by Carl Weber
“Get the fuck outta here!” I shouted.
Michael and I looked at each other briefly before we both turned our bodies toward the back.
“Did you have it tested against the dope that was found in the car?” I asked. This man had just made my dick hard with this information. “Did it come from the same stash?”
“Right now, I’m not sure. It’s still being processed, and they’re keeping a close eye on it. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out something, but it’s gonna take some finagling to get a sample from both labs to confirm,” Nate said. “Adonis was arrested by the Feds, and you know how they feel about sharing information with locals. So far, nobody has made the connection.”
“Nate, I’m gonna need you to work your fucking magic and get those samples as soon as possible. You know I’m gonna take care of you for all your hard work,” I assured him.
“I got you, Perk. I’m a little curious myself,” he said, looking me right in the eye so I could see he meant it. I’d known Nate long enough to know he wasn’t a bullshitter. If he promised to make something happen, he would do everything in his power to do that. If something failed, it damn sure wasn’t for lack of trying.
He opened the car door and stepped out. “Listen, I gotta get back to work. I’ll reach out in a couple of days.”
“Hit me up anytime,” I told him then watched him jog away.
“Who the fuck was that? He looks like a pedophile,” Michael commented.
“That, my friend, is one of the finest crime scene specialists the NYPD Crime Scene Unit has working for them,” I answered casually, as if Nate owned a hot dog stand on the corner.
“That guy’s with CSU?”
“Yep, for twenty years.”
“What the hell? From what I just saw, it looks like he works for you,” Michael said, sounding surprised and a little impressed.
“Sometimes, but his main gig is with CSU.” I started the truck engine. “Sure, I give Nate a few bucks here and there, but he’ll never compromise his integrity.”
“So, what’s our next step? I’m sure the boss is going to be happy to find out it was Tony’s drugs in the car.” Michael nodded.
“No, he’s not, because we’re not going to tell him just yet,” I said. “I’ll tell him I’m working on a major lead, but I won’t give him any specifics.”
“What? Why not? This is the break we’ve been looking for. Why wouldn’t you tell him?”
“It’s too early,” I explained patiently. He was, after all, just a rookie. “We gotta wait and see what the narcotics analysis determines. They might not have come from the same source, which would fuck up our case. Trust me, you don’t want to take anything to Bradley Hudson unless it’s concrete evidence. Something like this could blow up in your face.”
“Man, what are the odds of that heroin not coming from the same place? You need to tell him. This is the kind of thing that could create reasonable doubt for the other three,” Michael said excitedly. Although I appreciated his enthusiasm, my years of experience taught had taught me to proceed with caution.
“Calm down, grasshopper. You’re getting ahead of yourself. We’re not going to make any premature assumptions, because if you’re wrong, you’re gonna find yourself out of a job you just started.”
He thought about that for a minute then finally said, “Okay, I’m going to follow your lead, but I think we’re wasting valuable time.” He sat back and relaxed a little in his seat. “So, what about the stripper that Krush was with? Did you follow up on her?”
“Nah, she’s good. Everything checked out with her. Her building has a video surveillance system. I watched the tape. She didn’t do it,” I told him. “She was just a chick that happened to be there that night.”
“So, where to now?” Michael asked.
“How about lunch? For some reason, I’m craving hot dogs.” I laughed as we pulled off.
James
46
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I looked up and saw Grace Frazier, the district attorney for Richmond County, New York, standing in the doorway of my office. We’d worked together back in my days in the U.S. attorney’s office, and she’d been responsible for bringing me to the Staten Island DA’s office fifteen years ago. I had to give it to her; she was a formidable colleague and a decent supervisor when she had my job. She’d always been fair, well respected, and approachable, but she was also no nonsense and knowledgeable when it came to the law. Most folks underestimated her because she looked more like a librarian than a powerful attorney, but they quickly learned that she was a force to reckoned with. Her ferocity in the courtroom had once earned her the nickname “Grace Under Fire.” But Grace barely entered the courtroom these days, after winning the office of district attorney.
“Since when did you start knocking, boss?” I asked with a friendly smile.
She shrugged and walked in. “I overheard one of the newbies saying something about me barging into her office, so I decided that maybe I should work on my office manners.”
“I swear, these millennials complain about every damn thing. I heard one of them complaining that we didn’t have two recycle bins in the break room beside the regular trash can, because it should be one for paper and one for plastic to make it easier for people.” I shook my head. “So, what’s up?”
“Just checking in and seeing how things are going with the Hudson case,” Grace said.
“Going fine. I’m going over trial notes now,” I told her. “No worries. I’m gonna nail the son of a bitch.”
“Trial notes? Isn’t that a little presumptive?” Grace took a seat in front of my desk. “Are we really taking this to trial?”
“That’s the plan. I’m going to nail these sons of bitches, Grace,” I said adamantly.
“Of that I have no doubt, but have you talked to Hudson about a plea?”
I swallowed hard. Truth was, I hadn’t talked to Hudson at all, other than to offer his son fifteen years, which I had known they would reject. “I tried to get the defendants to talk, and they wouldn’t budge.”
“That’s not what I asked, James.” She picked up the 1986 World Series ball I’d had signed by most of the New York Mets, studying the signatures on it.
“No, I haven’t talked to Hudson about a plea, but like I said, I’m prepared to go to trial and win big.”
“When is a win not a win, James?”
I didn’t know what this was about, so I shrugged my shoulders and played along. “I don’t know.”
“A win is not a win when I lose, because if I lose, we all lose,” she said firmly. “Are you following me?”
“Not exactly.”
“James, I don’t want this thing to go to trial. We need to make a deal and make this thing go away. I’ve got the borough president and half his cronies on my ass because you agreed to a change of venue,” Grace explained. “A change of venue you did not run by me, I might add. The last thing this office needs is the media frenzy that comes along whenever Bradley Hudson is involved. You were here during the Eric Garner fiasco. You know how the press can be.”
“That’s why I agreed to the change of venue—to get it off the island, so it wouldn’t come back to slap you, Grace.”
She shook her head. “You’re not hearing me. Do you have any idea how much this change of venue is going to cost the county? And with Bradley Hudson involved, it’s going to cost even more.”
“You’re starting to sound like a politician,” I replied.
“James, I am a politician. I didn’t get this job because I was the most qualified; I got this job because I got the most votes. I’ve had the NAACP and the ACLU presidents in my office this week, and Al Sharpton hating on me on TV, and I’m a damn Democrat in a Republican borough! Do you not understand who this man is?” She sighed heavily.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I was so sick of everyone acting like Bradley Hudson was the only talented lawyer in the state.
“I sure do. He’s a TV lawyer,”
I said. “I’m a prosecutor with a slam dunk case. I’m not intimidated by Bradley Hudson—or any of the rest of them. I’ve got justice on my side, and I’m ready.” I leaned back in my chair and finished with, “I’m glad he’s opposing counsel, and I’m not backing down from his ass.”
“This is an open and shut case. If it were anyone else sitting across the aisle, you would’ve already made a deal just to save the city the cost of a trial.” The way she said it let me know that she knew exactly what I was up to. “I’m starting to think this is personal for you. You’re trying to grandstand.”
“What? That’s not true at all,” I protested. “But I know Bradley, and I know that he wouldn’t accept a plea deal, so I didn’t waste my time or his trying to negotiate one.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out if he’ll take one or not, because he’s waiting for us in the conference room right now,” Grace said.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me. He’s in the conference room. Now, I want you to go in there and offer these boys three to five so we can wrap this thing up.”
I felt rage boiling deep inside. I couldn’t let her do this to me. I finally had the opportunity to whip Bradley Hudson’s ass fair and square in the courtroom, where he deserved to be whipped. It was my one and only chance to completely humiliate him, and she was trying to take it away.
“Three to five? That’s preposterous!” I yelled, then got myself under control and lowered the volume. “That means they’ll be out in two years. For two kilos of heroin, Grace?”
“These are four college students. You don’t even know which ones are guilty. Make the offer,” she said with a sigh.
“You do realize that this is my case, right?”
“And you realize that I’m the district attorney and every case in this office is my case, right?” She peered at me, then her eyes softened. “Listen, I get it. I was in the US attorney’s office back then. I was a newbie, probably the same age as that young-ass millennial that’s complaining about me now. But I remember the rumors about what Bradley and Jacqueline did to you.”
“They weren’t rumors,” I stated flatly.
“I get it. You’ve been in this office for damn near fifteen years, and you’re feeling like you settled. But you’re a damn good lawyer, James. You have nothing to prove—to me, Hudson, or anyone else.”
“This isn’t personal for me, Grace,” I lied.
“Maybe it isn’t, but I wouldn’t blame you if it was.” She stood up and gave me a pointed look. “But you had your fun; now it’s over.”
“So, are you gonna micromanage all of my cases?” I asked, closing the case file and following her out the door.
“Have I ever micromanaged you, James? But this is just as much my case as it is yours, and I want to make sure we’re both handling it without bias.”
I kept my mouth shut as we walked down the hall and entered the conference room, where Bradley and two of his children were seated across from Kenneth Kimba, who looked like a kid in a candy store.
“Grace, how wonderful to see you again.” Bradley wasted no time getting up and greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You’re still the most beautiful woman in the DA’s office. And the smartest.”
Grace laughed. “Bradley, it’s great to see you again too, and I’m flattered by your honesty.” The two of them were acting like old friends at a class reunion, rather than two lawyers at a meeting about a pending trial.
“This is my son Lamont, and my daughter, Desiree.” Bradley introduced them, then turned and added, “And our co-counsel, Mr. Kimba.”
“Nice to meet all of you,” Grace said warmly.
“Shall we chat?” Bradley asked, standing behind his chair at the head of the table.
It didn’t go unnoticed that he hadn’t greeted me nor introduced me the same way he’d done Grace.
“Certainly,” Grace said as she sat down beside Kimba. “I’m sure you all know James Brown, the ADA handling the case.”
“Where are my manners? It’s a pleasure seeing you as well, James. I was so caught up in seeing Grace after all these years that I forgot my manners. How have you been?” Bradley extended his hand, and I gave it a firm grip, wanting to crush it.
“Fine,” I told him without bothering to return his fake pleasantries. I took the chair at the opposite end of the table.
“Well then, let’s get started.” Grace nodded toward me. “In light of the seriousness of the charges, our last offer was fifteen years. We are prepared to come down considerably if you are prepared to negotiate.”
“To be honest with you, Grace, we are only here as a courtesy. Our clients are innocent, and we plan on proving that in court,” Bradley said smugly.
I wished I could laugh out loud. If I had a hundred bucks for every defense lawyer that used that exact line during plea negations, I’d have a down payment on a house in the Hamptons.
“Bradley, as James pointed out to me earlier, we’ve got a slam dunk case, and you’ve got four clients that are looking at twenty years. Now, the only reason I’m here is to save the taxpayers of Staten Island a bunch of money on something we can get done now—away from the cameras. So, if you want to play semantics with me, then by all means, take your merry band back to Harlem and we’ll see you in court in three days. Otherwise, cut the crap and let’s talk,” Grace snapped, surprising me—and pleasing me. I guess she had heard that speech before too.
The two of them were locked in a staring contest, sizing each other up for a moment.
Lamont Hudson jumped in to break the silence. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Considering that they have no previous criminal history and are college students, we’d like to offer seven years,” I told them. “That’s half of what we originally offered.”
“Did you say seven years?” Bradley barked, taking a step back from his chair as if he were preparing to leave.
“What I believe he meant to say was five years.” Grace sighed.
“You are going to have to do better than that, Grace,” Bradley challenged.
“How about a three to five?” Grace said flatly. “That’s a more than fair offer, Bradley. And with the time your clients have already served, they will most likely only have to do a year.”
Bradley eyed her cautiously. “Three to five, huh?”
“Yes,” I said, bringing the attention back to me so that he would know that I was the one making the offer, and not Grace.
“That sounds . . .” Kimba opened his mouth to offer his opinion, but Bradley was quick to cut him off.
“That still seems unreasonable, considering that the drugs found in the vehicle didn’t belong to my clients. I was thinking that we would lower the charges to a misdemeanor and seek probation. Supervised, of course.” Bradley’s look went from me, then back to Grace.
“That won’t be happening,” I said. “We have plenty of evidence that says the drugs did belong to your clients.”
“He’s right, Bradley. This deal is more than fair, and you’d be wise to take it,” Grace advised.
“And they’d get credit for time served?” Kenneth asked, causing his colleagues at the table to stare at him, and not in a good way.
“We’ll take it into consideration,” Bradley said, effectively ending the negotiation.
“It’s a fair deal,” Grace reiterated.
“Three to five for a crime they didn’t commit doesn’t seem very fair,” Desiree chimed in.
“Three to five is a gift compared to twenty years for someone found with two kilos of pure heroin, young lady,” I said.
Lamont spoke up again. “We’ll discuss it with our clients and let you know.”
Bradley shot him a look that I couldn’t read. Is the son stepping on his father’s toes? I wondered.
“Then you’d better talk fast, because it’s only on the table for twenty-four hours.” I stood up and walked out before anyone could say anything else. I was certain that the meeting
had been a waste of time, because there was no way Bradley Hudson would take the deal, whether or not it was a good one. We were going to trial, and I was looking forward to it.
Tony
47
I was finally released from the hole and escorted back to my unit two weeks after the incident I had with the guys who jumped Krush. Time had gone by slow, and those two weeks felt like a month. When I wasn’t reading or sleeping, I spent most of my time doing pushups and calisthenics. I also spent a lot of time thinking about how we’d ended up in jail, and how the hell we might be able to get out. I was grateful that my brothers had educated me on how to handle it if I ever found myself in this situation, and once I got over the initial shock of being in jail, I’d done a decent job of following their advice of making people think I was a little nuts. It appeared that even in jail nobody messed with crazy people because they were too unpredictable. But at the end of the day, Langston’s pops was going to have to do something, because I wasn’t built for this shit the way my brothers were.
“Damn, I’m glad to see your ass. You okay?”
I was getting my things together when Krush came rushing over to me. He gave me the fraternity grip and held me tight. He finally released me, and I stared at him. Krush’s face looked way more fucked up than the last time I’d seen him.
“I’m fine, but what the fuck happened to you?” I gestured toward the sling that held his arm.
“Nothing. Just a little disagreement over a dice game.”
“I hope you gave as good as you got.” I walked over to the chair in the corner and sat down. He didn’t answer with words, but the way he lowered his head was all the answer I needed.
“What’s up, Blood?” Another inmate who was passing by stopped and gave me a nod.
“’Sup, man?” I nodded back at him.
“Doctor Strange, glad to see you come out that hole, Blood!” another guy yelled. “You need anything?”
“Nah, I’m a’ight,” I said and turned back to Krush, who was now looking at me strangely.
