Back to Brooklyn

by Lawrence Kelter

  “You’re one hell of a deep sleeper, Theresa. Do you use any sleep aids?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “Never?”

  “Never.”

  “Not even Sominex or one of them other over-the-counter sleep aids?”

  “No.”

  “Were you drinking before you went to bed?”

  “Just wine.”

  “How much wine?”

  “A couple of glasses. We opened a bottled and drank it together.”

  “And he gave no indication whatsoever that he was about to end his life?”

  She shook her head.

  “I see. So, the next thing you knew, the police were knocking on your door. Was that when you met Detective Parikh?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he explained what happened?”

  “Yes.”

  “That must’ve been one hell of a shock.”

  She clutched her chest and took several deep breaths finding it difficult to calm down.

  “What’s the matter, dear?”

  “My heart is racing.”

  “All right, just try to settle down. I know it’s not easy, but…” He patted her hand, smiling sympathetically, but not knowing how to comfort her. “There, there, Theresa, everything is gonna be all right.”

  “Are you sure, Mr. Gambini?” she asked, sniffling, desperate for assurance.

  “No doubt,” he postured. “We got this.”

  Chapter Sixteen: Good Karma Ain’t Bad

  Lisa stood in front of the stove with a vacant expression as she stirred a pot of sauce. She looked up when Vinny came through the door at the end of the day.

  He had a big grin on his face as he bounded toward her and planted a huge smooch on her cheek.

  “Someone had a good day,” she said. “You get nominated to the Supreme Court or something?”

  “Very funny, Lisa. But actually I had a great day.”

  “Yeah? You get hired by that woman the Indian police detective phoned you about?”

  He took the wooden spoon out of her hand and tasted the sauce. “Needs more sugar.”

  “More sugar?”

  “Yeah. More sugar.”

  “Okay.” She took a pinch out of the sugar bowl and cast it into the pot.

  “Lisa, that ain’t enough.”

  “Vinny, it’s marinara sauce. It’s supposed to have a little bite to it. Anyway, it’s got plenty of sugar in it already.”

  “You know I like it sweet.”

  “Oh, you like it sweet?” She picked up the sugar bowl and dumped all of it into the sauce. “There. That sweet enough for you?”

  “What’s the matter with you? Give me that,” he insisted, once again grabbing the wooden spoon and quickly removing as much of it as he could before it dissolved into the sauce. He blended in the remaining sugar and tasted it before kissing his fingertips. “There. Now it’s perfect.”

  “Yeah, now it’s perfect,” she mimed.

  “Lisa, what’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me? You should know.”

  “What do you mean I should know? I ain’t got a clue as to what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh no?”

  “No.”

  “Well then I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Ten long years I’m eating sauce sweet enough to gag a maggot. That’s what’s wrong. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I don’t like it so sweet?”

  “No. You never said nothin’ before.”

  “That’s because you should know. And I shouldn’t have to say nothing. That’s your problem, Vinny. You’re friggin’ oblivious sometimes. It’s like you leave cracker crumbs on the table when you’re done or you start eating your meal before I have a chance to sit down.”

  “Lisa, you getting your friend for real this time?”

  “No, I ain’t getting my friend. I threw you a lavish party the other night. I spent an entire day fixing the engine you effed up, and now I’m cooking you a nice dinner with…” She stomped her foot twice in time with each word, “Sweet sauce. The least you could do is bring me a nice bouquet of flowers. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Lisa, you want flowers? I’ll get you some.”

  “No,” she said with disappointment. “I don’t want them no more.”

  “Lisa, would you please make up your mind? Do you want flowers or don’t you?”

  “No.” She turned her head, craning her neck as far as it would go, making it obvious that she didn’t want to look at him.

  “Lisa, look at me.”

  Even in the midst of hostility, she sounded cute to him. “No.”

  “Please.”

  “No.”

  “Lisa, I’m not a friggin’ mind reader. How am I supposed to know what you want unless you tell me?”

  “You should know!”

  “I should know what?”

  “We’re together ten freakin’ years, Vinny. You should just know.”

  “I should just know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Starting tomorrow I’ll know. Now would you please look at me?”

  “No.”

  “But why?”

  “Because you won’t know nothin’ tomorrow either.”

  He blew out an exasperated sigh. “Lisa, I came home chocked full of good news that I couldn’t wait to share with you, Mona Lisa Vito, the love of my life. Don’t that count for nothin’?”

  “I suppose,” she answered, clearly warming. She turned her head slightly in his direction.

  “Tell you what—why don’t you watch some TV. I’ll finish getting dinner ready and I’ll call you when it’s on the table.”

  “Oh yeah?” she asked with surprise.

  “Yeah. Go watch Jeopardy or something. I got this.”

  Lisa had a subtle smile on her face as she untied her apron and walked from the kitchen.

  ***

  There were no flowers, nor cards, nor chocolates, but Vinny had set the table with a tablecloth, opened a bottle of red wine, and poured a glass for each of them. He waited for Lisa to sit down and pushed in her chair for her.

  “This is nice,” she said.

  He sprinkled her pasta with Romano cheese. “Bon appétit.”

  She twisted the spaghetti onto her fork and very reluctantly tasted it. Her expression brightened. “What did you do, Vinny? It’s not disgusting.”

  He beamed proudly. “I added another can of crushed tomatoes to the sauce to cut the sweetness.”

  She smiled as she wound more spaghetti around her fork. In truth, the sauce was far from delicious but it was the effort he made that mattered. “Thank you so much for this wonderful meal. So, how was your day?”

  “It was fuckin’ great. I met with that woman at the police station and she hired me on the spot.” He reached into his pocket and spread three one-hundred-dollar bills across the table. “Paid in cash for the hour we spent together.”

  She appeared to be overwhelmed. “You must’ve really impressed her. What did she do?”

  “Nothin’.”

  “Nothin’? So why did she hire you?”

  “She needed someone to commiserate with on account her boyfriend jumped to his death and got run over by a car.”

  “Wait. He jumped to his death and got hit by a car?”

  “That’s right. The police brought her in to talk. She was kind of worked up and needed someone to talk things through with.”

  “You must be one hell of a talker. But there’s no case against her so it was just a one-shot deal, right?”

  “Probably. I don’t know. But I met this guy while I was waiting there and I think I’ve got a solid slip-and-fall case to work on.”

  “You see, Vinny, it’s all about karma. You do good for someone and it comes back to you in spades. Like you helped Billy and Stan and now you’re getting a return on your generosity. The Caddy’s fixed too. I did a complete rebuild of the valve train assembly on both sides and Dad picked up a replacement valve cover for chump cha
nge. She’s purring like a kitten again.”

  Vinny kissed both of her hands. “Thank you very, very much.”

  “Any news on that appointed attorney thing?”

  “Molloy’s friend said I could start tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” She sounded surprised. “That’s terrific. You’ll be a partner at a big prestigious law firm in no time.”

  “Whoa. Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch.”

  “Well, you got to admit it’s all positive news.”

  “Uh-huh.” He picked at his food. “I have to confess, I’m a little worried about this appointed attorney thing. Being that Judge Molloy went out on a limb for me the way he did…” He shrugged. “I don’t want to screw it up.”

  “Vinny, ain’t you got no confidence after winning that big case?”

  “I don’t know,” he sulked. “Maybe that was just a fluke. What if I can’t cut it in a New York courtroom—I mean with the fast pace and all the high-powered attorneys I’ll have to go up against.”

  She reached across the table and rested her hand on his arm. “You worried about it because you’re dyslexic?”

  “Yeah.” His shoulders slumped. “You know I can’t read too fast and these New York judges…they can be impatient.”

  “You know what I think?”

  He shook his head.

  “I think you should drink some more of this wine. We’ll get into bed early. You get a good night’s sleep and go into that court tomorrow ready to kick some ass.”

  “Oh yeah? You think so?”

  “I know so. Now pass me a chicken cutlet already. I’m friggin’ starving.”

  Chapter Seventeen: Jitters

  Lisa offered to accompany Vinny to court the next morning and he was quick to accept her support. He’d struggled with dyslexia his entire life—it slowed him down and his inability to keep pace with others often wreaked havoc on his confidence, rendering him helpless as a strategic thinker.

  He wrung his hands as they stood outside the courthouse, the Brooklyn Central Court Building, its commanding influence projecting outward, proclaiming that here is where the law is laid down. It was an intimidating edifice to be sure, one that might easily overwhelm a fledgling lawyer with a confidence issue.

  A few lawyers hurrying to court made quick stops at the coffee cart before entering the building. “You know that looks like a good idea. I think I’m gonna get a cup of coffee.”

  “Vinny, stop wasting time. We been standing out here a full ten minutes and I’m freezing my butt off. Caffeine ain’t gonna make you any less nervous.”

  “I’m cold, Lisa. My teeth are chattering.”

  “It’s a hell of a lot warmer inside. Besides, you’re just anxious. You’ll get over it once you’re in action.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Of course I do. Now come on. You can do this. You think there’s anyone inside this building that’s tougher than Judge Haller? I don’t think so. Besides, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

  He patted her arm. Exactly who he was reassuring was unclear. “Okay. Okay. Let’s go.”

  They walked arm in arm once they passed through security. Lisa was overwhelmed by the grandeur of the renaissance revival/beaux arts classical structure and snapped pictures as they explored the interior. “Where are we supposed to go?” she asked.

  “Mike told me to wait in the attorney’s room.”

  “Who’s Mike?”

  “Mike Saperstein. Judge Molloy’s friend. He said he’d come and find me if he had a case for me.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I read the defendant’s file and meet him in the courtroom for the arraignment.”

  “That seems pretty quick. How much time do they give you to read the file?”

  “Not much. But actually…I’m not sure.”

  She looked around. “This is a big place. You see a directory?”

  He glanced around. “Actually…no.”

  “Maybe we should ask someone where this attorney’s room might be found.”

  “Forget about that. You want me to look like I’m wet behind the ears? We’ll find it on our own.”

  “Yeah. Of course we will,” she said sarcastically. “Get that chip off your shoulder.” She flagged down the first man in a suit that passed by. He was tall and athletically built—prematurely balding. “Excuse me…sir. Could you please direct us to the attorney’s room.”

  He stopped and smiled at the pretty brunette. “Why, are you an attorney?”

  “No, I’m fuckin’ Judge Judy,” she sniped. “What’s the difference?”

  Vinny scowled at him for good measure.

  He flashed his palms defensively. “Take it easy now. I just asked.” He pointed in the general direction of the attorneys’ room and headed off with a scowl on his face.

  “What a creep!” Lisa said.

  “Yeah. Friggin’ creep,” Vinny said. “What’s his problem?”

  The attorney’s room was hot and stuffy, crammed with lawyers talking to their clients on cell phones. Two hours passed. Lisa looked so bored she could scream. She was tugging on the collar of her sweater and squirming in her seat when she suddenly smacked him on the arm.

  “Ouch! That hurt.”

  “Sorry.”

  He rubbed his arm. “What was that for?”

  “I don’t know…I guess you were handy.”

  “That’s it? I was handy?”

  “Yeah. You were handy. What can I tell you, Vinny? I can’t stand it no more—I’m literally jumping out of my skin. How long do they expect you to sit around here?”

  “Lisa, that’s what lawyers do, except that after they get enough cases they don’t have to do this no more.”

  “Yeah? Well if something doesn’t give soon I’m gonna assault somebody and then you can defend me.”

  Vinny grinned at her dysfunctional remedy just as someone called his name.

  “Mr. Gambini?”

  He looked up and saw Mike Saperstein making his way toward him. “Mr. Saperstein.” He offered his hand but settled for a quick pat on the shoulder. “I been waiting here like you said.”

  Saperstein dropped a pile of folders on an empty chair and began flipping through them. “They just brought over a big group of defendants from Central Booking and they want to process all of them before lunch.” He selected a file. “Here’s the complaint, arrest record, and the CJA report. Give this a quick read on your way downstairs. Judge Finch runs the arraignment courtroom like a well-oiled machine. You’ll have three, four minutes at most once the case is called. I’ll use this case as a barometer of your skills. If it goes well…It’s a Class-B misdemeanor. Introduce yourself to the client, waive the public reading, enter a plea, and if applicable, negotiate a low bail amount in thirty seconds or less. You good with that?”

  Vinny agreed mechanically.

  “Good luck.” Saperstein turned and hollered, “Kalish? Where are you, Ben?”

  Lisa rushed to his side. “You got a case. That’s great.”

  “Yeah. It’s great. I got to read this on my way downstairs, meet my client, and enter a plea all in the time it usually takes me to tie my shoes.”

  She was quick to point out, “You wear western boots.”

  “Yeah…that’s exactly my point.”

  Chapter Eighteen: Semantics

  Vinny approached the holding area, observed the other attorneys as they called out their client’s names, and did likewise. “Aidan Boydetto?”

  Boydetto was short and narrow across the shoulders with dark curly hair and a good bit of dark stubble, thirtyish. He rose slowly and approached, nodding as he said, “That’s me.”

  With Lisa’s help, Vinny had just enough time to read his assigned client’s complaint and arrest record before arriving in the courtroom. His memory was sharp and he recalled the short list of details he’d just learned.

  It took Vinny a moment to fight through his nervousness. He found Lisa, who was
watching him from a seat in the back of the courtroom, smiled gratefully, and dove in. “Hello, Mr. Boydetto, I’m Vincent Gambini, your assigned counsel. I’m here to represent you at arraignment.” He glanced over his shoulder to observe Judge Temperance Finch and her handling of defendants, moving them in and out of court with the precision of an assembly line robot. “As you can see, Judge Finch ain’t wasting no time up there. In fact, she might call your case at any second.”

  His mind was flooded with a memory. He was back in the Beechum County courtroom and Judge Haller was berating him for being unfamiliar with courtroom procedure, a lesson he learned at great expense.

  “Now I see from your file that this is your first offense, so let me tell you how this works. They’re gonna call your docket number and the clerk is going to very briefly read the charges against you. Then the judge is gonna ask me how you plead. I’m guessing you want to plead ‘not guilty.’”

  “Don’t you want to know if I’m guilty or not?” Boydetto asked.

  Vinny glanced at the judge again. She seemed to have found another gear and was dispatching cases at breakneck speed. “Actually…no. Like I said, we might get called at any second, so this is all we have time for.”

  “But I didn’t do it.”

  Vinny rolled his eyes. “Of course not. But you see, the judge don’t care about that right now. All she’s gonna want to know is how you plead, determine if bail is to be set, and if so, how much? You got that?”

  Boydetto nodded. “But I’m not guilty.”

  Vinny’s eyes grew large. “Didn’t you hear me? All she wants to hear is ‘guilty’ or ‘not guilty.’ We’ve got—” He was cut short when his client’s docket and case number were called. “See what I mean? That’s us.”

  The court officer approached and took Boydetto by the arm.

  “Now remember what I said,” Vinny reminded him. “I’ll say ‘not guilty’ and you keep your mouth shut.”