Plastic Gods, A Rich Coleman Novel Vol 2

by William Manchee

  Chapter 17

 

  The Deputy U.S. Marshall led Matt into the magistrate’s courtroom and told him to sit at the counsel table. The room began to fill up with the media that had flooded the Federal Building upon the news of Matt's arrest. Matt watched them as they walked in. When he saw Lynn and her friend Lori Keyes, he choked up and nearly burst into tears. Lynn smiled and blew him a kiss. Matt spotted his mother, smiled at her, and then turned back toward the bench. Finally, Pierson showed up with an associate and joined him at the counsel table.

  "Hi, Matt. You hanging in there?"

  "Yeah, I guess."

  "This shouldn't be too bad. I don't think the magistrate will set the bond too high."

  "I sure hope not. I don't want to spend any time in the Dallas County Jail."

  Matt looked over at the opposite counsel table and saw a middle-aged man and a woman sit down.

  "Who's the prosecutor?" Matt whispered to Pierson.

  Pierson looked over and said, "Russell Lewis."

  "Is he any good?"

  "Yeah, the best they have."

  "Figures."

  Suddenly the door to the magistrate's chamber opened and a young law clerk walked out and sat down. Then the court reporter came in through another door. The bailiff stood up and said, "All rise!"

  The magistrate took the bench and began shuffling through some papers. He looked up and scanned the packed courtroom. "Well, let's see, Mr. Lewis, what do we have here today?"

  "Matthew Coleman, Your Honor. As you know, Mr. Coleman is an attorney licensed to practice before the federal courts of this district. Mr. Coleman has been charged with participating in a scheme to conceal assets belonging to the estate of a Wallace Green."

  "I see. What's your bail request?"

  "We believe there is a substantial flight risk, Your Honor, and would request bail be set at five hundred thousand dollars."

  "Mr. Pierson, what do you say about that?"

  "Your Honor, Mr. Coleman is a member of the bar, he has strong roots in the community, no priors, and we intend to prove that he has been framed. Five hundred thousand dollars is ridiculous."

  "You have some testimony, Mr. Lewis?"

  "Yes, Your Honor. Agent Carl Rigsbee of the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

  "Very well, bring him up."

  The bailiff swore the witness in and Lewis began to interrogate him.

  "Mr. Rigsbee, where are you employed, sir?"

  "The Federal Bureau of Investigation."

  "And what do you do for them?"

  "I'm a special agent."

  "And what is your current assignment?"

  "To keep an eye on Mathew Coleman and gather evidence to aid in his criminal prosecution."

  "And were you observing him two nights ago, February 21st?"

  "Yes, we had a court order allowing us to tap his phones and place wires in his home. We also had him under visual and audio surveillance."

  "Where were you situated?"

  "In a van parked down the street from his house."

  "What were you doing in the van?"

  "Listening to a conversation he was having with his wife."

  "And you were authorized to do that?"

  "Yes, we had a court order."

  "And where were they when you were listening?"

  "In their hot tub."

  "Did they talk about anything relating to the subject matter of your investigation?"

  "Yes, they were planning to escape the country and hide in Mexico."

  "Do you have the recording of that conversation?"

  "Yes."

  "Would you play it for us?"

  Agent Lewis slipped a cassette out of his coat and put it in a tape recorder that had been set up next to him. He played the tape.

  'Maybe we should leave the country. I checked the savings account and we've got two hundred and thirty-two thousand dollars in there right now.'

  'You want to be a fugitive the rest of your life?'

  'At least we'd be fugitives together.'

  'That's not a bad idea, but do you think we could get away from the FBI? They've got a tail on me everywhere I go.'

  'I'm sure we could figure out a way to sneak off.'

  Agent Lewis shut off the tape.

  "No further questions, Your Honor."

  "Mr. Pierson, your witness."

  Pierson stood up and glared at the witness. "So you’re saying because in a private, intimate conversation between a husband and a wife the idea of fleeing the country came up Mr. Coleman is a flight risk?"

  "Exactly."

  "Didn't he reject the idea in the tape?"

  "Objection, Your Honor. The tape speaks for itself."

  “Your Honor, we haven’t heard the entire tape. I think it’s a fair question.”

  “Overruled. Answer the question,” the magistrate ruled.

  “Yes, ultimately he did.”

  "In your observation of Mr. Coleman, has he bought any airline tickets?"

  "No."

  "Have you observed him packing bags?"

  "No."

  "Has he withdrawn large sums of money from his checking or savings account?"

  "No."

  "What did Mr. and Mrs. Coleman do directly after the conversation you just played for us?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Did you continue to monitor their activity?"

  "Yes."

  "What did they do?"

  "They made love."

  "Did you hear them? Did you watch them make love?"

  "I heard them, but I didn't watch them. Agent Covey watched them."

  "Did Mrs. Coleman scream when she climaxed?"

  "Objection! Your Honor!" Lewis yelled.

  "Did you get a hard-on?"

  "Objection!"

  "Pass the witness."

  "No further questions," Lewis replied.

  "Is there any more testimony?" the magistrate asked.

  "Not from the prosecution, Your Honor."

  "Mr. Pierson?"

  Pierson called several witnesses, the last one being Lynn. Lynn walked slowly to the witness stand and took a seat.

  "Mrs. Coleman, you're married to the defendant, correct?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you aware that you and your husband were tape recorded in the hot tub the other night?"

  "Yes, I heard later that an FBI agent was on the roof watching us."

  "What else were you doing in the hot tub besides talking?"

  "Making love."

  "So you and your husband were having an intimate moment in your hot tub and the FBI was listening in? Do I have that right?"

  "Exactly."

  "Now you brought up the question of fleeing the country, right?"

  "Yes, but I was just dreaming. I knew we couldn't do it. Why should we do it? Matt is innocent."

  "Did your husband ever say he wanted to flee to Mexico or anywhere else?"

  "No, he basically said it would never work."

  "At the end of the tape, he seemed to agree to leave the country with you."

  "He was just playing along with my dream. It was part of our foreplay."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Coleman, and I apologize for the legal system that allows the violation of your right to privacy. Pass the witness."

  "Mr. Lewis?"

  "No questions, Your Honor."

  "All right, then I don't really think deep down we have a flight risk here but the very fact that fleeing the country came up is a problem. I'm afraid in this case it would be prudent to err on the side of caution rather than take a chance that the defendant would run off with his pretty young wife. Accordingly, I'm setting bond at $500,000 as requested."

  "Your Honor! Pierson exclaimed. "That's ridiculous!"

  "You may not like the ruling counselor," the magistrate said, "and that is your right. But you better show a little respect for this court or I’ll cite you for contempt."

  Pierson glared at the magistrate as he got up an
d left the bench. Pierson turned to Matt and shook his head. "I don't believe this! Jesus, what is going on here?"

  Matt put his hand on Pierson’s shoulder and said, “It’s not your fault, Bruce. We are fighting powerful forces here. I’ll be all right. Just watch out for Lynn, okay?”

  Pierson looked at Matt and shook his head. Then he shrugged and started packing up to leave. The deputy U.S. Marshall came over and took Matt away. Lynn stood at the back of the courtroom and watched Matt disappear through a side door. Tears ran down her cheeks. Lori handed her a tissue and put her arm around her to console her.

  Matt was transported to the Dallas County Jail to be held until trial or the posting of a bond. He was processed and put in a cell by himself. That night he was transported by chain gang to the mess hall for supper. After he had been released from his chains, he got in line for dinner. The line was slow, but in time he was served and he sat down. He wasn't in a very talkative mood so he ate silently until someone addressed him.

  "Aren't you that legal evangelist?"

  Matt looked up and frowned at the man. "I don't know who you're talking about."

  "That bankruptcy dude. Yeah you look just like him."

  "So?"

  "So, what happened?"

  "I don't really want to discuss it."

  "What, are you too good for us working class?"

  "No, I’m just depressed. I don't want to talk about it."

  "Get used to it, man. Depression is the norm around here. Huh guys?"

  The guys around them laughed.

  "Oh, just a tip. You better go to the john before you go back to your cell, cause this will be the last opportunity until you get back to your cell at eight."

  "Really? What are we going to do after supper?"

  "They're taking us to the yard and there's no place to take a piss out there."

  "Huh, okay, thanks," Matt said. Matt looked at the man a minute and then got up and went to the bathroom. As he walked in, a tall dark inmate was in front of a urinal. He could see that several men were in the bank of stalls to his left. He proceeding cautiously, starting to unbutton his fly when several men suddenly rushed him and pushed him up against the wall.

  He struggled but there was no resisting as he was greatly outnumbered. Finally, he quit fighting and glared at his assailants.

  "Okay, you got me. What do you want?"

  "I've got some advice for you from a friend," the tall, dark one said.

  "Oh really?"

  "Yes, listen carefully your scumbag, because I'm not going to give it to you twice."

  "I'm listening."

  "Tomorrow, you're gonna call your attorney and tell him that you've given this whole thing some thought and you've decided to plead guilty and take your chances."

  "Oh, sure. You can tell them to piss off!"

  One of the inmates kneed Matt in the groin. Matt let out a groan and doubled over. The intense pain brought tears to his eyes. Two of the inmates jerked him upright again.

  "I know you don't really want me to tell them that because, if I did, your sexy little wife would end up in a watery grave at the bottom of the Trinity River."

  Matt squirmed frantically trying to get loose, but it was no use as the men had him pinned tightly to the wall.

  "In fact, if you don't call your attorney tomorrow just like I said, your wife will be catfish bait by the weekend."

  "You bastard!” Matt screamed as he pulled one arm loose and punched one of his assailants in the eye. The angry inmate grabbed his arm and twisted it sharply. Matt let out a painful scream as he was pinned back against the wall again. He looked up at his assailants and said sternly, “If anybody touches my wife I'll kill them!"

  “Yeah, like we’re scared of you.”

  “I’ve got lots of money. I’ll put a nice big contract out on your life and you’ll be hunted like a rabid dog.”

  The man laughed. "You're going to be broke by the time the people we work for get through with you."

  A bell sounded and the men quickly dispersed leaving Matt lying on the restroom floor. A guard came in to check the facility and saw him. He ran over and helped him up. The guard took him to the infirmary, where he was patched up and then taken back to his cell. In the solitude of his cell he contemplated the chilling message that had been so painfully delivered.

  Lynn was the greatest thing that ever happened to him. All his life he had been scared to death he would never find his soul mate. When he finally found her he was the happiest man alive and he savored every minute they spent together. He thought back to their honeymoon and the time they spent alone in Alaska. Now he was about to lose everything he cared about. Tears flowed down his cheeks. He cried into the night as he mourned the imminent loss of his true love.

  After breakfast he asked to use the phone. The guard showed him to a telephone room and locked him inside. Matt picked up the phone and called Pierson.

  "Hello."

  "Bruce, this is Matt."

  "Oh, I'm glad you called. I've just about raised your bond."

  "Don't bother."

  "Huh?"

  "Forget the bond. I'm pleading guilty."

  "What!"

  "I’ve been instructed to plead guilty or they’re going to kill Lynn."

  "They contacted you in the jail?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm going to call Lewis. This is ridiculous."

  "Forget it! Don't you get it? I've lost! They're too big. They control this whole damn country. There is no way I can win now. God, was I stupid starting this thing. I should have listened to Dad. . . . Oh Jesus! Bruce, what am I going to do?"

  "Listen, let me come over. We need to talk about this. There's got to be some way we can protect you and Lynn."

  "How? The FBI? That's a joke."

  "Let me talk to some people."

  "Forget it. If I plead guilty, how much time will I get?"

  "Oh God, one to five years and a fine of up to $500,000."

  "How about probation?"

  "As I recall the sentencing guidelines, you could be out in eighteen months."

  "I can live with that. Make a deal."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes, I'm not taking a chance on Lynn being killed. I couldn't face that. I love her too much."