Final Verdict Page 4
“I don’t think there is enough money in the world to ask me to do this.”
Garrett cut in, obviously attempting to alleviate the tension. “How is this a Last Chance Lawyer case? Sweeney can afford to get any lawyer he wants.”
“I don’t think he can,” K replied.
“He’s filthy rich.”
“Not sure about that, either. He appears to be suffering severe monetary setbacks. The courts are threatening to seize all his assets to pay his debts.”
“There are tons of lawyers in this town,” Maria said. “He’s a prominent citizen. A prestige client. He’ll be able to find someone.”
“Not so far,” K informed her. “He made his traditional one phone call to the lawyers he has on retainer. They turned him down cold.” And how did K know that? “Apparently Sweeney already owes them more than a million bucks and can’t pay it. Since that porn operation was discovered in the basements of what the locals call Sweeney Shelters, he’s become a pariah.”
Garrett nodded. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
“And it couldn’t happen to a more deserving person,” Dan added.
“Come on, Dan, open your heart,” Mr. K said. “This is a man in need. I know you’re used to representing indigent clients and homeless people, but your mission statement is to help those in need.”
“No. My mission statement is to help those who deserve help.”
“That’s not what you told us. Back when Maria first approached you about joining this firm. You said you had a passion for justice. Your father was railroaded by the government and you wanted to make sure that didn’t happen to anyone else.”
“My father was a hero. A public servant.”
“And Sweeney is less than perfect. I’ll grant you that. But this is a frame. Everything about it seems wrong.”
“Jake Kakazu wouldn’t charge Sweeney without a reason.”
“Oh, he had a reason. A corpse tumbled out of the freezer in a room that only Sweeney could get into.”
“I don’t want to get involved.”
“C’mon, Dan. Sweeney knew the cops were coming. He’s too smart to stash a corpse where it would inevitably be found and blamed on him.”
“Maybe he didn’t think the cops would discover his private room.”
“If he were stupid, he might think that. But he’s not stupid.”
“He is a crook.”
“But a smart one. His MO throughout his entire career has been to use operatives to commit illegal acts so they can’t be traced back to him.”
“I don’t care if he committed the murder or not. If he goes behind bars, the world will be a better place.”
“If he goes behind bars,” K replied, “he’s a dead man.”
“Then let him die,” Dan said, teeth clenched.
The room fell silent for a long time.
Eventually, Dan broke the quiet. “I’ve been a good soldier for you, K. I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do, even when I didn’t want to. But the line must be drawn somewhere. I’m drawing it here.”
“I anticipated that you might feel this way, Dan. I wish I could be there in person to persuade you.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
“Someone else would like to talk to you about this.”
“There is no one on earth who—”
“My emissary is at your front door as we speak.”
Dan’s head drooped. The last thing he needed was some flunky twisting his arm. “Not interested.”
Maria squeezed his leg. “If they’re already at the door...what can it hurt?”
Dan grudgingly pushed himself off the sofa. “This is not going to change my mind.” He walked across the living room and flung open the front door.
Prudence Hancock stood on the other side. “Hello, handsome.”
Chapter 6
Dan held up his hands, palms out. “Please don’t start.”
Prudence walked past him, not waiting for an invitation. “Fine. No banter, no flirting.”
“This is not the time for it.”
“True. But I thought it turned you on.”
Dan eye-checked Maria, who did not appear happy. “Look, Prudence, let me save you some time. Nothing you say is going to alter my opinion in the slightest. I will not be part of your boss’s coverup, scheme, murder, manipulation, or whatever this is. That man has been a bloody thorn in my side for years. He’s lied, cheated. Told lies about me and my family. Bribed witnesses, threatened my friends, and orchestrated one of the largest criminal conspiracies in the history of the State of Florida.”
Prudence pivoted and, to his surprise, he saw her eyes widen, her lips tremble. “He’s dying.”
It took Dan a moment to find his tongue. “You mean...dying inside? Doesn’t want to go directly to jail?”
“I mean dying. Pancreatic cancer. He doesn’t have much time left. He was trying to build a legacy. A huge estate to leave to the city and its charities. A business that would continue employing people for decades. The artwork sufficient to create the greatest museum in the Southeast. That was his dream. And now it’s shattered, falling apart before his eyes.” She paused, wiping her eyes. “Dr. Sweeney is accustomed to the finest lifestyle. Which he earned. And now, the only thing in his future is prison. And the grave. Because he’s been framed by a criminal mob that wants him out of their way.”
Dan shook his head, as if somehow that might prevent her words from getting inside his brain. “Your boss has been involved in crooked enterprises for decades.”
“Perhaps,” she said quietly.
“He has hired thugs to hurt, maim, and kill. He’s obstructed justice. He maligned my father in public.”
“I know.”
“And now, I’m supposed to be sympathetic because—”
“He’s dying.”
Dan threw himself on the sofa wordlessly.
“No one will take his case,” Prudence added. “Unless something changes, he’s going to show up at his arraignment with a public defender.”
Dan had a high opinion of most public defenders, who worked a huge caseload and didn’t get paid nearly what they deserved. But the humiliation of standing up in court and admitting he’d been appointed an attorney might be the comeuppance Sweeney deserved.
“You know how it is,” Prudence continued. “Once the feds sniff vulnerability, they attack like scavengers. We’ve had investigators swarming all over his office. I can’t stand to go in there anymore.”
“Do you seriously expect us to feel sorry for him?” Maria asked. “After all he’s done?”
“No, I suppose not.” Prudence drew in her breath. “‘The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed: It blesseth him that gives...and him that takes.’”
Dan didn’t expect Prudence to be a Shakespearean scholar—or to make a valid point.
His father always told Dan to keep the faith. Meaning stick to your principles. Do the right thing. Go the extra mile. And he had another favorite saying: When you forgive someone, you do a favor for two people.
“Do you know how many enemies Dr. Sweeney has behind bars?” Prudence asked. “If he’s in there long, he’ll be butchered.”
“Regardless of who represents him,” Dan said, “his chances of getting bail are slim to none.”
“Even if you can’t get him out, you could get him moved somewhere safer. That’s probably best. I’m not sure he’s safe on the outside. I’m not sure I am. I’ve spotted people watching me. I had one of those doorbell cameras installed at my house.”
“Look, I’m not taking your boss’s case. But even if I wanted to, he wouldn’t agree to it. He hates me, as he has mentioned more than once.”
“Yes,” Prudence agreed, “but it’s hate based upon admiration.”
“Hard pass. Sweeney would never go along with it.”
“To the contrary. I spoke to him about it. This was his idea.
”
That took him by surprise. He thought Mr. K contacted her. “Sweeney—wants this?”
“Why else would I be here?” Prudence took a few steps forward, forcing him to make eye contact. “Do you think I wanted to descend into this lion’s den? Do you think begging is something I enjoy? But you’re the best. And he knows it. Has nothing to do with his personal feelings. You’re the best there is.”
Jimmy broke the silence. “Hey team—wakeup call. I can’t believe we’re even considering this. The thought of it makes me want to lose my lunch. And I loved my lunch.”
Garrett raised a hand. “Let’s hear her out. Then we can discuss it in private.”
“Ok,” Dan said, “you’ve explained everything—except, what’s in it for me? What’s in it for my firm? Why would we want to do this? Your boss is a disgusting excuse for a human being, and the fact that he may have an illness does not make him any less disgusting. You admit he has no money to pay us. And the damage to the firm’s reputation would be incalculable.”
“Is that what it all comes down to?” Prudence asked. “Your reputation?”
“I’ve spent years building that rep. Even people who don’t like me know what I represent.”
“Come on. You’ve represented all kinds of criminal scum. But you did it because you believed they were innocent.”
“That’s exactly right. And—” He stopped short, frozen.
He grasped her point.
Prudence stepped even closer, her eyes still wide. “Listen to me carefully. Dr. Sweeney did not commit this murder. I know that for a fact. I am intimately involved in his day-to-day activities. It is simply not possible.”
Dan raised an eyebrow. “How intimately?”
“Don’t be smarmy. We’ve never been anything but professional colleagues. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about him.” Dan realized he had never seen her like this. She almost resembled...a human being. “I’ve been with him for years. I am not exaggerating when I say I know about everything he does. And some of it isn’t pretty. But this is a fact—he did not commit this murder. He is innocent.”
Dan turned away. “I’m not convinced.”
Prudence grabbed his arms and forced him to face her. “At least give me this. You go meet with him. You’re a lawyer, you can get in. Talk to him for ten minutes. And if you’re not convinced of his innocence after ten minutes, don’t take the case. But if you have doubts....” She folded her arms across her ample chest. “You’ve been saying for years that you want to prevent innocent people from being railroaded. Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.” She cast her eyes around the room. “You say you’re the Last Chance Lawyers. Prove it!”
Dan’s head shook. “I don’t know...”
For the first time since Prudence arrived, Dinah spoke, quietly but distinctly. “That is what you told me, Dan. You said we worked for people who need us, whether they’re pretty or poor or even pleasant. You said we performed a necessary function. You said that without defense attorneys willing to take unpopular cases, the system falls apart.”
The only sound was the crackle of static from Mr. K’s Zoom call, which reminded Dan that he was listening, along with everyone else.
“Fine. I’ll meet with Sweeney. But if I’m not convinced he’s innocent—I’m out of there.”
Prudence exhaled heavily. She looked as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “I very much appreciate this.”
Dan raised a finger. “I’m not promising anything.”
“I understand. But I am...relieved to see that there are still some people with principles in this country.” She glanced at her watch. “Visiting hours end at five. What are you waiting for?” She waved her hands, as if urging him toward the door. “Saddle up. The Last Chance Lawyers ride again.”
Chapter 7
Alejandro Hernandez despised the United States, its people, its government, and everything about it. His business required him to come here from time to time, but he obtained no pleasure from the visit. In his homeland, El Salvador, people still had some perspective. They knew what was important. Family. Loyalty. Honor. But in America there was no honor, little loyalty, and the very notion of family had been eroded by easy divorce, loose morals, and the insipid need to accept every possible variation of love and coupling.
He reached for his water with a wrinkled hand. He was appalled by what he saw around him at this bar, Beachcombers, where he had gathered with his two top lieutenants in this region. Women sitting with women. Holding hands. Kissing. Single women sitting at the bar in pants, dishonoring their families. Men with hair like girls and no idea how to drink like a man. It baffled him. How a country with values like this had ever become so rich was beyond his imagining. He knew the American empire was in decline. And he was glad.
He would have preferred a different locale, but public meetings were less likely to be bugged or surveilled. His late lieutenant, Fabian Fuentes, held meetings here. For want of a better idea, he continued the tradition.
“Report,” he said to Jose, the younger man sitting opposite him. Jose had worked for Fuentes before he died. “Will the police charge Sweeney for murdering our brother?”
“No way,” Jose said. He was dressed like an American, T-shirt and jeans, and appeared to have acquired some of their ways of speaking. Jose had been in Florida too long. “The cops say Sweeney acted in self-defense.”
Hernandez smirked. “He probably did. How did that bloated whale ever get the drop on Fabian?”
“I don’t believe he did,” the other accomplice said. Santiago had come to the States recently, to replace an associate named Roberto who had been murdered. “Fabian was quick and strong. No fat man in a three-piece suit could best him.”
“And yet, he did,” Hernandez said.
“He must’ve had help.”
“However it happened, Fabian is dead. And killing my top lieutenant was an act of war. Which must be answered.”
“Sweeney is behind bars and will remain there for some time,” Jose said. “Though he claims he was framed.”
Hernandez’ smile spread from one side of his face to the other. “That is what people would expect him to say, isn’t it?”
“Of course.”
“Have the police identified the victim?”
“No. But they will.”
“Let them. That will only make the case against Sweeney stronger. What about the woman?”
“Dead by now. A million miles from here.”
Hernandez gestured toward the waitress, a tiny blonde wisp who did not appear old enough to enter, much less to serve. The American preference for women too insubstantial to be of use mystified him. Did her father know she worked here? Did he know what riffraff propositioned her every day? “I’d like a Pilsener.”
The waitress tilted her head. “I’m not sure we have that.”
“Then you will get some.”
“I’m not allowed to leave—”
“Do not give me excuses.”
“But—” She forced a smile. “Isn’t there something else I could do for you?”
“I am not interested in the dubious pleasures of your immature body. Bring me my drink. Now.”
She scurried away, scared and perplexed. He predicted ten minutes at best before she returned with his beer.
He had always treated women respectfully—but firmly. They liked that. They wanted a strong man to take control. They felt safe knowing someone more capable was in command. That was a lesson he had learned from his grandfather, the man who started this organization.
He would not be the one who let his grandfather’s legacy slip through his fingers. He had to get the family business back on track. But that meant he must eliminate the factors that had damaged the business so severely.
“Watch Sweeney whenever possible.”
“I will.”
“And then we must focus on the lawyer. Pike. What are we doing to eliminate that blot?”
“
He has proved...resilient,” Jose explained. “We have struck against him on several occasions. And we have hurt him. But he keeps rising from the dead.”
“Put a stake in his heart. End it.”
“It is not so simple. He has many friends. And he knows the law.”
“That means nothing. Put a gun to his temple and fire. That is the law.”
“It is not so simple...”
“Of course it is simple. Killing is always simple.”
“Let me be direct, sir,” Santiago said. “If we eliminate Pike, one of his partners will take his place.”
“Then kill them all!” Hernandez’ hands shook. “Kill every last one of them.”
“That would attract more attention than you want.”
“Fine. What do you suggest?”
Jose glanced at his colleague before answering. “In the past, Pike has not been intimidated by threats to himself. But that is not the only way to control someone.”
“Stop dancing and spit it out.”
“Pike has several partners who I believe he cares about deeply. And a sister.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Santiago and I will monitor the situation. Perhaps, with Sweeney out of the picture, Pike will move on to another crusade.”
“And if he doesn’t? If he continues to endanger my grandfather’s business?”
“Then we act. So quickly and decisively that Pike is powerless to oppose us. I see a new era ahead for our organization, sir. A better future. With renewed profits for all.” He paused, taking a long drink of his whiskey. “And all our enemies in the grave.”
Chapter 8
Maria kept Dinah company while Dan spoke to the elderly gentleman in charge of jailhouse visitation. They’d arrived late and would normally have to wait until tomorrow to speak to Sweeney. They couldn’t play the “emergency attorney conference” card since Sweeney hadn’t hired them yet. But Dan had known this old coot for a long time and seemed to have an affinity for extracting favors in an old-boy-network way she would never understand.
She noticed Dinah surveying her surroundings with a nervous expression. Despite the lateness of the hour, there were still many people running about, some loudly expressing their displeasure with law enforcement. A parade of arrestees streamed past them on the way to the holding cells. The room was painted a dirty green and was in serious need of a good scrubbing.