She wanted to talk, and she pulled Thaddeus inside the attorney conference room.
They sat on opposite sides of the conference table; she removed a high heel and began massaging her foot. “I’m twenty-eight and I have bunions,” she announced.
“Sorry,” said Thad. “Never been down that road myself.”
“Look. Your guy will eventually die of AIDS. That much is known. He sold a small amount, you’ve made your point that he lacked the discretion to sell, under the statute. It’s a point well taken but you’re not going to get a not-guilty for your efforts.”
“Agree,” he said.
“So let’s split the difference. Your guy pleads to a misdemeanor, simple possession, no jail, one year probation, and we all go home and soak our feet.”
“Sounds good. Let’s do it.”
And just like that—poof!—it was over.
They entered the plea of guilty to a simple possession, waived pre-trial investigation, the judge approved the oral plea but wanted one in writing for the file, Bat was put on one year probation, ordered to pay $350 to the Victims Fund, and told to never come back in that same court.
Bat said he had learned his lesson.
Everyone headed for the door. It was 3:20 in the afternoon, first day of trial.
Bat had the rest of the week off. Thaddeus had two more days off.
* * *
The sun was out, not a cloud, and people were dressed in shorts, sandals, and tees, life was a lark and a dream. Bat had escaped with his life.
“Let’s find a Starbucks where we can sit outside,” Thaddeus suggested.
“I see the green and white sign on the opposite corner.”
They purchased their drinks and took their seats outside, on the sidewalk, behind a low white fence, beneath a red and blue umbrella. Life was glorious and they tasted their iced drinks. Life was magnificent and everlasting, they agreed.
“So what’s this about college?”
Bat’s eyes got wide and a smile took over his face. He cheerfully explained how his girlfriend Maria Consuelo didn’t want him to settle for being a waiter the rest of his life. She had asked him what he really loved to do. He had said he wanted to be like Thaddeus. He wanted to wear suit clothes, work in an office, and save people from the cops.
“That’s it? You want to me like me?”
“I could do worse,” Bat observed.
“So you really, really want to do this.”
“More than anything. Except I want to marry Maria, too. If she’ll have me.”
“She’ll have you. I’ve got a feeling about that.”
“Hope so.”
“So look, Bat, let’s do this. You come to work for me as an investigator. You don’t need a license to work for me privately. I’ll pay you forty thousand a year, and you’ll have two hours every afternoon for studies. We do this while you take your classes and decide if this is what you really want. You’ve been away from school since forever and it might turn out you hate it. Or maybe you’ll love it. No one really knows right now. When you start law school you’ll get a raise on the condition that you come to work for me for three years when you graduate law school. How am I doing so far?”
Bat’s eyes clouded with tears. “No shit? You’d do that for me?”
“Hey, I need an investigator, someone with street smarts. There isn’t anyone can outdo you in that department. It makes perfect sense.”
“Would I have to carry a gun?”
“Why, you want to carry a gun?”
“Hell no.”
“No guns. We’re not out to shoot anybody.”
“I just know about those BAG guys following you all over. They’re carrying.”
“That’s a whole different job. No, you would wear a suit and tie every day, dress the part, have your own office, set your own hours, and pretty much figure out how to get your assignments done. Come work for me. You know me, you know it’s a win-win.”
Bat took a long drink of the iced latte and nodded. “Done. When do I start?”
“You’ve got to give the casino a week’s notice. Call them today and you can start next Monday.”
“But I’m off all week. They don’t expect me anyway.”
“Call them anyway. It’s good business. Might as well get you used to that.”
“Hey, they love me over there.”
“I’m sure they do, Bat, I’m sure they do.”
Whereupon Bat removed his glass eye, polished it with a napkin, and squeezed it back in its socket.
“There are a few refinements we’ll have to make in your style,” Thaddeus said. “But they’ll come, they’ll come.”
They shook on the deal and went back to sipping and enjoying the day and the beautiful Las Vegas women leisurely strolling by.
43
Bat reviewed the Kiki Murphy police report the first day in his new office.
He was dressed in a brand new seersucker summer suit, pale blue shirt, and yellow tie, and had washed and rebraided his hair. He looked like a million bucks. Thaddeus told him so, and Sparky agreed.
Sparky was glad to have another “working stiff” around, like him, someone he could BS with and have lunch with and bounce things off.
Bat got his new network name and password, and signed up for the courses on Internet and Word that Thaddeus had located for him. Soon he was surfing the web and his world was suddenly three universes larger. He loved Google, loved Angry Birds, and found artwork for his own Facebook page. He invited Katy to join him on Facebook and she accepted. He now had one friend. But there would be more, he knew, lots more.
Finishing up his computer course work for novice computer users, he spread open the Kiki Murphy police report on his desk. Thaddeus wanted the statement of the surviving attacker. The guy’s address was Ohio and Bat had to look Ohio up on MapQuest to even figure out where it was. Toledo, he found right away. He sent Thaddeus an email. “Attacker #2 lives Toledo. Do I go there to statementize him?”
Thaddeus emailed back. “See how far you can get with him on a phone call. Don’t forget, he’s been charged with misdemeanor assault on Kiki, so he won’t be friendly.”
“Got it,” Bat emailed back.
Now to find the guy’s phone number.
The Internet found a white pages listing for the witness-defendant. Trouble was, it cost $19.95 on People Finder to get the creep’s number.
“I need a credit card,” he emailed Thaddeus.
Who emailed back, “Use your debit card.”
“I don’t have a bank account, no debit card.”
“Go open one. Get a debit card.”
Bat did as he was told. He was back in the office in time to take his afternoon break with Sparky.
It was a warm, early-summer day, temperature reaching the nineties, and they decided to walk.
They hit Panera’s, inhaled soup and sandwiches, and then went for a march around the downtown. They talked and exchanged ideas and lies, and Sparky suggested the type of questions Bat would want to ask Linden Morrow, the witness in Toledo.
They ended up buying iced drinks to take back to work, and returned to their offices.
Bat used his temporary debit card online. It produced a phone number and address for Linden Morrow. The address matched the one on the police report. So far, so good, he told himself. He sat down and began writing the questions he would ask, on a yellow pad. Then he dialed the number and waited.
The voice sounded sleepy. “’Lo.”
“Linden Morrow?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Billy Tattinger. I’m calling from the Murfee Law Group in Las Vegas.”
“I already have a lawyer.”
“We don’t want to be your lawyer. We’re already the lawyer for Kiki Murphy.”
“Kiki? You’re her lawyer?”
“My boss is. Uh—do you know her?”
“I do. We did.”
“So how come you attacked her?”
“Nobody w
as attacking nobody. We run up to her to catch up. We run up and each of us grabbed an arm to walk with her. We was friends.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Man, what you trying to pull? It’s those goddamn cops out there. They’re trying to make me look some kind of pervert, attacking Kiki. She was married to my cousin. Don’t that make her family to me?”
“I don’t know about that. Look, I’m brand new here. I’m just a poor guy trying to do my job.”
“I was gonna say. You don’t sound very bright. Like someone only turned on one switch.”
“Thanks. Look, would you mind if I recorded your statement about what happened?”
“Yep, I mind. I already gave my statement. To the cops. Night Lamont got shot.”
“I don’t have that. How about if I just go over some things and switch the recorder on while we’re talking. It don’t sound to me like you’ve got anything to worry about. Being it was family.”
“I guess. Turn it on, if it gets you wet.”
“It does. It does get me wet.”
Bat attached the phone pickup to the earpiece and switched on the recorder. “Okay,” he said, “I’ve got the recorder turned on.”
“Knock yourself out. What’d you say your name was?”
“Billy Tattinger. Everyone calls me Bat.”
“Okay, Bat. How can I help you?”
“Let me ask. You know I’m recording this?”
“I do now.”
“And I’m recording with your permission?”
“Hey, I got nothing to hide. Record away.”
“About the night Lamont got shot. That was your cousin, Lamont Alexandr?”
“It was. Married to one Kiki Murphy. She shot him down in cold blood.”
“All right. What were you doing there that night?”
“Doing where?”
“Well—the casino. What were you there for?”
“Shit, that’s a no-brainer. We was there to gamble.”
“And you two were playing cards?”
“Blackjack.”
“Were you playing with Kiki?”
“No. No way. She and Lamont was separated. She didn’t even see us at first. Then we caught up with her at the high-rollers table. She was pissed but she did ask Lamont if he was getting on all right.”
“Why would she ask him that?”
“He was moved back to Ohio. For drug rehab.”
“But he was married to Kiki?”
“Well, that’s what he told me.”
Bat frowned, his mahogany forehead pressed hard against his hand while he talked into the receiver. “Lamont told you he was married to Kiki?”
“He told me. ’Course I never seen a license or nothing. How was I to know? He was my cousin, I believed him.”
“But he definitely knew her?”
“He played football at UCLA. She knew him there. They dated and then she started fooling around with some other guy. But they was married. At least he said so.”
“Do you know why she shot him?”
“She was pissed at him showing up there, I guess.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“No, I’m just guessing now. Is the recorder still on?”
“Yes. With your permission.”
“I want it off now.”
“Why? You want me to turn it off?”
“I feel like I’m just saying stuff that was told to me. I don’t really know much that was for sure. But when she pulled that gun out, I stopped right there and raised my hands. She didn’t look happy and I wasn’t about to come any closer.”
“You actually saw the gun?”
“Well—actually I heard the gun. I guess you could say. Did I ever actually see it? Probably not. But I saw the smoke come out and saw my cousin get shot. After that, I wasn’t looking.”
“What were you looking at instead?”
“Man, I had my eyes closed hard. Figured the next shot was for me and I didn’t want to see it.”
“Fair enough. So you never actually saw the gun?”
“Like I said, I saw the fire come out the barrel. It was night and the barrel just kind of exploded. Next thing I know, Lamont goes down to his knees and then topples to his side. I open my eyes and seen that part of it.”
“I’m still recording, is that all right?”
“I guess. I’m done anyway. I ain’t got nothing more to say.”
“What happened after your cousin was shot?”
“Nothing. I mean we just stood there looking at each other. Then she started crying. She dropped her purse, put her face in her hands, and started crying.”
“Did she say anything?”
“She said ‘No, no, no, no’ about two hundred times. And sobbing. Like hard. You know how women can cry.”
“I know how men can cry too. Did you cry?”
“I was too scared. I just didn’t move. I didn’t want her shooting me.”
“Did you see where the gun was when she was crying with her face in her hands?”
“No. But I wasn’t looking for the gun. I was hoping the cops got there. Just waiting and praying for the cops to show.”
“Did they?”
“In less than three minutes. First two young Mexican cops, then the place was swarming. EMTs showed up and wanted to know was I okay. Cops took me and put me in a squad. Asked me an hour’s worth of questions.”
“Did you go to jail?”
“No, they gave me a citation to appear in Justice Court.”
“Did you appear?”
“I did. I paid a three-hundred-dollar fine and it was dropped to disturbing the peace. I’m done with out there, man. I ain’t never coming back to Vegas. I’ll go to Atlantic City or one of them Indian joints, but no more Vegas. Not for this boy.”
“Okay, well, I think that’s all my questions. Anything else you want to add?”
“Yeah, I hope they throw the switch on that crazy broad. She deserves to go down for this. Killing my cousin and all.”
“All right. I’m turning the machine off now. And this was done with your permission?”
“Like I said, I got nothing to hide. Didn’t do nothing wrong except get the hell scared out of me.”
“Okay. We’re done then.”
“Goodbye then.”
“Goodbye.”
Bat stirred his iced drink with the straw. He realized he’d been sweating in the interview and his underarms were soaked. But none of that stuff mattered anymore. He had taken a statement and he knew it was an important one. He wanted to immediately play it back for Thaddeus.
But first he would play it for Sparky. He would see if Sparky thought he left anything out, in case he needed to call the guy back, before going to Thaddeus.
But wasn’t it remarkable? he thought. The guy never saw the gun. And hadn’t Thaddeus said something about the gun being in the purse when it went off?
It was important, what he had.
He was certain of it.
He took another drink and leaned back in his brand new leather chair.
This was going to be a barrel of monkeys. Plus, he was earning $40K a year. Much more than he would ever make waiting tables or selling drugs. The best part? Nobody was waiting to throw your ass in jail for doing what you were doing to survive.
There just might be something to this walking straight.
44
Katy was strolling the aisles at the Safeway store and Ragman was two steps behind.
She hadn’t noticed him, of course. He was too slick for that.
Sarai was riding in the cart, reaching for every box of cereal they passed, and crying real tears each time her mother told her no.
“It’s past your naptime, young lady,” her mother said.
Ragman was at her elbow, looking at a box of corn flakes, reading the ingredients, to all outward appearances making up his mind about a possible purchase.
She never noticed him.
She turned in her coupons—a colleg
e habit that was slow to die and maybe never would—then handed over her debit card. The purchase was rung up and she headed for the door.
When she passed through the pneumatic door into the Las Vegas summer time heat, she didn’t notice the man outside, smoking, minding his own business.
Nor did she suspect anything when he followed her to the Escalade. She was putting the groceries in the back, and he was standing across the parking lane, smoking. His back was to her, but he was watching every move out of his mirrored sunglasses. He now knew her car, the license number, where she shopped, and how far from home she was.
He followed her home and would watch as she unloaded the car. He would pay particular attention to what she first took inside: little girl or groceries. Just as she was about to open her own door and get out, the garage door closed behind her.
“Damn,” Ragman muttered.
He decided to give it two hours and then return. In another vehicle, of course, something they’d never seen in their neighborhood before.
Sooner or later, someone would walk up to the front door and punch the code into the keypad.
He wanted to be there for that.
45
Kroc and Magence were working late. Again.
It was the third night in a row, and they were carefully reviewing and re-reviewing the video records of the casino count room. It was beginning to look like they had been made fools of.
“They’re running over and over, aren’t they,” said Magence. It wasn’t a question.
“I think so. I think someone has intercepted our feed and they’re showing us like a month at a time of the same videos. The same recordings.”
“We’ve been had.”
“How did they know?” he said.
“Duh. Maybe it was the badges and guns when we went in and took over and installed the cameras. Someone just might have gotten suspicious.”
“How would you have done it any differently?” he said, challenging her.
“Hey, don’t get your feathers ruffled. I’m not saying I would have done it any differently. We didn’t really have any other way. They guard that room twenty-four/seven/three-sixty-five. We did what we could.”
Attorney at Large (Thaddeus Murfee Legal Thriller Series Book 3) Page 21
