The Brass Verdict

I left him there and went out into the hallway to look for my client. I saw him in the center of a ring of reporters. Feeling cocky after the success of Dr. Arslanian’s testimony, he was now working the big jury – public opinion.

“All this time they’ve concentrated on coming after me, the real killer’s been out there running around free!”

A nice concise sound bite. He was good. I was about to push through the crowd to grab him, when Dennis Wojciechowski intercepted me first.

“Come with me,” he said.

We walked down the hallway away from the crowd.

“What’s up, Cisco? I was wondering where you’ve been.”

“I’ve been busy. I got the report from Florida. Do you want to hear it?”

I had told him what Elliot had told me about fronting for the so-called organization. Elliot’s story had seemed sincere enough but in the light of day I reminded myself of a simple truism – everybody lies – and told Cisco to see what he could do about confirming it.

“Give it to me,” I said.

“I used a PI in Fort Lauderdale who I’ve worked with before. Tampa’s on the other side of the state but I wanted to go with a guy I knew and trusted.”

“I understand. What did he come up with?”

“Elliot’s grandfather founded a phosphate-shipping operation seventy-eight years ago. He worked it, then Elliot’s father worked it and then Elliot himself worked it. Only he didn’t like getting his hands dirty in the phosphate business and he sold it a year after his father died of a heart attack. It was a privately owned company, so the record of the sale is not public. Newspaper articles at the time put the sale at about thirty-two million.”

“What about organized crime?”

“My guy couldn’t find a whiff of it. Looked to him like it was a good, clean operation – legally, that is. Elliot told you he was a front and he was sent out here to invest their money. He didn’t say anything about him selling his own company and bringing the money out here. The man’s lying to you.”

I nodded.

“Okay, Cisco, thanks.”

“You need me in court? I’ve got a few things I’m still working on. I heard juror number seven went missing this morning.”

“Yeah, he’s in the wind. And I don’t need you in court.”

“Okay, man, I’ll talk to you.”

He headed off toward the elevators and I was left to stare at my client holding forth with the reporters. A slow burn started in me and it gained heat as I waded into the crowd to get to him.

“Okay, that’s all, people,” I said. “No further comment. No further comment.”

I grabbed Elliot by the arm, pulled him out of the crowd and walked him down the hall. I shooed a couple of trailing reporters away until we were finally far enough from all other ears and could speak privately.

“Walter, what were you doing?”

He was smiling gleefully. He made a fist and pumped it into the air.

“Sticking it up their asses. The prosecutor and the sheriffs, all of them.”

“Yeah, well, you better wait on that. We’ve still got a ways to go. We may have won the day but we haven’t won the war yet.”

“Oh, come on. It’s in the bag, Mick. She was fucking outstanding in there. I mean, I want to marry her!”

“Yeah, that’s nice but let’s see how she does on cross before you buy the ring, okay?”

Another reporter came up and I told her to take a hike, then turned back to my client.

“Listen, Walter, we need to talk.”

“Okay, talk.”

“I had a private investigator check your story out in Florida and I just found out it was bullshit. You lied to me, Walter, and I told you never to lie to me.”

Elliot shook his head and looked annoyed with me for taking the wind out of his sails. To him, being caught in the lie was a minor inconvenience, an annoyance that I would even bring it up.

“Why did you lie to me, Walter? Why’d you spin that story?”

He shrugged and looked away from me when he spoke.

“The story? I read it in a script once. I turned the project down, actually. But I remembered the story.”

“But why? I’m your lawyer. You can tell me anything. I asked you to tell me the truth and you lied to me. Why?”

He finally looked me in the eyes.

“I knew I had to light a fire under you.”

“What fire? What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Mickey. Let’s not get-”

He was turning to go back to the courtroom but I grabbed him roughly by the arm.

“No, I want to hear. What fire did you light?”

“Everybody’s going back in. The break is over and we should be in there.”

I gripped him even harder.

“What fire, Walter?”

“You’re hurting my arm.”

I relaxed my grip but didn’t let go. And I didn’t take my eyes off his.

“What fire?”

He looked away from me and put an “aw, shucks” grin on his face. I finally let go of his arm.

“Look,” he said. “From the start I needed you to believe I didn’t do it. It was the only way for me to know you would bring your best game. That you would be goddamn relentless.”

I stared at him and saw the smile become a look of pride.

“I told you I could read people, Mick. I knew you needed something to believe in. I knew if I was a little bit guilty but not guilty of the big crime, then it would give you what you needed. It would give you your fire back.”