“That’s some wack ass shit, Dope.”
“Word, man. I told them I wasn’t taking a cellie. And that’s that. I ain’t do shit to be in this bitch, but give birth to my boys.”
“That’s real shit.”
Ain’t that the truth, Dope thought and banged on the cell door. “I’m going to fall back, homie.”
Dope back up from the cell door and fell back on his bed. He was beyond pissed. He had left his product on the compound and only God knew if it would be there when he returned. What if the young cat sold the product and didn’t have any money for Dope? In that case, James “Dope” Bezel was going to give them a reason to lock him in the SHU. And a transfer back to a United States penitentiary.
CHAPTER 46
The Charger found the Westin Tampa Bay easily on Courtney Campbell Causeway. It wasn’t hard to spot given its location in the heart of Rocky Point island. The waterfront location offered the hotel guests a fabulous view of Tampa Bay. The driver parked in the loading zone, and unlocked the doors.
“Mr. Monroe?”
Antoine looked at the driver in the mirror. “What can I do for you?”
“That’s easy. Kill a man.”
Antoine unlocked the taxi door and got out of the vehicle. He slammed the door shut and walked to the driver’s window. He leaned in. “How do you propose I do that.”
“There’s a woman that lives here in Tampa. She has a drink here at the AQUA Bar and Grille with co-workers for their popular two-dollar Tuesday’s drink specials every Tuesday. Stand back. Let me look at you.”
What the fuck is up with this bitch? Antoine thought. Stand back to let me look at you? Was she joking?
“Back up,” the driver said and pushed the Charger’s door open. “I asked you to back the fuck up, man. Please, don’t make this time with me a problem. I will shoot your balls off,” she said and ran her hand down his chest and to his crotch. “Nice package. I’ll need you to use it tonight on our target. You’re a ladies’ man, right?”
“No doubt,” Antoine said and felt an erection forming in his pants.
“Okay, great. You were given some credit cards, right, Mr. Monroe?”
“I was.” Nonchalant.
“There is a Gucci boutique on North West Shore Boulevard. Get there and dress to impress in head to toe Gucci. Nice suit, button-up, perhaps a button or two open at the top. And a very sexy shoe.”
“How am I getting there?”
“Rent a car. How else? Let me see your hands.”
“What about them?” Antoine said and held out his hands.
“Just making sure you don’t need a manicure.”
“Why are you getting into all of this, as if I don’t know how to bag a bitch?”
“I am assuring that you literally bag this one for the coroner!”
CHAPTER 47
Kareem sat on the opposite side of the limo and wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead.
“Is it safe to put the gun down?” the woman asked very matter-of-factly.
“That depends.”
“On how fast you’d be able to get it back out.”
“You have a very neat sense of humor. But let’s get down to business,” the woman reached in her bra and pulled out a badge. She introduced herself as “Secret Service Agent Kathy Snow.”
“Interesting.”
“Very. Apparently, you know that I have been following you over a year now, and I must say your little costume that you flew out of New York in was interesting. I mean an elderly man. Who would have questioned you? And your use of the cane was classic. But your problem is that I am not easily fooled.”
“Okay, what do you want?”
“Money.”
“For what?”
“Allowing this charade. The minute I observed that you had boarded a flight to Las Vegas, I presumed that you were headed here to get married. I was right. See, you’re married because I let you get married. You being married is responsible for protecting your wife from being compelled to testify against you. That will severely cripple the prosecution’s case.”
“Okay, how much do you want?”
“Five-million. Non-negotiable.”
“Not persuaded to give you that. I am married now and I am not pressed about you telling the prosecutor because they’ll learn that when they request Toi to take the witness stand.”
“See, that’s what I admire about you. You seem to always have an answer for the prosecutor’s office. I assure you that I am not employed by the United States Attorney’s Office. See, I dusted this limo for prints. I am sure that one of unknown persons that are listed as your co-defendants on your indictment was with you today at the Bellagio and in this limo. I am sure the prints will tell all, and I have the surveillance from the airport being prepared. The Bellagio made theirs available without question. So it seems that I am a step ahead of you. Now get me 5-million-dollars by the close of business today or your pal will never make it out of Vegas! At least not without an extradition motion. So unless you want your pal to go to jail. Please get my money right.”
CHAPTER 48
United States Marshals removed Andre Bezel’s shackles in the FDC Philadelphia R & D area and then had him sit in a chair that looked like the electric chair. The chair was designed to scan inmates’ bodies for any sort of metal that could be hidden and not detected in a pat-down search. Because he was being held in a suicide cell, he was immediately taken into a room and strip-searched before he was taken to a counselor for the perfunctory return from court interview.
He had a seat in the chair in front of Counselor Jones who looked at him quizzically. Bernadette Jones was 38 years old and a lifelong employee of the Federal Bureau of Prisons. She had just been moved from FCI-Fort Dix and had no complaints about the constant reassignment. The bureau was her life. No husband and no children. Basically, no life. The sad life of a BOP employee.
“So how was court?” she asked him. She stared at him with excitement, as she was very interested in his response. All of the jail wanted to know what was going on with his trial and she had first dibs.
“Court was court. How was your day?” he asked. He was cordial and looked to chat with someone without being locked behind a cell door.
“Great. In jail like you.”
“Naw, not really. I am on trial for my life. You officers have a way of pretending that you’re in jail just like the inmates, but that’s bullshit and you know it. You leave here every single day. This is your job. If you want to know what it’s like to be in jail bring me in some coke and a cell phone and get caught.”
“Funny,” the counselor said and flipped through his file. His charges were typical but his command of the media was unusual. “Why are you on suicide watch?”
“I needed to be watched to assure I did not take myself out of this misery.”
“Is that what you really want to do?” She had her pen in hand.
“Nope. Not at this point.”
“Okay, good. So did you start trial today?”
“No.”
“When is your next court date?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Are you working with the government?”
“No.”
“Is anyone testifying against you?”
“Probably.”
Counselor Jones completed the form and signed it. She then turned it around and had Andre sign it.
“Can you have them take me off suicide watch and put me back in the SHU?”
“Never had someone flat-out requested that.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Andre said and smiled.
“Okay, well, you know that I have no control over that and I can’t even make a suggestion. I will say, if you’re ready to be off suicide watch then I suggest you shape up. I have heard of you really doing some strange things.”
“All lies.”
“Funny,” Counselor Jones said as two officers stepped into the office.
“Stand up,” one
of the COs said to Andre. “Gotta cuff you.”
“Please. I’d hate to stab myself in the throat with one of these pens!”
PART 2
CHAPTER 49
Thursday had arrived and brought with it the Philadelphia trial of the year 2011. United States vs. The Bezels was sure to be a sensational trial and one of Philadelphia’s most notable. With the animated attorneys involved the trial, there was bound to be a mixture of Hollywood and Broadway. A perfect example of what was expected when reading a John Grisham legal thriller. They had made it through a day of jury selection and were ready to rock and roll. The judge had postponed his ruling on Andre’s mental status until this morning.
The United States Courthouse in Philadelphia was comparable to a Hollywood backlot as Kareem Bezel pulled up to the building that spanned an entire city block. It was just August 25. The media frenzy and hordes of onlookers were sure to be in the same spot on Market Street until about Labor Day to wait for the delivery of a trial verdict.
Kareem observed the crowd and mentally highlighted the people with picket signs. Was that really necessary? Folks were boycotting what? All of the media stations had their crews on the sidewalk and they raced over to the limo as Kareem stepped out of it. He carried a briefcase.
It was bad enough their media vans blocked a lane on Market Street, but they clogged the sidewalk now too. The media storm was the first warning that evidenced that this trial was going to be a circus. Kareem closed the limo door behind him and the limo pulled off.
“Kareem, where’s your grandmother and girlfriend? Are they supporting you anymore?” a reporter yelled out.
Kareem kept walking. The media would have loved the opportunity to harass his family again, but he was not having that. He had them take a cab down and they entered the federal building from 6th Street. There were metal detectors that connected the federal building to the courthouse, and had the media been smart they would have known that Kareem would not subject his family to all of the camera’s. They had probably thought the opposite. They probably thought he wanted the media attention, since Kareem was looked at through many people’s jaundiced eyes as a crafty man. After all of the tricks that he had pulled, the crooked eye was appropriate, but he was not done. He had more tricks in his bag, and could not wait to magically work the crowd. That was what they had all gathered for, right? To see him act a fool. A year ago, he had driven a BMW into the back of a gutted delivery truck to evade capture, so nothing was put pass him.
Kareem worked his way around the crowds and made it into the federal courthouse. He passed through the second set of doors and then headed up a few stairs to the security checkpoint. He passed a guard his state-issued ID and tossed his briefcase onto the conveyor belt.
“You need to remove your laptop from the case and send it through separate,” another guard said to him.
Kareem removed his laptop and sat it on the belt.
“An Apple,” a guard said.
“Yes. I have the iPhone and iPad as well. It’s the only way to go,” Kareem said and smiled.
“I agree,” another guard said. “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” Everyone in the area chuckled. He then asked, “Is that the adaptor in there too?”
“Yes.”
“OK, you’re good,” he said as Kareem stepped through the metal detector without beeping.
Kareem walked pass the bank of metal detectors and was in the lobby area of the courthouse. He saw AUSA Barnswell standing in the cut and whispering to someone. Probably an assistant, Kareem thought. He wanted to toss in a little good morning for the laugh, but he felt that Barnswell would have ignored him. Barnswell wanted him behind bars, but he had danced with the devil. Barnswell had outlined the fabulous deal that had Kareem walking around the streets pending trial as an unindicted co-conspirator. And at that point it was nothing that Barnswell could do about it. Besides, he was the prosecutor who had put Kareem’s dad away and was back for round two. Kareem wondered how it felt for Barnswell to have to prosecute McKenzey after they had teamed and put so many bad guys away.
Kareem continued on his journey and bent the corner and headed up the escalator to the second floor. When he was there, he walked along the corridor to the Clerk of Court offices and dipped inside.
Kareem approached a man and asked, “Are there any trials going on today? I am a Temple Law School student looking to watch a trial.”
The man consulted a clipboard and then told Kareem that there was only one trial that was scheduled. He then gave Kareem the Judge’s name and courtroom and directed him to the elevators. Kareem smiled at the info. He was just curious as to how stretched the United States Marshals would be as far as escorting defendants to courtrooms and babysitting inmates to assure that they didn’t make a great escape.
* * *
Justin watched Kareem walk out of the elevator on the fifth floor of the courthouse. He frowned. He had a pistol hidden in the bathroom of a Chinese store directly across the street from the courthouse and he felt like using it. He was going to send a message to all of the miserable people who had been affected by Kareem and messed with his pal, Agent McKenzey.
He was certainly going to get a run for his money too, and he knew that based on the confident smile plastered on Kareem’s face.
CHAPTER 50
Ravonne dreamed of the best day that any defense attorney could hope for. No meetings, no court appearances, no briefs to be written, and no phone calls/e-mails to return. He had not had one of those since he was an associate of the firm. And that was never since he was recruited right out of Yale Law School. His ticket on the federal circuit had arrived, though, and he didn’t want a break.
He was in an interview room at the United States Courthouse pretending to be busy with his case files. Ravonne was reading sports news that he had printed to pass the time away. He had been at the courthouse since six a.m. and was very prepared to make a hot federal trial debut. In the weeks before the trial, he had been assigned fewer clients, as the senior partners looked for him to excel and bring the firm a win. He had strategically planned and outlined his case with Greenburg and somethings were just going to be done his way. The theatrical way!
Winning was what Ravonne was all about. He had watched the Law & Order prosecutorial team creatively and fictionally do what it takes to win cases. For him, the problem was that the prosecution was always on the winning end. He wanted to have the same undefeated record from the defense side of the courtroom. That far in state court he was blemished free, but he had entered the big league and was absolutely ready to serve, conquer and destroy Barnswell.
There was a knock on the room door and Kareem walked in. He shut the door behind him and smiled.
“Um, you’re reading sports,” Kareem said and cracked up.
“Keep quiet. We’re not supposed to be having fun, for crying out loud,” Ravonne said with a finger to his lips. “You know I’m keeping up with football and my fantasy team. They done gave Mike Vick 100-million.”
“Man, we have better things to do. I saw your wife too.”
“Ex-wife!” Ravonne snapped back tersely. “And I don’t want to hear shit about her. She left me and our son.”
“You left her for a man, but we’re not going to get into that here today. I read the prosecutions trial brief.”
“Okay. I am more concerned about your brother’s insanity brief.”
“That joker is going to deny that shit and rely on the appeals court to settle it. Along with reading the brief, I did some legal research over night and the likelihood of Dre’s motion bein granted at this level is very slim.”
“It’s going to be interesting, Reem, but you have to have faith in the legal gods. Motions were supposed to be submitted two weeks prior to trial with the exception of Motions In Limine, which are motions made before or during a trial requesting that the judge rule that certain evidence may, or may not, be introduced to the jury in a trial. This is a change in plea motion and the ultima
te determination will be placed in the hands of the jury. They will have to decide if he was not able to appreciate his crimes.”
“Somethings are just not possible. This is bullshit. But I am ready to get into this courtroom and stare down these jurors.”
“Who do you think is the best hope for a mistrial?”
“Funny you ask that, as I have thought about that white lady that was juror number one. She was taking notes from the beginning of being selected. It seems like she is going to be paying attention to every detail and making notes. Gotta communicate with her during your opening.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Ravonne said sarcastically. “You’re the thief and I am the lawyer remember.”
They both laughed quietly and Ravonne began to gather his belongings. There was something grandiose about what was about to transpire. He had a gut feeling that this was going to be an uphill battle, but the defense had an opportunity to get a mistrial at minimum. His legal life was on the line. “Let’s go, champ,” he told Kareem and opened the interview room door.
Men and women wearing yellow jurors stickers were gathered in the hallway, and Ravonne wrapped his arm around Kareem’s shoulders and ushered him into the courtroom. He was showing his support. Acknowledging that he supported his client and believed in his case.
Ravonne and Kareem entered the courtroom and found their places at the table next to Greenburg and Andre. They seemed to be debating, or working out details. Ravonne’s investigator, Jonathan Rude, was right behind the defense table along with Greenburg’s two assistants. In the third row center of the gallery sat Jean-Mary, Tasha and Amir. Toi was a prosecution witness and was sequestered with the other witnesses for the prosecution. There were media members sprinkled about, as well as two courtroom deputies very close to the prisoner. A Secret Service member sat at the back of the courtroom as well. The gallery was crowded and Ravonne viewed the spectators as his audience.
Die Later Page 12
