“Sounds like something out of the backwaters of Eastern Europe. How many bunkers do you think are still out there?” Ella closed her eyes while eating her bacon. The look of satisfaction on her face was immeasurable.
“The boys on the job told me that they’ve done ten or so of these basements.”
“If you think about it, it’s really creepy.” Ella shuddered. “Who knows what could be in some of those bunkers? It’s so weird to think that those bunkers were built forty to fifty years ago, and they’re still there, just under people’s houses. People could store anything in there. They could even hide people in those types of basements.”
Harvey placed his fork down.
As the conversation turned to horror movie plots, involving bunkers under suburban houses, Harvey’s thoughts turned back to work. Almost automatically, he ate his plate full of bacon, eggs, and a side of tomato, hardly stopping to appreciate the flavor of the award-winning food.
“Bill?” Ella broke his focus.
“Yes?” He turned to his sister.
“I just asked you how work is, but judging by that far-off look in your eyes, I’m going to guess things are quite intense.”
“I have a very tough case at the moment.” He looked down to his empty plate. “I have two weeks to find someone to testify in a case, locate a box full of old notes, or find some missing CCTV footage.”
“Why the rush? Can’t you just apply for court extension?”
“No.” He placed his fork down. “In two weeks, there will be a news article that will destroy the defendant’s reputation, regardless of the court case outcome.”
“That sounds like a tough case. Who’s the defendant?” Jonathon questioned.
“I am. And I have two weeks to find the information, or I’ll be asking you for a job with the removals company.” Harvey stood and tossed enough money on the table to cover everyone’s breakfast, along with a healthy tip. “But you’ve just given me the information I need.”
Chapter 26
“The only reason I’m here is because there’s money involved.”
“Of course.” Harvey nodded. “I would expect nothing else.”
Under the false pretense that he would be willing to discuss a settlement, Harvey walked into the mediation session grinning from ear to ear. Taylor Reaper had obviously expected that he would be signing off on a settlement today, or he would have sent one of his junior lawyers to the session.
But the defendant didn’t want that—Harvey wanted to get under the skin of his opponent and waste his time until he snapped and fired out a piece of information that he would’ve preferred to keep disclosed.
Mediation specialist Jodie Glass sat at the head of the table, her meek voice barely heard in comparison to the two loud men. “This mediation appearance has been ordered by the court, and I understand that—”
“We know the spiel; we’re both lawyers.” Taylor sat in the small conference room, one long leg crossed over the other, hands resting in his lap, like he was ready for Harvey just to state an amount.
“I apologize for his rudeness.” Harvey looked at the petite middle-aged woman searching through the files in front of her. “His level of arrogance doesn’t represent all lawyers.”
“Go on.” Taylor impatience was clear. “How much?”
“I’m not going to settle.” Harvey couldn’t contain his smirk as he leaned back in his chair.
“What?” Taylor jumped forward, uncrossing his legs, hitting his index finger on the table. “You said on the phone that you would be willing to discuss a settlement! This is a mediation attempt, not some time to play a game! I came here in good faith!”
“C’mon, Taylor. You can’t be serious?” Harvey laughed. “You didn’t honestly think that I was going to discuss a settlement with you? If I didn’t say that, you wouldn’t be here. You would’ve sent one of your juniors to this session, and I didn’t want that. I wanted to see you squirm.”
With a huff, Taylor shook his head. He leaned back in his chair, angry that he fell into the trap. For years, he had tried to get a win against his adversary, and every time he failed he felt worse about himself. It was only a small win for Harvey, but one that desperately got under the skin of his opponent.
“This must be strange for you.” Harvey studied the man across from him. “You’ve made a career out of defending white-collar criminals, people who trade in numbers and papers. You haven’t touched organized crime or anything remotely dangerous. This is a very strange deviation from your current business model.”
“I was sold the second they mentioned your name. I couldn’t imagine anything more enjoyable than watching you go down.” Taylor’s jaw clenched. “What do you want then? Why call me here?”
“I wanted to let you know that we’re going to be presenting a witness that will testify that this is all a setup.” Harvey lied. “And I wanted to see your reaction in person.”
“Not a chance. Nobody would be brave enough to testify against Kevin Wu. That person must have a death sentence.”
“Not if that person is Monty Lee.”
“Monty Lee?” Taylor’s eyes shot up in surprise, jumping forward with one arm on the table. “So you’ve found him?”
“Clearly, you know how much he knows. You understand how important his testimony will be to this case.”
“He’s a very vital part of my client’s long history.” He drew a deep breath, disappointed that he gave Harvey the reaction that he was after. Calmly, he crossed his legs again. “But he would know nothing about this case. Nothing. The two men never had a decent conversation after Monty’s youngest daughter died.”
“He knows a lot more than you think.” Harvey brought his hands together, staring at his opponent. “And I would suggest that you be careful with this case. If it goes to court, we’ll be wheeling out Monty Lee, and your reputation is going to take a hit. You don’t want to be seen as someone that can’t defend street criminals. Yes, you’re good at white-collar crime, probably the best in the city, but your reputation will take a hit if you don’t win this.”
“Are you suggesting that you care about my reputation?”
“Not at all. I would take great pleasure in being part of your downfall.”
“But you also don’t want this case to go to court.”
“Of course.” Harvey studied Taylor for a moment, his eyes thinning as he glared at him. “Why get involved with him, Taylor? This isn’t your area of expertise. I know you want me, I know that you want to take me down, but this isn’t the way to do it. You’re deliberately trying to dirty my name, not beat me in court. That isn’t a fair fight.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I want justice. That’s what I want. I want to see you go down for the crimes that you’ve committed as a hypnotherapist. People should be able to walk into a hypnotherapist’s office with the confidence that they will be reasonably looked after. You didn’t do that. You took advantage of my client’s distressed mental state, and you made money from it.”
“That’s ludicrous.”
“Really?” He smiled. “You made money after Kevin legitimately lost a business deal. In fact, you made over $250,000 as the shareholder of a company that beat Wu Construction.”
“Ridiculous!” Harvey threw his hands up in the air. “You’ve got to be kidding? Really? That’s the angle you’re pushing now?!”
“It’s not an angle; it’s the law.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Here. Johnson and Smith. A construction company.” Taylor slid a piece of paper across the desk. “You owned shares in this company, and it beat Kevin’s legitimate business, Wu Construction, only three months after the hypnotherapy sessions. That decision sent Wu Construction onto the path of bankruptcy.”
Harvey looked at the papers, chest heaving up and down. “No. This is a coincidence. Nothing more.”
“Perhaps, but in the current context, it appears quite damning.”
“Thi
s is ridiculous. This is not the angle to be pushing.”
“The angle I’m pushing is justice.”
“You’re not interested in justice.” Harvey snarled. “You only believe in justice until your client is proven broke.”
“Clever, but I’m not here for jokes. If I wanted to hear bad jokes, I would spend the night at an open mic night at The Comedy Store.”
“Excuse me, I—” Jodie Glass attempted to interrupt, ready to read through her list of procedures.
“I respect you, Taylor. I don’t like you, but I respect what you’ve done with your business. So, I’m going to give you a piece of advice for free, something I wish I knew when I was your age.” Harvey leaned forward, elbows resting on the large table.
“What is it?”
“Sharks only attack you if you’re wet.”
Taylor’s eyes squinted. “So now you’re a comedian and a philosopher?”
“If you swim with the sharks, they’ll attack you. If you stay on dry land, playing with the white-collar guys, building sand-castles, then no shark is going to be able to bite you.” Harvey drew a long breath. “But if you swim in their waters, if you play in their playground, then the sharks will attack you. And Kevin Wu is one great, big, hungry predator. If you don’t win this case, then he’ll come after you. If he doesn’t win this, he’s going to be angry, and you really won’t like him when he’s angry.”
Taylor’s face went a shade paler.
He had built his business by dealing with white-collar criminals, people who fudge figures, nobody with any pull on the streets.
His top-flight schoolboy life was suddenly threatened by the client he took on.
“Taking on Kevin’s case is the first time that you’ve dealt with a real killer—someone who would be brave enough to attack you personally. You might have money, fast cars, and good looks, and you might feel unstoppable in your world, but those things hardly matter to a man like Kevin Wu. He’ll have you killed within the hour of a judgment against him.”
“He couldn’t,” Taylor whispered with his mouth hanging open.
“He doesn’t play nicely, and your rules don’t matter to him. Do you think he cares about you? Do you think he won’t touch you? No. Kevin Wu will destroy you the second you lose this case.”
“I can see that we’re not going to settle today,” Taylor replied softly. He stood, buttoning up his three-piece suit, shaken by the notion that he had endangered his own life. “Thank you for your time, Miss Glass.”
With a quiet step, Taylor walked out of the office, and Harvey almost felt sorry for his privileged opponent.
Almost.
Chapter 27
The wind whistled through the large door as Terrance Marshall stepped away from the bright sunshine and into the dark, subdued mood in the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels.
He avoided the main door of the post-modern church; instead opting for a back entrance that had led him to the calm Reconciliation Chapel. Whether it was the cold in contrast to the outside warmth, or the presence of something more, a shiver ran up his spine as he stepped inside the chapel.
As he walked in, confused and disorientated, he noticed a priest waiting patiently on a chair, resting in quiet calm with his eyes open.
“Hello, my son,” the man said in a distinctive Irish accent. “Please, come in.”
It was not often that Terrance Marshall was welcomed inside; usually, if he was standing at the doors, people panicked. Most people bolted the door and armed themselves if they spotted him walking towards their house.
Uncomfortably, Terrance stepped further inside. The slick, modern feel to the building was not something that he was expecting. The only thing that he recognized as church-like were the two old paintings of Mary, the mother of Jesus, that hung on the styled concrete walls.
“Hello,” he said, bowing his head in respect. “I don’t know if I’m in the right place. I’m not sure if this is even my religion.” He rubbed the top of his bald head. “I’m not even sure if I have a religion.”
“Not to worry. Please sit down. Tell me what’s troubling you.”
Terrance sat his large frame on a small wooden chair, scared that it might crumble under his weight. Leaning forward on his knees, looking at the ground to avoid the gaze of the bearded man in his seventies, Terrance went to open his mouth, but nothing came out.
In no rush, the priest waited.
“I…” Terrance sighed and looked at the ground. “I’ve come to confess my sins.”
The priest continued to wait, acknowledging what was clearly a large amount of effort for the man to be there. “Would you prefer to go somewhere quieter?”
“I think so.” Terrance nodded, eyes still focused on the floor, and followed the priest along the hall and into a private room.
“Do I kneel?” Terrance asked as he saw the kneeling pad in front of a large wooden screen. In contrast to the grand main chapel, this room was small and calm, a place of sanctuary.
“Only if you want to.”
The priest ambled around to the other side of the screen, almost floating under his gown, providing Terrance the peace and solitude that he desired. With slow movements, Terrance leaned his body forward, first coming to his right knee, and then moving his left knee onto the pad with the assistance of his hands. His knees wouldn’t thank him for the motion, but then, his body hadn’t thanked him for much in the past.
He had attempted to go to reconciliation once before, a different church, a different denomination, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth. He couldn’t admit what he had done. He couldn’t bring himself to relive the horrors he had caused.
That day, he walked out of the church, consigned that he would live out his days as a criminal, and live an afterlife of eternal damnation.
But then the sickness began, and he had time to question his own mortality over and over again. With all that time alone, he questioned more than he had ever questioned before. Life, or death, caused him to think deeply, and he didn’t like the answers he gave himself.
“I have sinned more than most, Father. I have sinned more than I can remember.” He drew a long breath, filling his lungs with the cool air.
“Go on.”
“I have killed,” he began. “At war. I killed people in Vietnam. Lots of people. I didn’t want to, but they were my orders.” He held back the tears. “I have also killed on the streets. I’ve stolen, I’ve committed acts of violence, I’ve dealt drugs, I’ve beaten people for looking at me sideways.” Terrance’s eyes began to blink back tears as he tried to be honest with himself. “I didn’t want this life. I didn’t want any of it. But it was the only way I knew. How else could I survive? I didn’t finish school, I had no skills, I had no family. The only thing I had was violence. That’s all I had. It’s all I knew.”
“We all make our own choices.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t choose this life. It was thrown onto me. I had nobody to help me, and this was the only way I knew how to survive. It was the only way I could survive. None of my school friends got jobs, none of them had a career, they were all dead before they reached thirty. I was lucky… because I did what I had to do.”
“Perhaps, but you still had a choice. You must take responsibility for your choices. The choices you have made in life are the result of your free will. They are your decisions.”
“I do take responsibility for them.”
“And do you ask for forgiveness?” The voice behind the screen was calm. “Are you truly sorry for what you have done?”
“Yes…” Terrance’s lip quivered. “Yes, Father.”
“My son, I forgive you. The Lord forgives you. The Lord asks that you repent of your sins, but most importantly, you must ask for forgiveness first. You have taken the right step to forgiveness, both from the Lord and from yourself.”
With his head coming to rest on the back of his hands, Terrance wept.
Soon, it turned into a deep, soulful cry full of years o
f repression. He let it all out, slobbering on his hands, not even trying to sniff back the drooling tears.
“I want to be good. I want to live a life of peace.” He slobbered. “I didn’t want any of this.”
The priest came from behind the screen and rested his hand on the shoulder of the crying man. “Now is your chance. You still have time to change things, but you must work hard to correct the wrongs of your past. That’s what is important now, not what you have done, but what you will do. Confess your sins to the authorities, and to the people that you have hurt. Now is the time for change.”
“How can I change?” Terrance continued to mumble, his forehead against his wrist. “How can I change what I am? How can I change what I’ve become?”
The priest tried to reassure him. “Love is the way that you turn this around. Love, my son.”
“But I’m dying, Father. I’m almost dead. I don’t have long left in this world.”
“If you are truly sorry, then the Lord forgives you.” The caring hand on Terrance’s shoulder radiated warmth. “But you must go in peace, my son, and live your remaining days trying to correct the wrongs of your past. You must take action to repent your sins.”
Terrance calmed himself, wiping his eyes with the tissue that the priest handed him.
“You’re right, Father. I must correct the wrongs of my past.” In this quiet moment, in this quiet place, the worlds of pain he had caused flash before his eyes. In that instant, in that second, he grasped what he must do.
He must right the wrongs of his past.
“Father. I’m sorry, but I have to sin once more. I still have one more problem to solve.” Terrance stood tall, refocused, sucking in one big gulp of air, his chest expanding and his shoulders drawing back. “And it’s going to be one big, final sin.”
Chapter 28
“You were right.” Jack Grayson burst through the front door of the lawyer’s office.
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