.”
“I have offered an explanation. They planted it! The police planted the drugs. Man! How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“That’s not good enough, Carlos. That explanation isn’t going to get you off these charges.”
“They weren’t mine! That should be the only explanation that you should need.”
“There is a lot of evidence in your drug charges case and not a lot of explanation. That’s not a good start. The police need probable cause to press charges, and in court, we need to eliminate any reasonable doubt, so that gives us a head start when a case goes to court. The problem here is that no matter how large our head start is, we don’t look like winning this case. We need a lot of things to go right for us before we even consider taking this to court.”
“Then why would I pay you? Your services aren’t cheap, my friend.”
“You pay me because I’ll get you the best outcome for this case, that I can tell you with confidence. However, the best outcome may be to do a deal with the prosecution. We have to consider that option. And that deal may still involve going to prison for a period of time.”
Carlos stares at Bill intently – this meeting certainly isn’t going the way he expected. He has been through the system twice before, and it’s not a journey he has enjoyed.
Ten years ago, he faced the legal system for the first time. He was nabbed on the street carrying a small amount of drugs and spent a year behind bars. But that year changed him; he reformed. He found God, he got clean, and he transformed his life on the inside.
He was the perfect example of what prison could, and should, do.
But he ran into trouble with the law again four years later when he was arrested on a reckless driving charge. In desperate need of help, he looked up a lawyer online. He typed ‘Good lawyer in L.A. – cheap’ into Google, and Bill Harvey’s name was the first to appear. Bill had a smaller office then, just him working out of a tight, dark, messy office space in Downtown. He didn’t even have Kate back in those days. But Bill Harvey was a tireless worker, and the more cases he took on, the greater his reputation grew.
And the bigger is reputation grew, the bigger is office became.
He took Carlos’ reckless driving case and proved that there was no willful or wanton disregard for safety on Carlos’ behalf. He was merely driving fast because his mother had just been admitted to hospital after a fall. Unfortunately for Carlos, he crashed the car on the trip and made the rest of the journey in the back of an ambulance. At least he got to lie next to his mother as they worked on his broken leg.
“I can’t do this.” Carlos grips his chair tightly. “I can’t take on this stress.”
“We’ll do the best we can, Carlos. We’ll—”
“I need a cigarette.” Carlos abruptly stands and walks straight out the office door, fumbling for the smokes in his pocket. The pressure has hit him hard. Life as he knows it is about to be taken away, again.
After Carlos has stormed past her desk, Kate pops her head into Bill’s office. “Is he coming back?”
“He’ll be back in a moment. He’s just gone out for a smoke.”
Kate gently shuts the door. “Did you get anything from him? In relation to the Hardgrave case?”
“He didn’t say anything directly, but I got the information I needed. The people he associates himself with are killers, cold-blooded killers. Any investigations into this case are going to push into risky territory. If we’re going to do this, if we’re going to find this killer, we have to be ready for that. This is going to get heavy, Kate.”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Chapter 4
“To give ourselves the best chance of winning, I’m going to ask you to explain everything to me.” Bill leans back in his chair, tapping his pen on the edge of the desk.
“Like what?”
Carlos stinks of smoke as he sits back down. He quit smoking a year ago, but the stress of this case has turned him back to the need for nicotine. In the ten minutes that he stood outside the building, he smoked six cigarettes, one straight after the other.
It’s done nothing to calm his nerves.
“I need to know all the information from that night, and you cannot hold anything back from me. In the conversations between you and I, we’re covered by attorney-client privilege. As you have been through the legal system before, I’m sure you’re aware of it; however, I’ll go over it again to make sure you understand. The privilege allows us to have full and fran
k discussions about the case without the threat of myself, the attorney, being compelled to testify against you. This honest transfer of information will enable me to give you candid advice and effective representation. However, the privilege doesn’t cover us if the discussions are used to further crime. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Good. Then we’ll start with the facts. Your apartment was raided on September 12, and the police found $50,000 worth of heroin inside a briefcase in your apartment. There were no residents present at the time of the raid, so it’s assumed that the briefcase belonged to you. If the drugs weren’t yours, can you tell me who they belonged to?”
“No.” Carlos shakes his head.
“Then can you explain how the briefcase came to be in your apartment?”
“No, I don’t have an explanation for that. But I’ll tell you that it wasn’t mine. I didn’t put it there, and I had never seen that briefcase before in my life. It didn’t belong to me, and I was surprised by the police raid, and even more surprised when they arrested me.”
“Who else came into your apartment within the previous twenty-four hours?”
“Just myself and…” Carlos pauses before he answers the next question.
“Who?” Bill presses.
“My cousin.”
“Juan Lewis?”
“Yes. My cousin and I were the only people in that apartment within the previous twenty-four hours. That was nothing unusual. Lewis has been to my apartment many times over the years.” Carlos coughs loudly again; the years of smoking his greatest regret.
Bill pauses, drumming his fingers on the table. “First things first – we need an explanation of how that briefcase came to be in your apartment.”
Carlos’ voice rises as he presents his argument: “The police put it there. The guys that raided the place. They put it there. They had to. There is no other explanation.”
Bill has heard that statement many, many times before. It’s normal for a defendant to claim that he was set up, as they have seen it a hundred times on television, but in reality, it’s very rarely the case. He closes his eyes for a long moment and shakes his head slowly.
“Even if that was true and the police planted those drugs, that won’t help us in court. Nobody would believe it, and even if we had evidence to say that this was the truth, the prosecution would never let us win. If that sort of case looked like it was going to get through, we would have every level of government in the United States playing heavy on us. Nope. Sorry, Carlos. That isn’t a defense we can use.”
“They did it though. These guys are the real criminals. They planted it.”
“Even if they did, we can’t use it.” He pauses as a question runs through his mind. “But why would they do it to you? Why would they choose to set you up?”
“They were after Lewis.”
“Go on.”
“Juan and I used to be business associates. But I did my time for the crime. I went to prison, and it changed me. I committed a lot of crime before I went to prison, but after, I’m a changed man. I’ve been out nine years now, and I’ve never committed another crime. I’m out of that game. I know a lot of people come out of prison worse off, but not me. I’ve been out of the game a long time now, almost a decade.”
Bill usually wouldn’t believe a speech like that – he has heard that talk before – but there are two things about Carlos that convinces Bill he’s telling the truth.
Firstly, his eyes. Carlos’ eyes speak the truth.
Secondly, Carlos has spent the last nine years volunteering at the drug rehabilitation center in East L.A. His work there has been tireless, and he has done it all without a cent of pay. He has poured his life savings into supporting The East Rehabilitation Center and even has a room named in his honor. Bill visited the center as part of the previous case, and all the staff raved about the work that Carlos does. He has changed lives for the better.
It’s clear to Bill that Carlos is a reformed man, working hard to make up for the mistakes of his past.
“I know that you spend your time volunteering with drug addicts, trying to get them back on the right path—”
“I love it. It’s my calling. It’s what I was meant to do with my life. I’ve done a lot of evil in the past, but this is my redemption for all my past evils. I was meant to help these people out and make their lives better. When I was trafficking drugs, I caused a lot of pain to a lot of people. I didn’t know that then, but I can see that now. Back then, it was all about the money to me. I wanted more of it. All of it. I couldn’t get enough money, but that led to me getting caught and being sent to prison.”
“You carry a lot of guilt for dealing drugs?”
“Absolutely. I watched a friend’s son wither away from addiction just before I went to prison. That changed me. Watching someone’s child die because of something you deliver is heart-wrenching. My decisions destroyed many, many lives. I might not have pulled the trigger, but I killed people. I’ll never forgive myself for putting drugs on the street, but the best I can do is work hard so that other people don’t have to watch their children go through the same thing.”
“That’s a touching story, Carlos. I might get you to talk about that story in more detail if we decide to put you on the stand. Would there be people at the rehabilitation center that would testify to your good character?”
“Of course. We’re a family there.”
In horribly messy handwriting, Bill scribbles notes on his pad. He used to worry that the client might be able to see what he’s writing, but he has since realized that it takes a non-trained eye many minutes to decipher what he has written. “So you think the police were after Juan Lewis?”
“Lewis made the mistake of making the wrong people angry. He thinks he’s invincible sometimes, but he annoyed some of his high-powered connections. So they wanted to grab him for a crime and put him away for a very long time. That’s what the police were going for. They didn’t want me; they wanted Lewis.”
“What I don’t understand, if that was the case, is why they would have planted the drugs in your apartment? Why not plant the drugs in Lewis’ apartment?”
“Because his world is tightly controlled. He has hidden video cameras everywhere. They know that. If they tried to plant drugs at his home, he would have been able to prove that they did it. So they planted it at my apartment, which he owns, when they expected that he would have been there. They thought we were in the apartment, that’s why they did it.”
“So you’re saying that they raided your apartment on the notion that Lewis was present?” Bill raises his pen in the air to make a point. “But he wasn’t there. I doubt the police would make a mistake like that, especially if they were trying to set him up.”
“We were supposed to be in there. They saw us enter the apartment, but they didn’t see us leave. We left by the laundry window to the parking lot next door.” Carlos leans forward to make his point. “You see. They thought we were in the apartment.”
“Why would you leave via the laundry window?”
Carlos hesitates. “Because.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what we decided to do.”
“Sounds very implausible.”
“It’s the truth.”
Dropping his pen, Bill doesn’t press any further. His client believes what he’s saying is true, but has no evidence to prove it. He may have convinced himself of the reasons for the raid, but a personal belief isn’t enough to win a case.
Whether the drugs belonged to Lewis, or Carlos, or the cops, isn’t Bill’s concern. His concern is only how he can do his job; how he can win the case.
He stands, turns to his large window, and looks at the streets below. He loves this view of his city. He loves feeling like he’s in the middle of the action in America’s second largest city.
“Tell me, Carlos, why keep your connections to Juan Lewis? He’s known to still be a big-time dealer in your part of L.A. You’re obv
iously passionate about drug rehabilitation, but your cousin is the one causing people to become addicted. If you know he’s causing pain still, why keep that close bond?”
Carlos shrugs, looking away at the wall. “Lewis and I are family. We’ve known each other our whole lives. We came across the border together as kids from Mexico and everything we did, we did it together. We’re a team. Always have been. We’re family, and although our lives have now taken different paths, we’re still brothers at heart.”
“Until you got caught.”
“If Lewis could have gone to prison for me, he would have. You can’t end a bond like that overnight. Lewis and I still talk most days of the week – and most days I tell him to get out of the game. But he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he wasn’t ‘Juan Lewis – The Boss’. He’s stuck in that life. And that’s ok. I turn a blind eye to that for my family.” Looking around Bill’s spacious office, he’s surprised by the size and width of it. “Did you read all these books?”
“At one point or another, yes, I’ve read all these books. On one wall, they’re all law books, on the other wall is psychology books. They’re not light fiction.”
“You like reading about psychology?”
“Human behavior fascinates me. I love watching a person react to hard questions. It tells so much than words.”
Carlos squirms with the uncomfortable notion. The first half of his life was built on lies. It was a life of drug dealing and surviving. Truth only got in the way of his success.
“They weren’t mine. That’s the honest truth,” Carlos states again, trying to convince his lawyer of his truth. “How can I even be charged when the drugs weren’t in my possession? They haven’t proved that I was with those drugs, have they? I wasn’t carrying them at the time. Isn’t that what you can say?”
Most criminals deny their guilt.
Even the ones who have been caught on camera deny their guilt until they realize there is no use fighting. Half of Bill’s job as a defense attorney is to get innocent clients off, and the other half of his job is to get the best deal for the ones that have no chance of getting off.
Redeeming Justice_A Legal Thriller Page 2
