"I'll show you respect you motherfucker, I am gonna, ouch, son-of-a-bitch that hurts, okay, okay, you win. Can you show me how to do this?" Josh conceded.
Bennett released the hold, turned Josh around and took his hand, "it takes a big man to admit his mistake and seek guidance from those responsible for his humiliation..."
Josh interrupted "I wasn't humiliated, I was...."
Bennett resumed his prison shower motion. Josh and Chris both started laughing.
"Okay, I stand before you a humbled, humiliated, and chastised person seeking," looking at Chris. "What is it I am seeking here?"
Chris walked over to Bennett, "The US Attorney is trying to fuck Josh over in order to get elected to Congress, we're not going to let that happen are we Hawk?"
Bennett walked over to the desk, leaned back, and closed his eyes, pausing for a moment.
"Okay Josh, I don't know what you did to put yourself in the target cross-hairs of Mr. Collucci, and I don't care. That son-of-a-bitch is a boil on the ass of society and I would like nothing better than to lance it with a fucking bayonet."
"But wouldn't the bayonet hurt society's ass more than the boil?" Josh asked, smiling.
"The Neanderthal has a sense of humor, there may be hope for him yet," Bennett replied, "okay, let's go somewhere and you can tell me the story," walking to the office door. "Tiffany, get your ass in here, I need legal assistant professional type help."
Turning back to face Josh, "I know Chris wouldn't appreciate it, but Tiff does have a nice ass, wouldn't you say?"
"Well, now that you mention it, yes she does, too bad those assets fade with age, just look at our mutual friend here," turning to Chris and smiling.
Bennett grinned, "You know I may have engaged in a bit of underestimating myself, Josh. You apparently do have some redeeming characteristics. How is it that the old broad outranks you?"
"This old broad is ready to start dealing with the problem as soon as you two new fraternity brothers are ready," Chris said, her voice climbing for emphasis.
"My, my Chris calm down, we are going to go over to Hemenway's as soon as Tiff," raising his voice and turning toward the door, "gets her ass in here and gets my car sent up."
"Why don't we just walk over?" Josh asked.
"I would, but I will be headed home right after and thought to save myself the walk back." Hawk answered.
"Well hurry the hell up will you, I ain't got all day." Chris said.
"You'll have to excuse her Hawk, may I call you that?" Josh asked
Hawk nodded.
"She's going through the change." Josh said, smiling.
"Again?" Hawk answered
"Fuck you two," Chris cursed, "I am out of here." Heading out the door, she passed Tiffany in the hallway.
Tiffany handed her a small plastic sandwich bag with several tea bags, "My grandma would make ice tea with this blend, and it helped her get through the, well you know..."
Chris entertained the idea of shoving the bag down Tiffany's throat, but reconsidered. The girl was not responsible for Josh's idiocy; she was just trying to be nice.
The three jumped into Hawk's car and headed to Hemenways.
Hawk, Chris, and Josh walked into Hemenway's, a fixture downtown. Housed in a gleaming metal and glass high-rise building surrounded by windows, it overlooked the city.
It was strategically located within walking distance of the Frank Licht Judicial Center, the Department of the Attorney General, The US Attorney's Office, the US District Federal Courthouse, numerous business and financial center offices, and Brown University. It attracted a broad spectrum of people.
At any given point in time, Judges, Prosecutors, Defense Lawyers, cops, Court clerks, Brown professors, and the occasional tourist would be at the bar or one of the tables.
The hostess came over to Hawk, wrapped him in a very enthusiastic hug, smiled as she removed his hands from her rather nice ass. Nodding toward Chris and Josh she said, "Well, I see we have some new friends of Hawk's, don't let him use the 'I forgot my wallet' routine when the check comes, he has an open account here and can well afford it."
"Ah, Miranda, you are so considerate. When will we be getting together again? I so enjoy your, ah, enthusiasm."
"Ah Hawk, you have such high and unrealized expectations. I assume you are in between spouses to cheat on so there'd be no thrill in it." Laughing and walking toward the bar, "I am safe to assume a table near the common folk is beneath your high standards. So it's the bar of course."
As they walked toward the bar, Josh looked at the view of hostess' attractive return to her duty station, "You know Hawk, I suppose your non-stop effort at screwing anything that moves, just by the number of attempts, sometimes yields success. ‘ Cuz it can't be your looks or personality."
"Ah, and the Neanderthal continues to amuse. Order a drink my boy and perhaps, just perhaps, I will let you in on my secret." Hawk smiled, "Chris can attest to the power of my charms, though she will deny it."
"Leave me out of this locker room banter," Chris replied.
"She has never been able to let me go," Hawk winked, "once they been Hawked, they are done"
"If you were the last person on earth I wouldn't." Chris retorted.
Hawk turned to Josh, his back to Chris, and mouthed the words, "As they age, they regret giving me up." Turning back to Chris, he continued, "such anger Chris, I know you can't forget our time together, but it's over, let me go woman, there are others with more pressing needs."
Josh was starting to get a kick out of Hawk. It wasn't often someone could rattle Chris's cage. He thought this guy must be some great lawyer for Chris to sit here and listen to this. Unless...no, can't be...well maybe.
Josh and Hawk jostled for the corner seat, facing the door.
While they engaged in their manly competition, Chris sat in the seat and said something to the bartender. After hearing his response, she ordered a Single Malt Scotch in a chilled down glass.
She liked it cold, but not watered down.
"I have just the thing for you." The bartender said, flirting with her.
"That remains to be seen," she retorted and turned to look as Hawk and Josh stared at her.
"Single Malt?" Hawk asked. I do not recall that being one of your drinks. You strike me as a light beer from the bottle girl."
"Well, Pablo, the bartender's name is Pablo by the way, suggested it when I asked for the best drink in the house, since you are buying." Smiling smugly.
"I know his name, I pay his mortgage with my bar bills. Will you and Pablo be adding a room to my bill as well, or will you just mount him in the car as usual?"
"Jealousy does not become you Hawk." Turning back to watch the bartender work his magic.
Pablo returned a short time later with what appeared to be a fish bowl full of ice with the glass of single malt seated in a depression in the ice. Spending several moments extolling the virtue of this particular malt, its various aromas and flavors.
"Any Scotsman would faint at the sight of this abomination." Hawk interjected.
"And what can I get you gentlemen? My friend Chris here says you are very good friends of hers as well." Pablo smiled.
"Chardonnay," Josh said, "Cake Bread Cellars. Might as well bring the bottle."
"What's this?" Hawk asked, "the lady with a man's drink, the Neanderthal with a lady's drink, what's this world coming to? Perhaps I should have a Cosmo."
"Coming right up," Pablo replied.
"Hold on, son," Hawk commanded, "You know what I would like, a Cold River Vodka Martini, very dry, frostbite cold," shaking his head. "Did you really think I'd drink a Cosmopolitan?"
"I wouldn't have been shocked." Pablo replied, winking at Chris and heading off.
"Okay," Hawk said as he and Josh sat down, "tell me the story, from the beginning, do not leave out anything. I want to know everything you thought, saw, smelled, heard, tasted, whatever. I need for you to let me see what transpired through your eyes."
> Josh took a sip of his wine, composed his thoughts, and began to relive the day.
"Chris and I were on our way back from a meeting and we heard the initial call for a shooting at Kent Farm," Josh said, relating the moments leading up to his first seeing Machado.
“...As we pulled up, I spotted a guy matching the description of the suspect running on..."
"What was that description? Why did he match it?" Hawk interrupted, "All of it Josh, all of it is critical."
"Dispatch put out the suspect was a black male, blue-hooded sweatshirt, armed with a sawed-off shotgun, last seen running toward John Street. As we came down Grove, I saw him. He saw us and ran toward Saint Domenick's Church.
I bailed out of the car and went after him. I radioed in the foot pursuit and saw him go in the front door of the church, then called for units to seal off the building, and went in after him."
"Did you see a weapon?"
"No." Josh replied, voice rising
"How do you know he saw you, did he point at you, did he stop dead in his tracks and yell oh lordy there's the poh-lice, I better run to church?"
"No, what the fuck Hawk, I am telling you what I did," Josh replied.
"I know that, and I am on your side, but the US Attorney is going to look for a motive that affirms his case. He wants to find evil intent on your part that you chased and shot an unarmed man.
He wants to find that reason, sweeten it up with a racial motivation. He wants you to hand him your assumption by the white cop that the running black guy is naturally guilty of something.
Moreover, at this point, you have given him a good one. You were chasing a black person that was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, no weapon visible, who ran into a church. Not a bar, not a stolen car, not a roomful of gang members, a Goddamn church. And that's the issue at this point." Hawk started taking some notes, motioning for Josh to wait.
Josh stared for a moment. Hawk was right. They are going to twist this into a Rodney King encounter.
"Why didn't you wait for the other officers? Why risk going in alone?" Hawk asked.
"I thought someone might be in the church. They leave the doors open so people can go in and pray. I was worried...."
"You were worried, but you didn't know. For all you knew he could be waiting just inside the door, hoping you would follow. I am missing the tactical decision here. Why did you go in, alone, before you were certain what you were facing? For all you knew at this point he already held a hostage.
Remember, juries watch TV. On every damn TV show in the country it takes 5 seconds for a fully deployed SWAT team to surround the bad guy. That is what they expect. We have to convince them the reality is not so immediate and what you did made sense, under the circumstances, with what you knew at the time."
"He just shot two people." Josh said.
"You believed he did, now we are getting somewhere, you chased a man, fitting the description of someone involved in a double shooting. You believe he has already taken lives; you were trying to prevent him from taking others.
That makes tactical sense, the rounds have already been fired, and talking is no longer an option. See, Josh, this is what I need to know. I need to know what you thought, why you thought it, and what you did as a result. Then, I can teach the jury what they need to know to decide things from your perspective, not some Hollywood cop fiction."
Chris picked up her drink, walked over, and stood behind Josh. "Make believe I wasn't there and you were telling me the story."
Josh smiled at her. "I was thinking about Father Jim as I went up the stairs. I know he spends a lot of time in the church during the day. You can usually find him there. I was worried this guy might come upon Jim and shoot him."
Hawk face lit up "Priests may not be held in as high esteem as they once were, but, this being Rhode Island, the most Catholic state in the country, a police officer chasing a bad guy into a church to protect a priest can help us. Go on Josh."
Josh took another drink and continued. "I went up to the front door; the middle door had just shut behind him so I decided to go in one off to the left, in case he was expecting me to follow him. I opened the door and went in fast and low, getting behind the last pew. I could hear movement and took a quick glance over the backrest. I could see movement between the seats; he was crawling toward the front. I came around on the far side as he moved onto the altar. That's when I yelled for him to stop moving."
"In those words," Hawk said sarcastically, “calm as could be?"
"No,” Josh shook his head, “I yelled 'Stop right there you motherfucker or I will blow that fucking hood off with your head in it."
"Hmm, not very eloquent or grammatically correct, but it was meant for effect not to impress him I suppose." Hawk interjected, talking a drink of the martini, "Did he respond to your instructions?"
"No, he kept looking toward the door of the Sacristy and then back at me. His legs were, well, something was not right with his leg. One was bent like a sniper, the other was straight back, his foot was moving but the leg was not. I noticed it when he was running also. I thought he had the shotgun stuffed down his pants."
"You noticed what when he was running? Everything Josh, I need everything." Hawk said
"When I first spotted him there was an awkwardness to his movement. He was fast but one leg didn't move as fluidly as the other one did. I thought he might have tried to hide the shotgun in his pants," Josh replied.
"Josh, these little details are the critical pieces that I need to show the jury you were acting reasonably, and lawfully, based on what you knew and saw. Information discovered later, while unfortunate, is not relevant. We need them to understand the basis you relied on to make decisions. Please go on. Don't leave anything out."
"Okay, the guy wouldn't listen; he kept trying to move toward the Sacristy door. I tried to spot his hands, to see if there was a weapon. One of his hands was underneath him and the other started to come up, first toward the door and then swinging back toward me. I yelled again for him to stop moving and, ah, wait a minute, as I am going over this I can see him now, his mouth is moving, he's talking but can't quite make it out, then he says 'I tried...',but I can't hear the rest, I think the guy's a nutcase and his hand continues toward me. He has something in his hand, I think it’s a gun and raise my weapon. I aim center mass on his chest. Then I hear a loud sound, metal striking metal. I think he's pulled the trigger and it misfired. I fired, two times, and waited a moment. It is known as double tap, fire two rounds, check for effect, fire again if needed. He kept moving, raising the weapon, well," pausing a moment, "what I thought was a weapon, so I fired again, hitting him in the head."
Josh put his head down and rubbed his eyes. Chris puts her arm on his shoulder.
"I hear him say 'I tried to get him to stop' then he stopped moving."
"Oh my God, why didn't I wait another moment...?” Josh voice trailed off.
"Let me see if I understood this, you fired, and then heard him say something?"
Josh was staring blankly.
"Listen, son. I have been where you are. You start adding things you found out after the fact to what the factors were leading up to your decision to fire, and you'll end up eating your gun."
Josh looked at Hawk, "After I fired, I knew I hit him. I heard him say 'I tried to get him to stop', and then he stopped moving. It happened, just like that."
"I want you to focus," Hawk continued, “What was the noise you heard? Describe it to me in more detail."
Josh raised his head, finished the glass of wine, and continued. "It sounded like I said, metal hitting metal, like a weapon misfiring as I thought at the time. Now that I think about it, it seemed to be from more behind him, echoed perhaps. This all happened in seconds so it’s hard to have much detail."
"What did you do after you fired?" Hawk asked.
"Believe it or not, I tried to do CPR on him. I didn't want him to die." Josh replied. Staring into the empty glass, "Chris came in and pulled me away.
She could see it was useless. A few other officers came into the church. That's when the cell phone rang, I realized then there was no weapon, or at least what was in his hand was not a weapon. I found out later the shotgun was recovered at the other scene."
"I am intrigued by this sound. What kind of a cell phone was it? Was it a flip phone? Could that have been the sound you heard?" Hawk asked, without looking up from his notes.
"No," Chris replied, "it was an I-Phone, stolen of course, no part of that moves"
"Then what, or who, made the sound? Can you compare it to anything else?" Hawk asked, motioning to Pablo for another Martini and Scotch and filling Josh's glass with the bottle.
"I don't know, it was a click, loud, as soon as I heard it I made the decision to fire, I don't know what else it could have been." Josh looked to Chris. Chris shrugged her shoulders.
Hawk rose from his seat, "I thought you two were experienced investigators. Think, boys and girls, think. Something caused that noise. It wasn't the cell phone; it wasn't a weapon...metal on metal...a click...loud...echoes...."
Josh looked up, "a door latch, it could've been a door latch, someone closing a door."
Hawk nodded, "now you're thinking like an investigator. You said the place was unlocked for people to come in. You told me Father Jim was usually there most days, I believe, was how you described his habits. Where was he this day? I think someone was there. Someone closed a door so they wouldn't be seen, or see what was happening."
Returning to his seat he continued, "We need to have a chat with Father Jim. If he was not there, perhaps he knows of someone that may have been there. I will call upon the good father tomorrow and see what I can learn."
"I'll do it,” Josh said. "Jim and I have been friends for long time. He trusts me...."
"I think that is unwise, should the good Father have valuable information I do not want it tainted by the object of Mr. Collucci's affection, namely you, having any direct involvement with potential witnesses. You say you are close to Father Jim. Have you heard from him since this incident?"
Josh thought for a moment and said, "No I haven't, but it’s not like he calls me all the time or anything. Just when something is going on."
Collision Course (A Josh Williams Novel) Page 9
