Die Later

by Rahiem Brooks

  “I’ll be opening, Your Honor,” Andre’s lawyer said.

  CHAPTER 56

  “Good morning, ladies and gentleman of the jury. I am defense attorney Greenburg, and I represent Andre Bezel in this matter. And this is a simple matter, ladies and gentleman. We selected you, as we found that you all would be able to resolve this simple matter. It’s the matter of this five-count indictment that alleges that Mr. Bezel violated drug laws, committed murder—three of them, conspired to commit bank fraud, conspired to commit identity theft, and was in possession of a weapon while being a convicted felon. I assure you that Andre is not responsible for any of these acts. Well, how can that be?

  “The Assistant United States Attorney has explicitly outlined the government’s case. There was a list of witness...” Greenburg stopped talking and grabbed a dictionary from the defense table. “Witness,” he said with an air of sarcasm. Then reading from the dictionary, he said, “Person who has witnessed something.” Well, in this matter, there are no eye witnesses to any of these crimes. There are no witnesses who directly saw or heard Andre Bezel commit any of the crimes outlined in the indictment. There’s no video surveillance. No testimonial notes from private eyes or federal and local agents.

  Let me tell you a secret about the government. All they have is a circumstantial case. Later the judge will instruct you on what that means and you will agree with the defense that the government has not met our court system highest standard of beyond reasonable doubt.

  But, the defense has a bit of evidence.” He paused and stared into the air for dramatic effect. He walked over to the jury box and then to the witness stand and rested his hand on it. “Yes, the defense has video surveillance of a prosecution witness tampering with the body of Avery Snobli. Perhaps, while on the stand Agent McKenzey can explain why he robbed the dead man.”

  “Objection!”

  “Sustained.”

  “Sorry,” Greenburg said and put on a weak frown. “I’ll rephrase.”

  “And you’ll pay a fine for that charade,” the judge said looking down at a paper and scribbling on it.

  “Nothing further ladies and gentleman, except that we look forward to a not guilty verdict,” Greenburg said and proceeded to his seat.

  “Counsel, approach please,” the judge said as someone opened the courtroom door and walked hastily toward the prosecutor’s table.

  When Greenburg and Barnswell approached the bench, the judge smiled and took off his glasses. “Listen, and listen very carefully. There will be no mistrial in my courtroom. Understood? Both of you paced inside that well and spat statements worthy of mistrial had the issue been raised. Going forward, you will be fined without a second thought if you pull any more stunts. This is not TV. A man’s freedom and liberty are on the line, and I suggest we act like it. Greensburg, you’re up to $500. I am sure you have a better way to stimulate the economy and save Barack’s job.”

  The judge spun around and the attorneys walked back to their seats.

  The judge said, “It’s noon. Barnswell, about how long will you be with your first witness?”

  “About an hour, Your Honor,” Barnswell said and was then tapped on his shoulder. The man that had raced into the courtroom tapped him on his shoulder. Barnswell spun around and the man leaned and whispered into Barnswell’s ear.

  Barnswell turned crimson red and then stood. To the judge, he said, “Your Honor, we have a problem. It seems our first witness was found murdered in her Florida home.”

  As he said that, the courtroom wall and floor began to shake and quiver. The wall clock that hung behind the judge shook and then crashed to the floor. Glass shattered and stabbed the back of the judge’s executive chair. It was if the whole courthouse was shifting and everyone in the room panicked. The two marshals raced over to Andre and slapped hand cuffs on him. They stood him up and tossed him against a wall and then stood in front of him. The room was busy as people in the gallery made their way to the exit.

  Jean-Mary said, “What are you doing to my grandson. Get him to safety.”

  “Ma’am this is a personal matter,” a marshal said.

  “Don’t fucking disrespect my grandmother. You got the Bezel’s fucked up,” Kareem said and stood. He walked over to his grandmother.

  “Order,” the judge said and banged his gavel. “No, court adjourned for ten minutes. Deputy, please usher the jurors to their room.” To the marshals he said, “Get me the word on this movement immediately and take Mr. Bezel to the holding cells.”

  “You’re not going to lock him up if the building is under terrorist attack. What, are you crazy?” Jean-Mary said to the judge.

  “Counsel, please remove the defendant and his grandmother from the courtroom immediately,” the judge said and disappeared into his chambers.

  CHAPTER 57

  McKenzey was deep into the novel and getting a thorough understanding of what it is that Justin had been doing in an effort to get him out of jail. Lucas McKenzey was proud of Justin and could not wait to team up with him to exact revenge on the The Bezels. He was on page 93 of 102 pages and began to read the chapter titled: How we will get you out.

  “Medication!” a masculine nurse’s voice yelled across the tier. It was that time to get high, McKenzey thought and smiled. He had been prescribed Abilify to help control his sleep and bouts with emotional stress. He was also given a twice daily dose of insulin for his diabetes, which no doubt came from years of his high alcohol intake.

  There was a light knock on his cell door. “McKenzey, insulin and medication.”

  “Sure, I’m all ready to be poked.”

  “I bet you are,” the nurse shot back. “I have read news accounts of you wearing women panties. I’d say that you liked to be poked. No love it!”

  The CO escort that tagged along with the nurse said, “McKenzey, you’re a rump wrangler?”

  “Your mother is a rump wrangler!” McKenzey shot back as the food trap door opened. He stuck his arm out. and the nurse wiped his arm with an alcohol pad. “She’s one ol’ booty bandit. Probably you are too.”

  “Oh, McKenzey please,” the CO said as the nurse shot the liquid into McKenzey’s arm.

  “There you go,” the nurse said and slapped a band aid on the inmate’s arm.

  “You’re always talking shit. I still have connections,” McKenzey said. “It’ll be no problem to have you arrested for a murder that you did not commit and held for two years.”

  “Your chances of doing that are as strong as another earthquake shaking Philadelphia, asshole. Don’t threaten me!”

  “What are you going to do? Have me placed in confinement. News flash, I am there, homo,” McKenzey said. “You do not,” he grabbed his heart and winced in pain. McKenzey then slammed into the wall in his cell before he slid down to the floor.

  “McKenzey,” the nurse called out.

  He didn’t reply. Eyes closed shut and tongue hanging out of his mouth.

  “McKenzey,” the nurse called out again and looked at the CO.

  The CO grabbed his walkie talkie and yelled into it, “Medical emergency 8 south. Medical emergency 8 south.”

  “We have to open the door now,” the nurse said.

  “No, I have to wait for back up,” the CO replied.

  “We just watched a man pass out before our eyes. Get me in there now.”

  The SHU Lieutenant and other officers raced down the tier toward the nurse and CO. Other nurses and medical staff rushed in behind him.

  “LT we have to get in there. He was standing at the door and passed out. His head and body slammed against the wall and he shook a tad and then stopped. We have to get in there ASAP,” the nurse yelled.

  The lieutenant grabbed his walkie talkie and said, “Open 809 South. Open 809 South.”

  Seconds later the prison control center had opened McKenzey’s cell door. The nurse and three CO’s rushed into the cramped quarters.

  “He has no pulse and his turning blue. We have to get him to the
hospital immediately,” the nurse said and continued to feel around McKenzey’s arm for a pulse.

  The lieutenant panicked and touched McKenzey’s neck. “Are you sure?” he asked while searching. “Get an ambulance up here. We have to get him to Jefferson now!”

  CHAPTER 58

  “All rise,” the courtroom deputy said as Judge Martin had a seat on the bench.

  “Please be seated. Let’s get back to business, shall we? It appears that a 5.8 magnitude earthquake rocked a town in Virginia and apparently sent waves through the eastern seaboard. We are not under terrorist attack, at least not here in the federal courthouse, so...” The judge clasped his hands together and smiled. “Where were we? he asked rhetorically. “Ah, the Government had indicated that their first witness had a problem?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. It appears that...” Barnswell was cut off.

  “Stop right there. Let’s take this into chambers as I do not want any evidentiary material to be exposed on the record and in front of everyone.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  All parties involved took seats in the judge’s well-appointed chambers. It was not covered with the ordinary oak and wood grains. These chambers were modern and a tad futuristic.

  “Ok, let’s start with you Barnswell,” Judge Martin said.

  “Apparently, one of our witnesses had not checked in today. Her name is Margaret Summers and she was employed by Telecheck Systems. She would have testified to the numerous counterfeit checks that the defendant Kareem Bezel had written and explained how they affected interstate commerce. Her testimony would have bolstered how Andre Bezel acquired the cash to fund his illicit drug business. Well, one of them. She was supposed to fly here from Florida this morning and did not, so my assistant contacted her cell phone and received no answer.” Barnwell’s cell phone buzzed and he paused. He did not check it, but it threw him off. “Afterward, my assistant contacted Ms. Summers home and a police officer answered the phone and indicated that she had been murdered. Gunshot wound to the head. Close proximity.”

  “Ok, so your office will be investigating this?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. For starters, we would like Kareem Bezel to account for his whereabouts the last two days, as no one knows when she was killed.”

  “Objection,” Lemelle said and smiled. “No way that my client went to Florida and murdered anyone, and we will not be harassed by such foolish conjecture.”

  “Be careful with the wording, but I am not going to decide that matter, as it’s not for me.”

  “But Your Honor. This murder is very coincidental.”

  “Right, but it is an investigative matter. Now if you charge someone and you’re looking for discovery material, then that’s my territory. I won’t touch this, if no one has even been charged.”

  “Note my objection.”

  “Noted, but the Third Circuit would take my side. It’s a judgement call. You will have time to present your case and relitigate all of this, as I am declaring a mistrial here.”

  “A what? Objection,” Barnswell yelled out.

  Lemmelle smiled. He thought the tantrum was cute.

  “Ok, Barnswell, your second objection is noted. However, my concern is that the defendant would have been prejudiced by the fact that he was handcuffed and swarmed by the marshals. It’s presumed that the defendant would be prejudiced by such unless you have evidence to introduce that I would allow into the record that would indicate that he was incarcerated and that fact would have come to the light anyway, I am declaring a mistrial.”

  “If you mean a phone record or a mail record there aren’t any. The defendant has not made one call or sent out one letter. He is very clever and indeed being coached by the sagacious Kareem Bezel.”

  “Objection, Your Honor. It’s absurd that the government consistently approaches this case under the notion that Kareem Bezel controls Andre Bezel. Kareem was not at any crime scene with Andre, at least according to the discovery material that I have read. So can you please admonish the government with the caveat that he is not to continue to speak badly of my client? That in and of itself is prejudicial.”

  “This is getting out of control. Know that I don’t think sagacious has a definition that can be determined as bad. However, let’s end today and reconvene tomorrow. I want briefs on what we should do with respect to Andre Bezel being handcuffed in front of the jury.”

  “Your Honor, if I may,” Greenburg said. The judge nodded and Greenburg said, “Sir, there is no doubt that my client was prejudiced by the actions of the marshals. Not only was he handcuffed, he was dragged to his feet and slammed against a wall. It was as if he committed a crime in the courtroom.”

  “That’s precisely what I was thinking Greenburg. You say what Barnswell?”

  “I’d like to submit a brief or be given an opportunity to consult my department chief. We have laid out our case in an opening statement and I will need to check for case law that supports the jury being admonished or instructed in the end regarding this matter. It took a lot to prepare for this trial and to gather all witnesses.”

  “And we have had to prepare as well,” Greenburg added.

  “Then it’s settled. I’ll see you all tomorrow at 9 a.m. I will have the jury here at 11. That’s the best that I can do.”

  “Your Honor, I’d like to ask for bail for my client, Andre Bezel.”

  “Really,” Barnswell said. “This is laughable, but I object.”

  “And what is your objection?” the judge asked.

  “You can’t be considering this? He is on trial for murdering three people. Murderers are not afforded bail.”

  “Not true, Your Honor,” Greenburg said. “Many defendants have a bail that they cannot secure.”

  “Wow. We cannot grant this man bail,” Barnswell said.

  “Considering the fact that it is very likely that I will be declaring a mistrial, I am going to grant the defendant bail of one-million dollars and he is to surrender any passports. It is so ordered. Anything else?”

  “Objection, Judge Martin. You cannot give him bail. He murdered three people and a witness in this matter was murdered, which I am sure will be linked to the defendants.” Barnswell was out of his chair and fuming

  “Conjecture!” Greenburg said. “There is no evidence that my client had anything to do with a murder in Florida. It was established a moment ago by the government that the defendant has not made a call or sent a letter out of the prison; ergo there’s no way that he ordered a hit on a witness. This is absurd. Bail has been ordered and the defendant will fight to keep his freedom. Thank you, Your Honor,” he continued and grabbed his briefcase to leave. “May I be excused, Your Honor?”

  CHAPTER 59

  Antoine pulled in front of his West Philadelphia home and breathed a sigh of relief. He had been through hell and back and hated what he had done. Ransacking someone’s home and shooting them was one thing; killing a witness scheduled to testify at a federal trial was another thing. But he had done his thing and was back in the City of Brotherly Love as if nothing had happened. He was without a care in the world, with one exception; He had not committed the perfect crime because a few people were aware of what he’d done.

  He was in a luxury vehicle that he rented at the airport when he returned from Florida an hour ago in his alias—a foolish move that keeps him connected to the name. He stepped out of the car and grabbed his carryon bag, walked up the stairs and reached in his pocket for his house keys. He found them and stuck a key in the lock.

  It didn’t turn.

  He tried again and it wouldn’t turn. The lock appeared to have been changed.

  Hs reached for his cell phone and called Roxanne.

  “What are you calling me for now?” she asked with venom. He could smell the blood dripping from her fangs.

  “Come on. I told you that I had to go out of town.”

  “Whatever. Why are you calling me?”

  “I am at the house. My keys don’t work.”

>   “They’re not supposed too. I changed the locks. Look I am sorry,” Roxanne said and hung up the phone.

  Antoine turned around to leave the house and watched police cars descend in front of the house. The first cruiser to stop dinged Antoine’s rental and hopped out with his gun drawn.

  “Antoine, do not fucking move! Put ya hands in the air and drop the bag!”

  “What I do?” Antoine asked and dropped the bag.

  “Get on your knees and lay on the ground. Now!”

  Antoine followed that order and did not move. He was petrified, but had no idea why he had been stopped. Do they think that I am a burglar? Well they can’t if the cop yelled out my name?

  Another officer on the scene rolled up on Antoine and handcuffed him behind his back. He said, “You are under arrest for shooting in a public park at police officers and putting the lives of many innocent bystanders in danger by running down a city block waving a firearm.”

  “What! I ain’t do shit!”

  “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you...”

  “Save it! I know all that shit. I want my lawyer.”

  “No problem. I am sure that you’re going to need one.”

  * * *

  Roxanne sat in her car up the street from her home and smiled at what she had just witnessed. She had been tired of Antoine’s foolishness and was glad that the police had gotten him out of her hair. She picked up her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts before she sent out a text that put another smile on her face.