Crime & Punishment Pt. 03

Nothing goes unnoticed in this town and I was sure the rumors were flying since I filed for divorce.

"Need a favor of a different kind," I said.

"Well you can ask, but what you did for me on the bullshit charges before only comes natural to a good guy like you."

I pulled out a photo array. A set of pictures usually used to show a witness instead of a full line up to see if the witness can pick out the suspect. Only in this case they were all suspects, members of the Vultures bike gang."

I saw the recognition in Jenny's eyes.

"You recognize these guys," I said.

"Yea and I sure don't owe you anything like that," she said.

"The DA needs your help and I guarantee it'll never come back on you."

It took me the better part of an hour to convince her but in the end she agreed. We then had to concoct the story. Most of it was true she had been in the Vultures' clubhouse providing her professional services. All we added were some overheard conversations to the effect that Samuel Tatro aka Tater, or when he wasn't around Tater Tot, was in possession of a machete.

"So that is our story and all you need to do is tell it to Sergeant Brandt and he will do the rest," I said, satisfied that we would soon have the search warrant we needed.

"I trust you Mr. Sullivan to take care of me," Jenny said.

I assured her that it would be all right. In truth I was not that certain.

We found the machete in a storage locker in a rundown little town north of Albany called Watervliet. Following Tater had paid off. All we had to do now was get somebody to talk. I hauled Tater in and sat him in a room for twenty-three hours and charged him with weapons possession for the Machete. We next hauled in Little Tom aka Thomas Lexington a six foot five two hundred eight-five pound giant of a man. There was no way the five foot seven Tater had severed the head of Ricky St. Simon. I figured that honor went to little Tom.

By the time we started questioning Little Tom, he figured that Tater had ratted him out and he gave us what we needed to make the balance of the arrests. They hit on Memorial Day weekend. I was just six weeks into my eight month term.

I knew how Russell Dewit, the Republican Chairman of Van Patten County, was thinking. The DA's office seemed like the kind of plum he would be able to squeeze some juice from. In a heavily republican county an unoccupied office was a present. The temporary guy, that Sullivan kid, had seemed to be no problem when he got in trouble with that headless corpse. Now he had made arrests and the same so-call journalists who were castigating him just last week were calling him the most capable DA in the State. Christ, he was going to have to go back and rethink his entire strategy. Run that fool Dexter Eling who was someone the public knew without actually knowing how incompetent he was. He would probably be able to run a better candidate next time. That gave me the opportunity to run against Dexter. I was looking forward to it.

________________________________________

By the end of August we had been going at the counseling for almost five months. It had been many weeks since the session where Bella had torn Laura apart. Bella had spent that time building Laura back up. Laura was almost the sure confident woman I had married again. I decided there was a method in Bella's madness. I could see Laura was on the verge of forgiving herself. Even I was grudgingly ready to forgive her. What I was not willing to do was stay married to her, as far as I was concerned my life with Laura was over.

"What's the matter Pat can't get past your pride?" Bella asked in our private session.

"No. It's that I can't get past the illusions I had. I guess I married too young. I was immature, the way some people say I am acting now. She was like a goddess to me. I guess I wasn't seeing clearly."

"Who really knows the person they marry. We wear masks out in the world. Marriage is partly about learning to love the other person as they are. Not as we wish they were. You may have been naïve but you don't have to stay that way," she said.

"You're right, but it's time to grow up and move on as you've been preaching, but I intend to go forward without Laura."

Bella shook her head. "Well you're a real tough nut, I know there will come a day you'll regret what you're doing. You married Laura in the presence of God for better or worse. For you that's an eternal bond. You belong to her and God has a way of working her will so I'm going to leave this to God. I'll inform the Judge that the counseling will stop at the end of September, until then I'll work on separating you two. Is that Ok with you?" She said turning those deep eyes of hers on me.

"Sounds good," I said.

She told us the same thing in the general session and Laura looked sad, but I thought she took the news well.

When I got out Brandt was waiting in a Sherriff's highway cruiser. I was getting escorted everywhere. The death threats started showing up just after the fourth of July. By early August the FBI was telling us to take them seriously. The Vultures had hired high price New York counsel and were fighting the indictments. Both Tater and Little Tom were trying to take back their confessions. The big City lawyers were claiming the evidence was tainted and should be suppressed. They were screaming illegal search when they were not talking about rural courts and white justice which meant hicks in white sheets.

When I got in the Sherriff's vehicle Sergeant Brandt handed me his cell phone. The text was from Phil Sloane. It was one word, "Geronimo!" Brandt was smiling like a kid at Christmas. The code word was not original but it was totally unbreakable. It meant that the other side had bought the deception. It was so simple a ploy I knew it would be effective.

About three weeks before we had obtained information the FBI was going to put one of the girl friends of the Vultures in witness protection. Her name was Jasmine Turner. She was one of the few girls that hung with these black bikers who was herself black; she was also childless and looking for a new start in life. The Feds had turned her, unfortunately as they told us she knew nothing about the St. Simon murder. No problem she had the right initials JT. Those were the initials of Jenny Trudeu and were how Jenny was referred to in all our internal documents. Jenny's full name appeared nowhere. What we needed to do was convince everyone that JT stood for Jasmine Turner.

Phil, Jack Brandt, and I let the Feds sweep up Jasmine, and then begin a quiet but increasingly desperate search for her. Soon even the people in our office thought our informant was Jasmine Turner, and we could not find her. The Vultures' attorney thought they had it aced. The suppression hearing was set for the second Tuesday following Labor Day. I had a pass on counseling that day. But the Geronimo meant our real enemy had bought it. Dexter Eling had been running a hard-driving campaign to get the DA's office, that he thought by rights was his. We had found out he was due on the early morning local news hour next Sunday. We were hoping he would take a shot at me, convinced that I could not win the suppression hearing. Geronimo meant the reporter who was going to interview Dexter had been told to ask about the suppression hearing. Phil had a source at the TV station. We were going to let good old Dex walk right into it. However, we had better win that hearing.

______________________________

"I want to sit second chair on the hearing," Mary Ellen Seamon announced from in front of the big desk, that I could never get use to. I was contemplating replacing it as soon as I won the election.

"I know you don't think much of my courtroom ability, but how can I improve if you don't give me a chance," she said.

She was right of course, I didn't think much of her ability, and she would not improve unless she got more experience. I also had come to respect her; she had guts and she didn't run away when I got the DA's job like the rest had. She deserved a chance.

"Alright you can, but it isn't a free ride. You have to prepare the witness and examine her."

"But we don't have a witness- I mean-do we?"

I smiled. "The first lesson here is learning how to deceive," I said.

Mary Ellen turned out to be perfect. She spent a week writing questions and preparing to examine a witness she was not allowed to meet. I gave her all the information and coached her on how to formulae the questions including preparing two or three different versions of each question just in case there was an objection and it was sustained. Then we went over and over it. Finally Mary Ellen was allowed to examine Jenny over a secure phone line. I wasn't taking any chances.

On the second Tuesday in September, the Van Patten Courthouse was sealed; only those who needed to be there were allowed in. Jenny was in the main Courtroom behind a screen where only the sitting Judge could actually see her. She had been smuggled into the Courthouse inside a trunk and that is how she would go back out.

Judge Drego was on the bench, and was wearing a surprised look as the New York attorney's entered. Jenny was behind the thick screen.

"Your honor, we protest this arrangement. We have a right to confront the witness. He or she should not be allowed to hide their identity behind a screen," began Thomas Jacobson, chief defense counsel for Percy Jackson aka PJack.

"Mr. Sullivan?" the judge asked.

"Your honor, this is an anonymous witness for good reason. These are violent men who decapitate their victims. Our witness will be identified for these proceeding as Ms. Jane Rowe, but we will of course reveal her actually identify to your Honor."

"How is anyone to know that you have been given her true name judge, or that she is not some government plant?" Jacobson demanded. Before I could reply the Judge spoke.

"Mr. Jacobson, I know the lady. In fact I've known her since she was a little girl. I do not need the DA to tell me who she is, and now if you don't have a further objection we will take her testimony."

"Mr. Sullivan you may begin," the judge said

I leaned over and whispered to Mary Ellen, "Go to it girl."

There are three things you need to win a case- Preparation, Preparation and Luck. That day we had all three. Mary Ellen was certainly prepared, and she believed in every lie that Jenny told. We two, that is Jenny and I, had done a good job of building a false story on a structure of truth until the falsehood had become inseparable from the truth. Mary Ellen just added an element of believability. She was nervous and inexperienced and the fact I let her take the lead said I was completely sure of my case. Mary Ellen brought out Jenny's occupation on direct. Judge Drego just shook his head and asked.

"What would your parents think, Ms. Rowe?"

"Judge you know my husband died and left me with the two boys. The social security and that little bit of Workers Comp just ain't enough," Jenny replied reminding Drego of the industrial accident that had killed two and injured six others. All had been former General Electric workers. When GE pulled out, it had farmed a process to a small company started just for that purpose. The new firm did not have the insurance benefits the bigger company had. The accident left Jenny a widow and she managed the best way she could. Odd hearing Jenny's justification made me think of Laura, had she made a similar choice of family over self-respect. Maybe she had, but with far less cause.

The coup de grace was given by the other side. Jacobson and each of the defense Counsel for all five defendants had their shot, but Jenny could not be budged.

Jacobson was up last and he was honing in on Jenny's character.

"Ms. Rowe, you tell us you overheard a conversation after completing work (smirk) and heading to the bathroom to clean up for further labors (smirk). You can't recall exactly, but you had serviced four or five men to that point. CORRECT?" Jacobson asked.

"Yes that is correct," Jenny replied.

"Well Ms. Rowe, what does that make you?"

"Just what I told Mr. Sullivan the first time I met him, a skinny ass white ho," she replied.

Even Drego laughed and that is how the high powered attorney lost, because Jenny's version of the truth was now the truth.

When we exited the courthouse, all three local TV stations had their trucks waiting. I forced myself to smile and make humble appreciative statements thanking the judge and our courageous witness. We made the evening news, eleven o'clock news, and the following morning broadcasts. Dexter could not be reached for comment.

Money began coming in. I got a big contribution from Saul Solomon which I was sure was actually from Laura. I appreciated that, and Edward Kincade sent a very generous sum as did Steven. But these paled in compared to the one hundred thousand that a man I did not know from Vermont sent. Apparently his son died of a heroin overdose. It was his way of fighting back. There were many small contribution twenty five dollars or less. I was amazed. Some came with notes praising my work or thanking me. I felt like a fraud. This had started with my anger over my wife's infidelity. Now people looked up to me for things that I was personally ashamed of. When I confessed this to Bella she just turned those eyes on me that looked right through you.

"As I said when we started, this ultimately comes back to you being able to accept what you've done. It doesn't matter what the world believes when you know the truth. Contrary to what you've been trying to sell to everyone including yourself, there is something we call truth that is not variable as the circumstances dictate."

Was she right, I no longer knew? I got caught up in the elections. It was a real fight. I am no politician. Going around glad handing people is the hardest thing for someone like me. It took all my will power to endure the endless interactions with people. To add to my problems Dexter got a real break from the Feds. They cut deals with the Vultures and whisked them off to protective custody. One headless corpse was worth less than the so called important information they had on the drug trade. We tried to bargain for at least one body to prosecute but apparently some deal had been made. The state Attorney General announced the deal at a press conference. It was either go along or try to take on the state. The Governor was nice enough to send me a thank you note.

Before I knew, it was the first Tuesday in November. Election Day dawned clear and bright, but it rained later in the day. As I got up that day I though back to where I was a year before. I was preparing for the Leroy Johnson trial. Odd I had not thought about him in a long time. He had gotten probation and I heard was back with his wife. I had beaten the rap and burned the bitch and I wondered who was happier.

I made the rounds of the polls that day. I was greeted with enthusiasm by all the poll workers, democrats and republicans. About noon I ran into Tommy LeCour. He thanked me for revitalizing the party.

"Can't thank you enough Pat. Win or lose we owe you, never seen the organization so up before," he said with a broad smile on his face.

Rumor had it that turnout was way up for an off-year election. Not a surprise. In the presidential election a little over twenty five thousand votes had been cast in the county as a whole. Dexter had raised and spent over One Hundred Seventy Five Thousand dollars. I had in fact out-spent him. Together we had spent almost fifteen dollars for every vote that would be cast. It was unheard of, but the republicans still had a two to one registration advantage.

It was just before six in the evening when I exited the last polling place. Brandt was with me, he was out of uniform as were about two dozen of his fellow officers who had been campaigning for me all day. He had gotten hung up talking to some people as we exited the Polish American Community Center where the 14th election district had its polling place. I came out into the street just as it was getting dark. I heard the motorcycle before I saw it, as I looked the rider had his helmet down and was roaring toward me. He had something in his right hand a bat or a small pole. It was obvious what he intended. I could run but I was not going to escape. As he reached me I heard the shot. The rider slumped the motor cycle went out of control. It nearly missed me, but the back wheel hit me and threw me against a parked car. The motorcycle came tumbling after.

The room was not quite dark; there was light coming from the hall way through the door and a big window into the outer room. I was in a bed and I seemed to be attached to every machine around me. Someone came in and leaned over the bed. A nurse I guess.

"Easy now don't try to move."

"He's awake," she said turning to someone who was apparently seated.

A figure rose up to stand beside the nurse. I did not need to see her to know who it was, Laura. They got me water to drink and made me stay still.

"Don't try to move. You need to rest, some things aren't quite working." This turned out to be an understatement. I had the impact injuries and apparently my head injury had resulted in a stroke.

But I was in the hospital by then and the stroke was not terrible. My right arm was broken, my left arm partially paralyzed along with my left leg. My head felt as if a hammer had been taken to it, but mostly I just hurt. The doctors and nurses were upbeat and positive predicting an almost full recovery, but almost covered a lot. A very pretty female psychiatrist began visiting me on my third day in the hospital. She did not use the word, but crippled was definitely what I saw in her eyes.

"It'll take time and a lot of work on your part," said the lead doctor whose name I never quite caught.

Laura was there with me and there was no getting rid of her, what I wanted was ignored. She took over, talked to the doctors, and insisted on having things her way. One of my nurses turned out to be the recent graduate Kathy Lumious. Apparently she convinced the security that she was on my side now. She was very nice and thanked me for getting rid of the big black fucker so that she could get on with her life.

"By the way he's not you know."

"What?"

"Big, least not down there. Either that black thing is all myth or he's the exception that proves the rule. But thank God he's gone. Those stupid Feds asked me, 'Did I want to go with him?' How dumb did they think I was?"

They sent me home on the sixth day with Laura. When I tried to point out to her that we were getting a divorce, she laughed at me.

"We had that nonsense dismissed," she said, "Who's going to take care of you if not me?"

If you are interested I lost the election by less than two hundred votes. It was close and the republicans lost seven seats in the county legislature and a majority of the town councils. Dexter was happy in his victory until the news-people began asking him about the attempt on my life. The guy on the bike was dead, killed by Brandt who saw what was happening as he exited the Polish Community Center. He had simply dropped to one knee and took the guy out. However, the public wanted more blood. The editorials all bemoaned the lack of progress on the case in Van Patten. "Will the drug trade return to Van Patten now that Sullivan is gone?" apparently the news hounds were sure it would and that soon the sky would also fall in as well.

Laura did her best to isolate me from everything. She had to return to work the third week I was home. She had arranged for a male nurse/physical therapist named Donald. She converted the family room into a physical therapy room. Don worked with me relentlessly to get me back into physical shape. But he never lied to me; it was never all going to come back. I would walk maybe even fast, but not run. I would probably need a cane or crutch but not a walker. I could use my arms with some difficulty that would hopefully pass in time. Don was determined and so was I.