by Carl Weber
The night before the motion was to be heard by the judge, I was sitting in my father’s hospital room, prepping for a case, when a particular piece of case law struck me. The more I read, the more it dawned on me that I could not only turn the case around for my boss, but I could win it—and a lot of other cases for our side. I immediately called Bradley and asked him to meet me at a nearby coffee shop so I could run it by him.
“I don’t really know about that,” Bradley said when I shared my thoughts about the case. “Bruce’s lawyer is pretty savvy.”
“There’s case law backing us up, Brad. In Hunt v. the United States, the Supreme Court sided with the government. It might be a Prohibition case, but it’s still on the books,” I explained.
“It’s too risky, man.” Bradley shook his head. “If you’re wrong, the AG’s office is going to bounce us out of here right along with Schaefer and his cronies. We’re just starting to get our own caseloads. Hell, you have a trial tomorrow.”
“Brad, you know I’m not a risk taker, but I’m telling you, it’s worth the risk. We pull Schaefer’s butt out of this fire and we can write our own ticket around this place.”
I could see the idea of having the U.S. attorney beholden to us was appealing to him, but he wasn’t a hundred percent on board yet.
“Maybe, but I’d like to do a little research of my own before presenting it to Schaefer. It’s possible there are other relevant cases that came up after that ruling.”
“I guess,” I said, feeling kind of deflated.
“What about Jackie? Did you run this by her?” he asked.
“No, she’s at the office, working on some white-collar case for David Nugent. You were the first person I thought of. I mean, Jackie’s smart, but she’s more of the paper-pushing type,” I said.
“You know, James, for someone so smart, you’re a lot more naïve than I thought.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What makes you think Jackie’s a paper pusher? She’s a damn good lawyer, and very ambitious. If I ever start my own firm, she’s the first person I’d want as my partner.”
“Thanks,” I said coldly.
“Stop acting like a baby. You already said you don’t want to go into private practice. But for the record, I say we bring Jackie in on this.”
“No,” I refused flatly.
“Why not?”
“If this happens to work, it will propel her career into something I won’t be able to control. Once we get married, she’s not going to be doing much of this type of work anyway. She’ll be taking care of our house and kids.”
He shook his head. “Man, you can’t control a woman like her.”
“Watch me,” I said defiantly. “So, are you in? Are we going to talk to Schaefer tomorrow?”
“I think so, but why don’t we head on down to the office and do the research?”
“I gotta stick around here and see my old man. He ain’t got much time. You take a look and let me know what you think,” I said. “If you want to draw up a response, I’ll head down to the office and meet you.”
“Sure thing. If it bears any fruit, we’ll present it to Schaefer together in the morning.”
I left that meeting feeling good about our prospects for success on the case, not to mention our prospects for career advancement. Bradley was exceptionally smart, and I valued his opinion. If he looked at the case law and thought it was a dud, I’d leave it alone, but I was pretty sure he’d be calling to tell me I was right.
Well, I never got a call that night. When I arrived at work the next day, I didn’t see Bradley, but I figured I would talk to him as soon as I came back from my scheduled court appearance. I got my paperwork together and went to the courthouse, where I won at trial. It wasn’t a big case, but it was my first, and it felt good. My day went downhill fast after that.
I went back to the office just in time for everyone to be summoned into a meeting. The speculation was that Schaefer would announce that the Fat Bruce case had been dismissed and he’d been fired. So, we were all surprised when he walked into the room followed by his chief of staff Greg Williamson. Bradley and Jackie came in with them too. They were all wearing smiles.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Schaefer said, “I’m happy to announce that Fat Bruce Farrow’s motion to dismiss has been denied, and he has accepted a plea agreement of twenty years in federal prison.”
The entire office exploded in cheers—except for me, because I was wondering how this miraculous event happened, and even more so, why my best friend and girlfriend were up there to celebrate with the bosses. Schaefer started speaking again, and I got my answer.
He held up a hand to quiet the room, and said, “Before I take all the credit, let me give some praise to the two individuals that made this happen.” Schaefer graciously waved his hand toward my supposed comrades. “Bradley Hudson and Jacqueline Cooper, whose written response to the defendant’s motion, based on case law from Hunt v. the United States, was so thorough that we are submitting it to the Law Journal for publication.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut as I stood there staring in disbelief at Bradley and Jackie. There was applause and whistling for the shit I had shared with Bradley the night before. Everyone began talking about him and Jackie like they were heroes. Meanwhile, Bradley soaked up the praise without a hint of shame. He didn’t even glance in my direction.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I went over to pull him aside and discuss it. But Bradley turned his back when he saw me coming, and then Schaefer called him over to a group of more senior lawyers, looking like he was introducing a candidate for mayor. I knew I wouldn’t be able to confront him until this impromptu office party was over.
But I did get to Jackie, pulling her out of the room into a small office.
“What the fuck was that? You two just stole my idea and took it to Schaefer?” I was livid.
“Calm down, James,” she snapped. “We didn’t steal anything from you. And let’s be clear. You didn’t write one word of that response. We spent most of the night writing it.”
I was confused by her coldness. This was not the woman I thought I knew. “Why didn’t that son of a bitch Bradley call me?”
“Because I told him not to,” she said with undisguised contempt. “He wanted to, but you wouldn’t have wanted me there.”
“He told you that?” I asked, trying not to look guilty.
“No, he didn’t have to. From the day we met, I’ve tried to help you in any way possible. Did everything a supportive woman would do for her man. And in return, all you’ve done is try to hold me back. Well, not anymore you don’t.” She took off her ring and handed it to me. “Me and you, we are through.”
I stared at her for a brief moment as my anger evolved into pure rage. I grabbed her arm and squeezed. “You fucked him, didn’t you? You fucked Bradley?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” she said, pulling herself free and walking away.
I watched her disappear into the meeting room then glanced down at the engagement ring in my hand. Staring at it for a few moments, I tried unsuccessfully to hold back tears.
Half out of my mind, I ran back into the meeting area and searched for Bradley. I charged at him, knocking Schaefer down in the process. “You son of a bitch!” While he was on the floor, I punched him in the eye, then rained down blows around his head and chest. I wanted to see blood.
“James! James! You’re gonna kill him!” I could hear Jackie screaming, but I didn’t stop for fear that if I did, I would aim my attack at her.
Bradley tried to block the blows to his body and face, but I was still able to land quite a few. Over and over I hit him, until finally, they pulled me off. Jacqueline’s eyes met mine briefly, and then she stepped past me and rushed to Bradley.
I closed my eyes and slumped to the floor, unable to move. And then, security arrived and took me away. I was arrested and charged with assault. Luckily, the charges were dropped, but of course,
I lost my job.
Both Bradley and Jackie were thrust into national cases, where they thrived, making headlines and being quickly and frequently promoted. He and Jacqueline married, had children, and began living the life that she and I had planned. They finally left the US attorney’s office five years later to open their own very successful law practice. I wound up working Legal Aid for fifteen years before someone finally took a chance and hired me at the Staten Island DA’s office. I vowed that one day, karma would arrive and be served to Bradley Hudson on a silver platter. That day had finally arrived.
I finished showering then slipped into my bedroom and got dressed. I could hear Jackie singing, and the smell of eggs and bacon filled my nostrils. When I walked into the kitchen, she frowned.
“You’re dressed already? I thought we’d have round two after we ate breakfast.”
“I’m not going to have time to eat. And there won’t be another round. I’m sorry. I have a huge case I’m working on. I’m sure you know that already.”
She froze for a second, and I was satisfied, knowing I’d hit my mark. Then, she pulled herself together and put on a neutral face as she stepped closer to me. “But, James.”
I took a step back, out of her reach. “You need to get dressed so you can leave,” I said, looking at the stove. She had prepared two perfect plates. Although I was starving, I wasn’t going to eat.
“Are you really going to act like this?”
“Act like what?” I asked.
“Like last night didn’t happen. I mean, I thought we could at least talk.”
“Talk about what? We don’t have anything to discuss. I certainly hope you don’t think what happened last night would have some type of bearing on your son’s case, Jacqueline. You’re a sitting judge, for God’s sake. You wouldn’t dare risk your position—or mine, I hope.”
“No, not at all,” she quickly said. “But, James, my son’s life is in your hands. I’m begging you to consider—”
“I’m considering the evidence that my office has against him. That’s all,” I told her.
“What am I supposed to do?” Tears formed in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. I was almost tempted to wipe them away. “I can’t have my son go away. It’s twenty years, for God’s sake.”
“Jacqueline, my advice to you is that you need to prepare,” I said, stuffing any tenderness I felt for her deep down inside.
“Prepare for what?” she asked.
“Prepare yourself and your son, because he and his friends are going to jail for a very long time.” I turned and walked away before I crumbled. I felt bad because, in all honesty, this had nothing to do with her. I had forgiven her. However, Bradley Hudson deserved every bad thing that was getting ready to happen to his family.
Bradley
43
“Mr. Hudson! Mr. Hudson! Do you think anything meaningful will come out of today’s hearing?” a lone reporter asked me as Desiree and I ascended the courthouse steps. Usually, they swarmed my car the moment Ernie pulled up to the curb, but other than this reporter and his cameraman, the media was ignoring me.
I stopped and turned to answer the question. “This is just a hearing, but I’m sure there’ll be a few surprises today. However, we will make our case in the courtroom, not in the media. Thank you.” I turned back toward the courthouse entrance and continued to climb the steps.
“Looks like you have competition, Dad.” Desiree pointed to our right at the top of the steps, where James appeared to be giving a press briefing.
“Don’t be insulting. That man’s never been my competition in anything,” I said. It was true that James had never been my equal, but it didn’t make me any less agitated as I watched him holding the spotlight over there.
“Well, at least we know where the media went to,” she joked.
“Yes, I guess they’re sick of talking to me.” I pulled out my cell and called my wife. “James Brown is having some type of news conference. It would be nice if I knew what he was talking about before we start this hearing.”
“Your wish is my command, my love. Put in your earpiece when you get in the courtroom, and I’ll give you a rundown in the next five minutes or so.”
“Thanks, babe,” I said as Desiree and I entered the building and walked down the hall to the courtroom.
I sat beside Desiree. On the other side of her, already seated, was Kenneth Kimba, Kwesi’s attorney. He was looking rather foolish in a sweater vest and colorful bowtie. Lamont, who had written the motion we were about to be heard on, had decided to stay at the office and sulk like a baby because I’d made his sister second chair instead of him. I didn’t have the time or the patience for his nonsense, so I just left him behind. Meanwhile, on the other side of the aisle, ADA David Carpenter sat alone, until James Brown final strutted down the aisle and took a seat next to him. He leaned over and whispered something in Carpenter’s ear, and the two of them began laughing. I just hoped the joke wasn’t on me.
“If we’re lucky, this should be wrapped up by lunchtime, don’t you think, Daddy?” Desiree whispered.
“We can only hope, dear,” I answered, my eyes remaining straight ahead as I put in my wireless two-way earpiece. I loved the damn thing, because judges never question a man of my age with a hearing aid, so I could get real-time information form Carla and her people on the third floor without pissing off the judge.
“Testing one, two, three,” I said.
“Hello, my dear.” Carla’s voice rang in my ear.
“So, what was James up to?” I asked.
“Nothing really. Same old BS about all he wants is justice for the people of Staten Island. The usual.”
“That’s what I thought. Everything okay at the shop?”
“Other than Lamont moping around like he’s lost his best friend, yeah, everything’s fine.”
“He’ll be okay,” I said.
“The two of you should talk when you get back. Clear the air. He’s smart and has some great ideas.”
“I know he’s smart—sometimes too smart for his own good—but Lamont has to understand that I’m the managing partner. I know what I’m doing,” I said with finality.
“I understand what you’re doing with Desiree, but you should explain it to him. After all, you may be the managing partner, but he is a partner.”
“Lamont’s a big boy, darling. He’ll be okay. These are all teaching moments,” I said as I watched Kimba get up from his seat. “What is this clown doing?”
“What’s going on?” Carla asked.
I drummed my fingers on the table to get Desiree’s attention.
“Kwesi’s attorney just got up and is headed toward the DA’s table,” I explained to my wife. I watched as he casually strolled over to the other side and began speaking with David and James.
“Why is he doing that?” Carla asked as Desiree and I exchanged a concerned glance.
“I don’t know,” I replied to my wife; then I leaned over to Desiree and whispered, “What the hell is that about?”
“I have no clue.” The frustration on Desiree’s face was evident. “Should I go over and find out?”
“No, let them talk. Mr. Kimba isn’t the brightest of legal minds. If there’s a play to be made, James will be the one to make it.” I raised my hand to my mouth casually, so that no one could read my lips. “Carla, honey, I need you to have someone hack into Mr. Kimba’s email. Let’s find out what kind of correspondence he and the DA’s office are having.”
“I’m on it. Let me have someone log into a foreign IP. I’ll get back to you on it as soon as I can. Just holler if you need me.”
“All rise!” the bailiff announced, and Kimba made his way back to the defense table as the judge walked in. “State of New York versus Langston Hudson, Anthony Baker, Kirby Wright, and Kwesi Adomako, the Honorable Juan Rodriguez presiding,” the bailiff read off.
I watched as my son was escorted into the room, along with Tony, Kwesi, and Krush. The formalities and charges we
re read, and then we all moved to take our seats. Judge Rodriguez held up his hand to indicate that he hadn’t finished reading the file he’d begun flipping through once he sat down. He didn’t take his eyes off the file, even as he slowly put his hand back down.
“Court, you may be seated,” the bailiff finally said.
“James Brown for the State, Your Honor.”
“Bradley and Desiree Hudson for the defense.”
“Kenneth Kimba, also for the defense, Your Honor.”
After a few moments, the judge removed his reading glasses and focused his attention on the courtroom. “Okay, gentlemen, and lady, we are supposed to be choosing a date for trial, but I have read your motion, Mr. Hudson, and it would make sense to at least address it now.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” I said.
“So, it appears that you feel a change of venue would more fairly serve your clients.” The judge looked at me directly, and I could tell our motion had already been sunk before he’d even taken his seat. “That about sums it up, doesn’t it?”
“Well, to be fair, I—”
“It’s a simple question, Mr. Hudson.” The judge sounded testy as he stared at me over the rim of his glasses. “Save all the dramatics and courtroom antics for the actual trial. I need not be entertained at this point.”
I suppressed a weary sigh. I’d seen this kind of judge before. Some of them seemed to hate lawyers, forgetting that once upon a time they’d been lawyers themselves, and technically still were. I’d never understood that mentality.
