The Reign of Rain Robinson

by Roy Glenn

  Like most men, he found Bautista to be a very attractive woman and had asked her out, more than once, so Bautista used that to her advantage.

  “I know that you have to have more than this, Marita,” Monroe told her.

  Bautista put her hands on his desk and leaned forward. “We can discuss that over dinner,” she said and dropped her voice a couple of octaves.

  Akilah arrived at the meeting with Monroe, dressed in a uniquely-detailed red V-neck Jonathan Simkhai, stretch wrap dress.

  “Good morning, Ms. Malheiros,” Monroe stood to say when his assistant showed her into his office.

  “Mr. Monroe,” she said professionally and extended her hand. “Thank you very much for taking this meeting.”

  “Please, have a seat,” he said after shaking her hand for a second or two longer than was necessary.

  “Thank you,” she said and sat down in front of his desk. “Shall we get right to it?” Akilah said and crossed her legs.

  “Yes,” Monroe said, shuffling through the papers on his desk but looking at Akilah. She reached in her briefcase, took out a pad and paper and then placed it on her lap. “Your client is being charged with murder, unlawfully discharging a firearm and criminal possession of a weapon.”

  “Yes, Mr. Monroe, he is. Do you need a minute to get up to speed on the facts in question?”

  “No, I don’t. I am familiar with the case—”

  “Then I’m sure that you realize that charging Mr. Arcus with murder is clearly an overreach on the part of Detective Bautista.”

  “Slow down, Ms. Malheiros. I think, based on what I see, this is clearly not an overreach on the part of the detective, and we have enough here to proceed with charging Mr. Arcus with murder.”

  “Really?” she said with more attitude than was appropriate for the situation. “Is this the way you wanna play it?”

  “Excuse me?” Monroe asked and Akilah ignored the question and moved on.

  “With all due respect, Mr. Monroe, I suggest that we deal with the lesser charges of criminal possession of a weapon and unlawfully discharging a firearm.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Once again, Akilah reached in her briefcase and produced a valid firearm permit. “I think that takes care of criminal possession of a weapon and we can move on to the next charge,” she said as Monroe examined the permit.

  “Agreed. Mr. Arcus had a valid firearm permit,” he said and since he had no intention of taking the case to trial, he was not only satisfied with that, but happy about it. I tried to make it happen, but you really didn’t have much I could go on, he imagined himself telling Bautista over dinner.

  “Now, let’s talk about the unlawfully discharging a firearm charge, shall we?”

  “Yes,” Monroe said gladly because she was making this easy for him to cut Baby Chris loose.

  “As Christopher Arcus is an employee of a private security agency defending his place of employment, I believe that the unlawfully discharging a firearm charge should be dropped as well as the murder charge.”

  “He did kill four men,” Monroe sat back to say.

  “After those men attempted to rob the establishment, had killed four men and fired at my client.”

  Monroe remained silent.

  “You will have to excuse me for saying this so bluntly, but you know as well as I do that this case will get thrown out if you took it to a judge.”

  The murder and all other charges were dropped, but Bautista was able to keep him in jail a little longer by convincing a friend to misplace his release papers for as long as he could so that she can have one more shot at getting him to flip.

  Not happening.

  When Baby Chris was released, Jackie and Rain were there to meet him.

  Chapter Ten

  Detectives Kirk and Dawkins arrived at the residence of Rona King at the luxurious Baccarat Hotel and Residences on West 53rd Street in Midtown Manhattan. They were there to arrest her for conspiracy to commit murder after being implicated by Joachim ‘Jocko’ Eisenbraun as the person that hired him. He provided the contractors that carried out the hits against The Family.

  “This is a nice place,” Dawkins said looking around as she and Kirk walked through the lobby.

  The elaborate lobby was decorated in earth tones of creamy white and beige and featured opulent chandeliers and rustic pictures on the wall.

  “Wellness and aqua center, a grand salon, you got the Baccarat signature bar and the Chevalier Restaurant; she even has housekeeping with turndown service, and twenty-four-hour room service.”

  “Not exactly what I was expecting,” Kirk said as he pressed the button for the elevator.

  “What were you expecting exactly?”

  “Not this.”

  “Well, her profile says this is exactly the type of place she’d be living. Miss Rona has a Ph.D. in business from the Columbia School of Business. She’s a market research analyst with a company called Trend Source Qualtrics where she earns a high six-figure salary. The company studies market conditions to analyze business strategies, that type of shit.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Kirk said as the elevator arrived, and they got on. “That is not the profile of a criminal mastermind.”

  “I know, right. After she buried her father and brother, she seemed to have turned her back on her family’s business and went back to Cali to finish her master’s at Berkeley. Then she came back to the city and got her Ph.D. at Columbia.”

  “But, she is Robert King’s daughter, so here we are.”

  “From what I could tell, she has no part in their business. Her father’s right hand, AD, took over after Robert and Sonny Hill were killed. According to their phone records, she has little or no contact with him or anybody on that side of the family business.”

  “What about the King Family Restaurants? She got any contact with those?” Kirk asked, knowing that they did business out of some of those spots.

  “I couldn’t tell you that. But give me some time.”

  “Then all we really got is Jocko’s word that she’s the one who hired him. But it was enough to get us a warrant, so like I said, here we are,” Kirk said, as he and Dawkins exited the elevator and walked to the apartment. As they got closer, Dawkins unholstered her weapon.

  “Really?” Kirk said and chuckled.

  “Really.”

  “Wasn’t it you that was just saying that she doesn’t fit the profile of a criminal mastermind?”

  “Yes, I said it, and no, she doesn’t. But we are going to accuse her of conspiring to commit several murders.” She made sure one was in the chamber. “There’s no telling how she’ll react.”

  “I see your point,” he said smiling, but didn’t pull his gun. Instead, the detective knocked on the door, stepped to one side and waited.

  “Can I help you?” a voice came through the door.

  “Police,” Dawkins said, holding her badge in front of the peek hole. The door opened slowly and there stood Rona King, carrying a towel, dressed in sweats and wearing a do-rag on her head.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, patting her face with the towel.

  “We’re looking for Rona King,” Dawkins said holstering her gun. She doesn’t look like a criminal mastermind either, she thought of the five feet, four inch, one hundred-thirty-pound woman with the baby face.

  “I’m Rona King. What’s this about?”

  “I’m Detective Dawkins and this is—”

  She frowned and held up her hand in Dawkins face, then she pointed at Kirk. “I know exactly who he is. And I asked you what this is about?”

  “We have a warrant for your arrest,” Dawkins said, taking out her handcuffs because she was in no mood for attitude.

  “Arrest?” she questioned. “On what charge?”

  “Conspiracy to commit murder,” Dawkins said.

  “Murder? Have you lost your mind?” she said as Dawkins cuffed her. “Can you at least tell me who I am supposed to have conspired to kill
?”

  “We’ll talk about all that at the station,” she said and led her out of the apartment. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” and that includes giving me attitude, Dawkins thought.

  When Kirk and Dawkins returned to the precinct with Rona, she was processed and then permitted to call her attorney. Then she was taken to an interrogation room to await her attorney and be interviewed. They were just about to go question her when Lieutenant McGraw came out of his office.

  “Kirk, Dawkins!” he shouted. “I need a minute.”

  The detectives looked at one another and then turned for the Lieutenant’s office.

  “What’s up?” Kirk asked when they stepped in.

  “I hate to do this to you, but we were forced to release Eisenbraun.”

  “Why?” Dawkins demanded to know.

  “When his high-priced lawyer pranced in here, good ole Jocko recanted his statement, made bail and walked outta here.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kirk said.

  “I’m not. He said his statement was coerced.”

  “I never laid a finger on the guy!” Kirk shouted.

  “Not you, Kirk,” the lieutenant said and looked at Dawkins.

  “Me?” she asked, pointing at herself.

  “Said that when Kirk went to search the apartment, he left you in the living room with Jocko on his knees in handcuffs,” McGraw said with a smile on his face. “He said that the pretty detective held a gun to his head and told him that if he didn’t implicate Rona King that you would splatter his brains all over the wall, take off the handcuffs and swear that he tried to escape.”

  “Bullshit!” Dawkins shouted, as Kirk and McGraw laughed at how ridiculous the story was. “That never happened. Tell him, partner.”

  “Well …”

  “Don’t make me hold a gun to your head,” she said, reaching for her gun.

  “Never happened, lieutenant. She was never out of my sight.”

  “I didn’t think it did, but we had to let him walk anyway.” McGraw paused. “Especially since Giulio Altera didn’t actually tell you that Jocko was the one that hired him and like his lawyer said, anybody in that office could have made those calls.”

  “We gotta cut Rona loose is what he’s trying to say,” Dawkins said with her head hanging low. “That’s it, isn’t it, lieutenant?”

  The lieutenant slowly nodded his head. “With the apologies of this department.”

  Kirk bounced to his feet. “Not before she answers a few questions,” he said and reached for the doorknob.

  “Dawkins, a minute,” McGraw said.

  “Go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Dawkins said as Kirk rushed off to question Rona. “What’s up?”

  McGraw held up one finger as he picked up the phone. “Send him in,” he said and hung up. He looked at Dawkins. “There’s somebody that wants to talk to you.”

  “Who, and about what?”

  There was a knock at the door. “Come in.”

  In walked Eddie Lewis. Dawkins and McGraw stood up as he extended his hand.

  “You must be Detective Rachael Dawkins. I’ve heard great things about you.” He shook her hand. “Eddie Lewis, I’m an assistant U.S. attorney for the Southern District of New York.”

  “Very nice to meet you,” Dawkins said and sat down wondering what he could possibly want with her.

  “I know that you’re in the middle of something, so I’ll get right to the point. My office is putting together a task force in cooperation with the NYPD to go after the Caldwell organization.”

  “Good,” she said with passion. “Our team worked too damn hard for Butch to plead out on a state charge of manslaughter instead of the trafficking or even the RICO case they could have brought against them.”

  We got him off the street. It was a win, Rachael.

  Those were the words that Lieutenant Gineconna spoke to her when he told her after all the work she’d put in. It never did sit right with her.

  “That was our thinking as well. I reviewed the files. Excellent work, detective. How long were you working undercover again?”

  “Three years.”

  “The information you gathered and your testimony before the grand jury is the reason we’re sure we can make a case that takes the whole thing down, not just one player off the board.” He paused before he got to the point of all of the high praise he had lavished on her. “The reason that I wanted to talk to you, detective, is because of your experience and in-depth knowledge of the Caldwell’s and how they do business. We’d like for you to consider taking point and heading up the NYPD side of the task force.”

  “Wow.” She laughed a little. “I gotta say that I definitely wasn’t expecting that when I got up this morning,” Dawkins said, and her mind began racing back to the years that she spent working undercover infiltrating the Caldwell’s.

  Once she was in, she easily got close to London and after she rebuffed her many sexual advances, Dawkins became like a sister to her. The detective then used that access to build a case against her father, Vince Caldwell, that fell on Butch when his father got sick, moved to Arizona and got out of the family business.

  “The case you helped build is the reason that Butch Caldwell is in jail.”

  “I was just a part of the team,” she said modestly.

  “The crucial part of the team, detective,” Lewis laughed, but he appreciated her modesty. “I understand that this is sudden. So, take a couple of days and think about it.” Lewis stood up. “Did I mention that since you’ll have command responsibilities that it comes with a promotion to sergeant?”

  Dawkins stood up and extended her hand. “No, you didn’t. But it is good to know,” Dawkins said shaking his hand. He handed her his card.

  “Like I said, take a couple of days and think about it. Give me a call and let me know what you decide.”

  “I will,” Dawkins said, knowing that she could have given him her answer right then. “It was a pleasure meeting you and I’ll be in touch soon with my answer.”

  “I hope that you do it. I am positive that your knowledge and experience will be invaluable in making this case.” He looked at the lieutenant. “Tommy, always a pleasure. Give me a call and we’ll hit some balls.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a murderer to question before she gets away,” Dawkins said and left the office.

  As she walked to the interrogation room, her mind drifted back to her relationship with London.

  You used me!

  Her three days of testimony before the grand jury was riveting as she described their drug operation in intricate detail. Knowing that he was facing twenty years to life, Butch pled guilty to the manslaughter charge and was doing ten years.

  “How could you?” London said when she saw Dawkins after the trial. “I thought you were my friend.”

  “I’m a cop, London. I was just doing my job.”

  “If your job is betraying the people that trust you, then your job sucks.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Fuck you, Dominica, or Rachael, or whatever the fuck your name is,” London said and walked away leaving Dawkins standing alone thinking that she was right.

  Betraying the people that trust you does suck and not just for the people who got betrayed.

  There was a heavy personal toll to be paid. She tried to think of it as just another undercover op, but it didn’t turn out that way.

  As she did with Jada West, Dawkins allowed herself to become personal with London and as she did with Jada, she began to like her. But unlike Jada, when it came time to make a case against Butch, she did her job. Her becoming personally attached to subjects of a criminal investigation was one of the reasons that Dawkins chose to work cases instead of accepting another deep cover assignment.

  While Dawkins was entertaining the offer and dealing with her personal demons, Kirk was in the interrogati
on room with Rona.

  “Would you mind telling me who I’m being charged with conspiring to kill?” Rona demanded to know the second Kirk came through the door.

  Knowing that he had to tread lightly, he ignored her question, sat down and placed a pad and pen on the table.

  “Joachim Eisenbraun,” Kirk said, and Rona said nothing. “You ever hear of him?”

  “No, detective, I have no idea who that is. And you haven’t answered my question.”

  “I know. So what you’re telling me, for the record, is that you, nor anybody you know, have ever contacted Joachim Eisenbraun?”

  “I’ve already told you, detective, I have no idea who that man is. Does he have something to do with what I’m being charged with?” Rona asked as Dawkins came in the room followed closely by Rona’s lawyer, Madison Collins.

  “Really, Kirk? This harassment has got to stop. I just spoke with your lieutenant and this interview is over,” she said. “Come on, Rona.”

  Rona stood up and leaned over the table toward Kirk. “Haven’t you harassed my family enough? Haven’t you caused me enough pain?” she said and followed her lawyer out of the interrogation room.

  Kirk stood up and started for the door. “That was a waste of time.” When Dawkins sat down, he looked at her. “What?”

  “Have a seat, partner,” she said and extended her hand toward the chair. “There’s something that I need to tell you.”

  Kirk sat down. “What?”

  “I just talked to a prosecutor for the Southern District of New York.”

  “Eddie Lewis. I saw him outside the lieutenant’s office. What did he want to see you about?”

  “His office is putting together a task force in cooperation with the NYPD to go after the Caldwell organization and they want me to consider taking point and running the NYPD side of the task force.”

  “Congratulations. You’re the perfect one to head up the task force.”