Twisted Justice Page 2

  “So Sweeney had someone bug the boat, then sent the recording to the cops. It’s an illegal wiretap. Can’t be use in evidence.”

  “We both know the prosecution will find a way around that.”

  “And it’s not enough evidence to support a capital murder charge.”

  “They’ll find more. Probably have already.”

  He tried to stay calm. Maria’s answers weren’t making him feel better. But he knew she was right. “If Sweeney is behind the recording, did he also off Belasco?”

  “Not himself. He’d get someone else to pull the trigger. Someone provided with a strong incentive to never reveal who hired him. And if that’s true, the killer is probably miles away by now.”

  “True.”

  “Which means our chances of finding him are virtually nil.”

  “Also true.”

  “And the chances of tracing the murder back to Sweeney...?”

  “Nonexistent. I hear what you’re saying. Look, I don’t expect you to handle this case. I can represent myself, at least—”

  “There is no way in hell that’s happening.”

  He pulled back. “Don’t be shy, Maria. Tell me what you really think.”

  “I’m Latinx, Dan. I don’t mince words. You can’t represent yourself.”

  “I can.”

  “You’re stupid sometimes, Dan, but not that stupid. You know the cliché. The lawyer who represents himself has a fool for a client. You can’t see the big picture, especially not with an ego the size of the Taj Mahal. I will handle this defense.”

  “Mr. K might not like that.”

  “I don’t give a damn. I—” Her voice choked. She averted her eyes. “I—care about you, Dan. I’m not going to let Sweeney and his network of thugs get you executed.”

  He wasn’t sure what to say. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Don’t make a big deal out of it.” She still avoided eye contact. “You’d do the same for me.”

  “True enough.” He knew Maria was doing her best to remain calm, but he was boiling inside. As a boy, he’d stood by helplessly as the cops hauled away his father and locked him up for a murder he didn’t commit. He died in prison, long before Dan was old enough to help. Now someone was trying to do the same thing to him. And trapped in this detention center, he couldn’t do anything about it. “Okay, your first assignment. Get me out of here.”

  “Bail on a violent capital offense? That will be tough.”

  “I’m a solid citizen with no record and plenty of money.”

  “Yeah. I’ll run that up the flagpole and see who salutes.”

  “I need to get out of here.”

  “I agree.” She paused. “Jimmy won’t be able to carry on if you miss the weekly Gloomhaven game.”

  “You’re right. Do it for him.”

  She almost smiled as she pulled a few documents out of her briefcase. “Do you have any idea what happened? Any at all?”

  “None.”

  “Any alibi witnesses?”

  “When did the murder occur?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “When the cops arrived, I was with Camila.”

  “Your girlfriend and alleged co-conspirator. That’s not helpful.”

  “Sorry. We were celebrating my big courtroom win and...you know. It got kind of...intimate and—”

  “Would you stop already? Double ick.”

  “By the way, where is Camila?”

  “In the women’s detention center.”

  “Have you talked to her?”

  “No.”

  “Please do. Right after you leave here. She must be devastated. Her Senate campaign was barely getting started. Tell her you’re on her case and she shouldn’t worry.”

  “Dan.” Maria drew in her breath. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “For starters, I can’t tell her she shouldn’t worry. Of course she should worry. She’s facing murder charges. Only a complete imbecile wouldn’t worry.”

  “Then tell her we’ll do everything possible to—”

  “I can’t do that, either.”

  He tensed. “Why not?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “No.”

  “And that’s why you can’t represent yourself. You’ve got blinders on. Let me spell it out. You and Camila have conflicting interests.”

  “What, you think Camila is the murderer?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You think she’s going to make a deal with the prosecution? Sell me out for immunity?”

  “The truth is, I don’t know what she’s going to do.”

  “You never liked her.”

  “That has nothing to do with this. There’s an inherent conflict of interest between co-defendants. You need to be tried separately. And you each need a lawyer who puts their client first.”

  He flung himself back in his chair. “This is truly frustrating.”

  “Because you know I’m right?”

  “Because—Because—” He exhaled heavily. “Okay, fine. Because I know you’re right.”

  “Camila won’t have any trouble finding good representation. But my focus is going to be on you, big boy.”

  He didn’t like it. But it made sense. And reinforced his determination to get out of jail. He’d spent his professional life concocting schemes to benefit clients. Now he needed to concoct something to benefit himself.

  Maria checked her watch. “Anything else I can do for you before they boot me out of here?”

  “Yes. Could you bring my Air Jordans? These plastic sandals suck.”

  “You know they won’t allow that.”

  “You’re the team sorceress. You can make anything happen.”

  “Not that.”

  He sighed. “Could you at least bring some of my sea salt vanilla with caramel ribbons? I just made a batch. Took three days. And I never got to taste it.”

  She gave him a small smile. “Poor sweet baby. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Chapter 3

  Dan walked cautiously from the jailhouse shower. He knew it was a cliché, and he knew this was jail, not prison, but he still made a point of not spending too long in the shower and never bending over. Almost everyone here looked like someone he would skitter away from in a dark alley. Worse, he recognized some of the faces. And he was certain they recognized him.

  He’d spent his entire career getting people off the hook, and he had the best win-loss record in the county. So how was it he recognized so many incarcerated faces? Some he had simply seen lurking about the courthouse, perpetually in one kind of trouble or another. Some were notorious jailhouse snitches, to be avoided at all costs. Some were gang members. Even when he didn’t know their faces, he knew the look. Hardened criminals. Men who had been behind bars so frequently it didn’t bother them anymore.

  He thought Maria’s chances of getting him out on bail were small. But he hoped that cross she wore around her neck had earned her a miracle. For that matter, his friend Jazlyn Prentice, a top prosecutor in the D.A.’s office, was probably in charge now that Belasco was on a slab. Maybe she could pull some strings. Doubtful, but he needed some source of hope if he was going to get through this day.

  He grabbed a towel to dry himself off—when a familiar voice shattered his ruminations.

  “Well, lookee who we got here. Goodness gracious how the mighty have fallen.”

  He turned slowly and saw Jack Crenshaw, former agent with Immigration and Customs Enforcement, a man with a cowboy fetish and a nasty streak that had landed him in prison. Thanks to Dan.

  Wonderful. He had taken a serious beating only a few weeks before and he still wasn’t anywhere near completely healed.

  He wrapped the towel around his waist, searching for a guard. None in sight. “Shouldn’t you be in the state pen?”

  “I’m on a temporary transfer,” Crenshaw explained. Tall and wiry. Not wearing the orange coveralls the other inmates wore. Even without his cowboy hat, he
seemed to be wearing a cowboy hat. “Feds need me to testify in an ongoing investigation.”

  “You’re snitching on someone. What did they offer you? Time off?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Do you even know the defendant you’re condemning?”

  Crenshaw took a step closer. “Are you suggesting that I might perjure myself? Danny boy, I’m a straight-shooter.”

  “You must be on the go-to list. Whenever the cops need a witness. They know who to call.”

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Danny. I reached out to them. And I didn’t ask for immunity, money, or anything else.” He stepped even closer, till they were practically breathing one another’s air. “But I knew that if I was going to appear before a grand jury, they’d have to transfer me to this particular hoosegow. Where you are.”

  Dan felt his throat go dry. “You offered testimony...to get near me?”

  “Word travels fast, Danny boy. Never expected to see you behind bars. And knowing what a tricky little coyote you are, I don’t expect you to be here long. So I plan to take advantage while I can.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Crenshaw.” He took a step back. He didn’t want to show any weakness, but he also knew that, given his current condition, he wouldn’t last long in a serious fight. “You’ll be caught. Charged. Assault while incarcerated. Three more years behind bars, minimum. Is it really worth it?”

  Crenshaw didn’t blink. “For me? Yes. It is absolutely worth it. I’ve taken care of the guards. If you’re thinking the cavalry is gonna rush in to save your bacon, think again.” His eyes narrowed. “You ruined my life, Danny. We got unfinished business and I intend to wrap it up, right here and now.”

  “I didn’t make you do what you did. You made your own choices. All I did was find out. And for that you’re going to kill me?”

  Crenshaw chuckled. “Naw. I’m just gonna mess you up. Bad. See how you function without the pretty boy looks. A couple broken legs might end your kitesurfing career. I want you to suffer. Like I’ve been suffering.”

  He had to act brave, even if he didn’t feel it. “And you think you’ve got the chops to do it? Only thing you’ll get is a prison stay that takes you to the grave.”

  Crenshaw laughed again, much too loudly. Where were the guards? “Did you think I was gonna do this myself? I’m not an idiot. Let me introduce you to some friends.” Two men emerged from the background. Big men. “This here is Willy. He’s been charged with grand larceny. And since bail was set at a hundred thousand bucks, he’s gonna be here for a while. He needs some kind of hobby to occupy himself.”

  “Prison assault won’t help him pass the time. It will guarantee he gets more time.”

  Willy was at least a foot taller than him, with big meaty fists and a neck as thick as a cured ham. Broad face. Shaven head. Gold tooth right up front.

  “And this other fella is Durant,” Crenshaw continued. “Drug offense. Used to be an enforcer. He’s what you might call a professional mauler. Not the kind of guy who plays by the Queensbury rules.”

  Durant smiled. Huge pumped biceps. Screwed-up nose. Tattoos. Bloodlust in his eyes.

  “Don’t be a patsy. You’re being used. Manipulated. Both of you.”

  Crenshaw whistled. “Look at the Artful Dodger now. Do you think your fancy words and courtroom tricks are gonna save you? Hold him.”

  The two musclebound men grabbed him, one on each side, pinning his arms behind his back.

  “Let me see if I can find the right spot.” Crenshaw reared back his fist and plowed into Dan’s lower right side.

  He cried out. Damn! Crenshaw had done his homework. When he was beaten before, they’d cracked two ribs on that side and they still weren’t completely healed.

  His abdomen exploded. He felt his knees go weak. The pain was so intense he couldn’t think straight.

  “Did you enjoy that, Danny boy?” Crenshaw grinned, big and broad. “I know I did. Didn’t hear a cracking sound, though. Must not have hit you hard enough. Let me try again.” Before he’d finished the sentence, Crenshaw landed another blow, hard and fast.

  It felt like Crenshaw’s fist plowed right through his body. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He felt his face contort like a squeezed grape.

  He had to do something to stop this punishment. Fast.

  He gazed up at Willy, the brute on his left, trying to form words with a tongue that barely functioned. “Habeas corpus.”

  Willy’s head tilted. “Whatsat?”

  “Ignore him,” Crenshaw said. “Punch him in the face till he shuts his trap.”

  “Habeas corpus. That’s how you get out.”

  Crenshaw ran forward. “I’ll kick your teeth out if you don’t—”

  Willy raised his hand. “One minute.” He looked back at Dan. “Talk.”

  “You’re William Martinez, right? I read about you and I have a very good memory. You’ve been locked up for more than a year due to your inability to make bail. File a writ of habeas corpus. The Eleventh Circuit has released people in your situation before. Some judges believe the whole concept of money bail is an unconstitutional infringement on Fourth Amendment rights.”

  Willy stared at him. “That takes lawyers.”

  “Contact Legal Services. I know some people there. Ask for Kimberly. Tell her Dan sent you. They’ll take your case. They don’t often get one they can actually win. They could get you out in a week. Spend the time before trial with your family, not here.”

  The other brute, Durant, lowered himself to eye level. “That habeas thing work for me?”

  “No. You haven’t been here long enough. But you were in a Southside gang, right? I recognize the tattoos. And you had a drug habit. Cocaine, judging from the shape your nose is in. Those are mitigating circumstances.”

  “That good?”

  “You’ll have to swear off gangs and commit to drug treatment. But there’s a growing feeling that filling prisons with drug addicts is expensive and pointless. Better to get them help. If you’ll commit to three months in rehab, I might be able to get you off with probation.”

  “I can’t afford no rehab.”

  “There’s a fund. We’ll get the money.”

  “You not messin’ with me?”

  “No. But if you take part in an assault behind bars, you won’t get squat from anyone. Courts probably won’t even hear your case.”

  Crenshaw looked as if he were about to explode. “Why are you listenin’ to this hogwash? I hired you to hurt him!”

  Dan pushed himself to his feet, even though every movement caused pain. “You hired because you thought they were stupid. Turns out they’re not.” He turned back to the two men holding him down. “I meant what I said, Willy. I’ll call my friends at Legal Services, first chance I get. And if I can’t get out in time to rep you, Durant, my partners will. That’s a promise.”

  “Don’t let him get away with this!”

  He ignored Crenshaw’s ranting. “So maybe it’s in your best interests to make sure I survive my stay behind bars. I’ll get on your cases immediately, boys.” He thought a moment. “You might even spread the word. I bet you’re not the only ones in this hellhole who could use some legal assistance. While I’m stuck here, I might as well be of use.”

  The two men released him.

  “Don’t let him do this!” Crenshaw squealed.

  Dan laid his hands on Willy and Durant’s shoulders. “Spread the word. Daniel Pike and the Last Chance Lawyers are taking clients. From behind bars.”

  Chapter 4

  Dan expected to see Maria sitting on the other side of the Plexiglas screen, but to his surprise, he found another of his partners. Maybe the team was rotating visitation duties.

  “Oh my God, Dan, how are you?” Jimmy peered through the screen, eyes glistening. “Are you okay?”

  Since the man was already on the verge of tears, he decided not to mention the brutal attack in the showers. “I’m fine.” Except when I move. “What’s
happening back at the office?”

  “Chaos. Absolute chaos. Maria’s doing her best to hold it all together, but it isn’t the same. We need our Aquaman. Not Mera.” He paused. “Actually, she’s more like Harley Quinn.”

  “Maria is a highly capable attorney.”

  “But she isn’t you. She isn’t a leader.”

  “She can be anything she wants to be.”

  “That’s just it. She doesn’t want to be. She wants you home. We all do.” He brushed the heel of his palm against his eyes. “I’m sorry I’m being so emotional. Hank says I didn’t sleep a wink last night.” Hank was Jimmy’s husband, an ER doctor. They were both African-American, both a bit portly, and both fonder of cardigans than most people living in sunny Florida. “I never expected anything like this to happen.”

  He wanted to reach through the Plexiglas and comfort his colleague. “It will all work out in the end. Promise. These charges are garbage. I’m confident they’ll be dismissed.” A complete lie, but if he didn’t say something, he feared the man would break out in a full-on crying jag.

  “I’m not. Your case has been assigned to Judge Hembeck.”

  Oh, the irony. He had appeared before Hembeck on several occasions—as an attorney. She was extremely conservative, always leaning toward the prosecution. Probably the closest thing this county had to a “hanging judge.” “That’s okay.”

  “You’re all over the papers. And social media.”

  “Does that surprise you? Don’t let it get to you.”

  “Okay...” Jimmy looked down at his feet. Something was bothering him.

  “Out with it.”

  “Out with what?”

  “Come on. We’re friends. Better out than in.”

  Jimmy hesitated. “I—I ate your ice cream.”

  “The sea salt vanilla with caramel ribbons?” Their office was a Snell Isle mansion Mr. K had converted into a workplace. Among other fabulous features, it had a fully functional kitchen. “Good. I made it for eating.”