Bill Harvey Collection

by Peter O'Mahoney

  “He would have hated you.”

  Lewis moved his hands to the table and gripped the edge until his knuckles turned white. “He liked me. And he loved his daughter.”

  It was clear that this man had anger management issues.

  If anybody pushed the right buttons, Lewis wouldn’t be able to hold back. His combination of arrogance, success, and testosterone had made him a melting pot of anger.

  Not what Harvey needed right now.

  “Hardgrave loved his daughter.” Harvey lowered his tone of voice, trying to bring a sense of calm to the situation. “He would have done anything for her.”

  “He did like me.” Lewis scoffed, defending his reputation. “He really liked my ties. I guess we could relate to each other on our shared ability to make the perfect color choice. He loved a well-tailored, brightly colored suit, as do I. I remember the last time we met, he said that my tie, this orange one that I’m wearing now actually, almost blended in exactly with his new armchair. He asked me to stand against it to check if the color matched, and sure enough, it did. We bonded over our love of color.”

  “It certainly is a brightly colored tie.”

  “It’s my favorite. I have six ties the exact same as this one. Once I find something I really like, I try really hard to hold onto it. I even let Hardgrave borrow one of my ties once.”

  “Sounds like a charming little relationship.”

  “It certainly was as far as his daughter was concerned too,” Lewis quipped.

  Harvey didn’t answer; instead, he continued to stare at Lewis, watching how the man reacted under the silence. He sat comfortably, waiting for Harvey to continue. He was confident. Perhaps too confident. “Tell me about Detective Pitt.”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything. If you want information, you can ask me nicely for it.”

  This was his turf. His place. And he was not going to spill the beans easily for a demanding lawyer.

  Playing the game, Harvey retreated. “My apologies. For the sake of Carlos’ freedom, can you please tell me what you know about Detective Pitt?”

  “I know him.” Lewis adjusted his tie, so it pointed straight down the middle of his shirt. “Don’t like him though.”

  “Is he on the take?”

  Lewis scrunched up his face a little, looking to the right and thinking hard. “Not that I know of. He could be, but I haven’t heard it. Roberto knows him better than I do.”

  “Roberto Miles?”

  “That’s right. He and Pitt have had a few run-ins over the years. Pitt has arrested him a few times, but that was years ago. If someone arrested me, I would make sure that they paid the price for it, but not Roberto. Roberto seems to like talking to the Smurfs.”

  The waitress’ hand shook as she placed a coffee in front of Lewis, but he didn’t even acknowledge her existence.

  “Where were you and Carlos on the day that his house was raided?”

  “At the diner. El Mejor. We go there a lot, and we were having lunch, just the same as we have done many, many times before. Eating tacos and talking about the world. It was just another day for us. We’re family. He’s my cousin. We were just family talking about old times.”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  The strong males locked eyes on each other, trying to assess who was more dominant.

  “Did Carlos say that we weren’t at the diner? I told him to stick by that story no matter what. I’m helping out my friend by saying that we were together.” Lewis shook his head. “I would be surprised if Carlos said that we weren’t at the diner. That would surprise me a lot.”

  “No, Carlos is sticking by the story that the two of you were at the El Mejor diner. It’s the diner’s surveillance footage that proves that you weren’t there. There is no use bringing your lies to this table. I’m after the truth. That’s the only thing that’s going to help keep Carlos out of prison. The truth, Lewis.”

  “Surveillance footage? The diner has video cameras now?”

  “Yes. And neither of you were there on September 12.”

  “Look.” Lewis ran his fingers around the top of his mug of coffee. “Maybe we said the wrong diner. Maybe we were at another diner. Yeah, that’s it. We were at another diner down the road. We felt like something different that day. It was another diner.”

  “One without video surveillance, I hope.”

  He nodded.

  “The prosecution will ask you to testify that you were with Carlos that day.”

  “I won’t go to court. Places like that are dangerous for men like me.”

  “They’ll subpoena you to appear before the court. They want you on the stand, no matter what. And even if you change the story of your whereabouts on that day, they’ll find another way to put you on the stand. You’re their target, Lewis. They want you up there to be questioned under oath. They’ll unload a barrage of questions, and you better bring your best game to the stand, because they’ll pounce on even the slightest mistake.”

  “I don’t make mistakes.”

  “They’ll pressure you until you crack. These people are the best in the game, and you’re stepping into their ball court. They’ll play you. My job is to make sure that my client isn’t worse off because of your testimony.”

  “If they put me on the stand, then you can be guaranteed that I’ll say anything that’s in my best interest. Man, I’ll even blame you for the drugs. I’ll say anything. I’d be happy to lie in court.”

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “I don’t care about your rules. I don’t play your game. I make my living out here, in some of the most dangerous parts of the country. I’m not scared of an oath in court.”

  “Then Carlos’ testimony and yours better align perfectly. If not, then you’re sending your cousin directly to prison. If you make a mistake up there, then it’ll be Carlos that pays the price. So where were you really on that day?”

  “We were at a diner.”

  “I want the truth.”

  “You’re not getting the truth. Not today, not ever. You will get whatever I decide to give you. And right now, I say that Carlos and I were in a diner together. You can choose which one. I don’t care. You tell Carlos I said that, and I’m sure that he’ll agree with me.”

  Harvey leaned forward on the table. “Let’s get this straight, Lewis. I’m trying to keep your cousin out of prison. Don’t let him go back there because of your pride. Help me out.”

  Lewis drew a long breath. Nothing meant more to him than family; his mother taught him that.

  “I don’t like you.” He paused and then exhaled. “But Carlos is family. Tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen.”

  “I need you to come into my office and go through your testimony. If your testimony fails to convince the court, then Carlos will go to prison. That’s why I need you.”

  “I’m not going into your office,” Lewis stated with disdain, but then he nodded, feeling defeated that he had no other choice to help his cousin. “But send me a copy of your questions. I’ll send you my answers, and you can tell me what else I need to say.”

  Lewis scribbled an email address on a napkin and tossed it in front of Harvey. He was not used to being defeated. Like a spoiled child, he always got his way.

  “Let’s work together to keep Carlos out of prison.” Harvey threw a few dollars on the table and stood to leave.

  Without taking his eyes off his coffee mug, Lewis made sure he had the last word. “If you sell me out, I’ll make sure that you pay the price. And it’ll be a big price to pay.”

  Chapter 13

  The phone vibrated in Harvey’s pocket as he climbed into his car.

  He expected as much. The purpose of the meeting with Juan Lewis was two-fold. One; to test the waters with a star witness, and two; to smoke out whether he was being followed.

  It worked.

  “Hello, Detective Pitt.”

  “That’s quite formal for an old friend,” Pitt stated. “Are you f
ree for lunch?”

  Harvey grinned to himself, making sure his smile wasn’t big enough for his tail to see. “Yes, Pitt, I am.”

  Twenty minutes later, Harvey was sitting in a café just outside of USC. He sipped at the burnt coffee and ordered a serving of bacon and eggs, both of which he was sure would be burnt as well.

  When Pitt arrived, he ordered the same before taking a seat opposite Harvey in the narrow booth. The vinyl seat stuck to his trousers as he struggled to get comfortable. From Harvey’s lack of a greeting, he could tell that something was wrong.

  Preemptively, Pitt struck first.

  “Why did you need to meet with Lewis?”

  “You tell me. You seem to know my movements quite well.”

  “I’m a cop. A detective,” Pitt growled. “And Juan Lewis is a criminal. That’s why I was tailing him. It’s my job to catch criminals. And as a cop, I need to know why you met with Lewis.”

  “I’m a lawyer,” Harvey retorted. “And it’s my job to know things before the cops do.”

  His joke broke the tension. Pitt exhaled with a small laugh, leaning back in his chair as the waitress brought both their plates of overcooked scrambled eggs and burnt bacon to the table.

  As the waitress walked away, Pitt commented, “Looks like they didn’t burn it as much as last time.”

  Harvey shrugged. He much preferred his eggs overcooked, and his bacon extra crispy. He liked the extra crunch.

  “What did Lewis say?” Pitt wolfed down a fork full of scrambled eggs.

  “Not a lot. I was touching base with a witness in my case.” Harvey moved his bacon to the edge of the plate with his knife. “What did Roberto Miles say?”

  Pitt shoveled in another mouthful of eggs. “Who?”

  “Roberto Miles. It seems the two of you have a good relationship.”

  “Is that what Lewis said? Of course, he did. He would say that. He’s just trying to cover his own butt, that’s all. Misdirection. He’s trying to make you think that Miles is the informer.”

  “Or you are.”

  Pitt put his fork down. “Harvey, you know me. You’ve known me for years. We’re more than just colleagues trying to get justice. We’re friends. You and me. You know I’m on the straight and narrow.”

  Whoever killed Hardgrave had no problem with knocking people off for self-preservation. Harvey needed to step carefully around Pitt or spend the rest of his days looking over his shoulder.

  Taking out a criminal defense attorney would be child’s play compared to killing a sitting judge.

  “Of course.” Harvey smiled, breaking the tension once more. “But it’s always good to test the waters. Test your reaction.”

  “Ha! Still playing hypnotherapist, eh? You can’t get that stuff out of your system. I’m sure that’s why you’re so good at what you do, Harvey.”

  In his previous career, Harvey spent his time convincing people to break this addiction or that obsession. In hindsight, he understood that he was drawn to the profession because of his drug-addicted brother, and found that helping others recover from their addiction felt like he was helping his brother.

  And Pitt was right; sometimes old habits were hard to break.

  Harvey had spent his years as a lawyer not looking for mistakes in reports, but looking for answers in the way a person’s eyes moved, the way a person’s head shook when they answered a question, or the way a person’s body betrayed what they were saying.

  And that had won him a lot of cases.

  “How’s the Hardgrave case?”

  “Not a lot of progress to report, I’m afraid. The killer was clean, left no evidence, and nobody is talking. Nobody saw anything, Harvey. But that’s not uncommon in these parts. People don’t like to talk to us or be seen talking to us. We expected that.”

  “Don’t spin me that media line, Pitt. Save that for the press conferences. You must have something on somebody somewhere.”

  “I’m afraid not. I really wish I wasn’t telling you the truth, Harvey, but we have nothing. We’ve got six detectives working on this, and we have nothing.”

  “You’re still the lead?”

  “Of course. But these guys—they aren’t pulling up the right information. They’re missing something. A piece of the puzzle. But we’ll find a suitable suspect and charge them. If nothing else, just to get the media off our back.”

  After only a few mouthfuls, Harvey pushed his plate slightly away, not comfortable in the present company anymore. He left a few bills on the table before choosing his next words very carefully.

  “Something is wrong with this group of drug dealers,” he said. “Someone is protecting them.”

  Pitt paused and looked straight up at Harvey. “If that’s the case, you have to be careful who you talk to.”

  “I always am, Pitt.”

  But this time, he wasn’t so sure.

  Chapter 14

  “These are dangerous men, Bill.”

  Jack Grayson climbed inside Harvey’s sedan, providing a brief update after days of investigative work. His long limbs filled the front seat, and his knees were squashed against the dash, despite the leather seat being as far back as it could be.

  Bill Harvey spent extra on the latest model Mercedes-Benz S-class sedan for comfort, knowing he conducted a lot of meetings there, and that Jack needed the extra legroom. He was the same. His knees often hurt after long car journeys.

  Parked next to Santa Monica beach, they conducted their meeting in the comfort of the air-conditioning, but with the added benefit of the iconic Californian view. Despite the half-hour drive from his office, there was no use living in L.A. if you weren’t going to take advantage of its many assets.

  “How dangerous?”

  “I followed Roberto Miles yesterday afternoon—tailed him from when he left the house and saw him drive to an old estate. Three men went into a warehouse, and only two came out. That’s how dangerous.”

  “Who was the third?”

  “A low-level drug dealer who wasn’t paying his debts. He won’t be missed.”

  Harvey drew a long breath, looking out to the beach in front of them. Once, he dreamed of coming to L.A. and surfing each morning, working by day, and partying by night.

  Traffic squashed that dream.

  Reaching around to the back seat, he lifted up a box of doughnuts off the leather interior, offering Jack one first.

  “Doughnuts?” Jack laughed. “Are you serious? Have you turned into a stereotypical stakeout cop now?”

  “No.” Harvey laughed with him. “I just had a craving for doughnuts this morning.”

  “I have never known you to eat doughnuts, Harvey. Usually, it’s only carrot sticks and apples in your car, and you use whiskey as your only vice. Numbing your emotions with fatty food is something new.”

  “You know, maybe I should look for another vice. Maybe it’s not all that healthy drowning my emotions in glasses of whiskey.”

  A moment of silence drifted over them…

  And then they both burst out laughing.

  “Go on, give me one then.” Jack laughed heartily. “I bet these are doughnuts baked with a whiskey glaze!”

  “I wish.” Harvey laughed with him.

  They sat chuckling to themselves, each one biting into a plain glazed doughnut. They had never felt more like cops on a stakeout.

  “What else have you got?”

  “He’s connected. Really well-connected.” Jack licked his fingers. “You know, we should eat doughnuts more often. That was delicious.”

  “It’s not whiskey, but it’s not bad.” Harvey did the same. Index finger, middle finger. Right hand. Left hand. “But tell me more about Miles.”

  “He must be very well-connected because he seems to be a step ahead of everyone. After he walked out of the warehouse, the cops arrived only a few minutes later. He knew the cops were coming, and he knew when to bail out of there. Only someone who is very well-connected would know that.”

  “How many cops
came to the warehouse?”

  “I didn’t stick around to find out. I heard the sirens coming and then got out of there myself. It wouldn’t have looked too good if I was caught there.”

  “Understandable. Any idea who he’s connected to?” Harvey asked the question, although he already knew the answer.

  “Word on the street is that some detectives in the department want to make a bit of extra money on the side. Send their kids to a good college. You can’t do that on a straight cop’s wage.”

  “No names?”

  “Not yet.” Jack looked out the window as a girl in a bikini zipped past on rollerblades. “But I’ll tell you something, Harvey. People are scared of these guys. These men take people out who get in their way. A lot of people, even my best informants, were reluctant to talk about Lewis or Miles. I didn’t get a lot of information, but what I do know is that these men have killed before and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.”

  “I’m starting to get that impression.”

  “And if you think you’re going to pin the Carlos drug case on Lewis, then you better be prepared to be attacked. If anyone goes sniffing in their dirt, they usually end up missing. I was careful to cover my tracks, but they know you’re defending Carlos. Word is, Miles is on high alert at the moment. A big drug run is coming up from Mexico shortly, and he’s nervous about all the attention Carlos is getting.”

  “Was Hardgrave’s name mentioned by anybody?”

  “No. All I know is that they’re connected to somebody.”

  “I heard that Hardgrave pointed Lewis in the direction of the cops who could be bought with a few dollars. I think that’s where they got their start.”

  “So Hardgrave was dirty?”