by Bill Sage
“Hey, fuck you, Roth. I don't have time for your crap. Let’s get on with it.”
Judge Roth wanted to get on with it too. So he sat in the chair behind his desk and shoved the open briefcase closer to Hamilton, who was standing in front of the desk.
“It’s all there,” Roth said. Then after pausing a few seconds, “I need to see your end of the deal…the contract.”
Hamilton sat down, but ignored Roth. He crouched over the briefcase, thumbing through the bills.
Judge Roth reminded himself he needed to be patient.
Hamilton was in a world of his own, thumbing through the bundles of cash. Then after a few seconds, he looked up at Roth. “This sure looks good.”
Roth glared at him.
“Maybe I should up the ante,” Hamilton said, grinning. “You ought to pay a lot more for what Linda’s getting out of this.”
Then he laughed.
After a few seconds, he threw the bundle back into the briefcase, leaving it open, resting his hand on the handle.
But still no contract.
Roth didn’t like the delay game Hamilton was playing. He figured Hamilton was trying to show he was in control and Roth had nothing to say about it.
With his patience running out, Roth stepped up his game. Not uttering a word, he abruptly slammed the briefcase shut, barely missing Hamilton’s fingers. “Let's get on with it,” he said, pulling it closer to him.
“You dumb ass! You nearly hit my fingers.”
“No one cares about your greedy fingers,” Roth said, glowering at him. “Where's the contract, so we can get this shit over with? You’re acting like you can’t figure out what to do next.”
“Hey, I don’t like your damn attitude,” Hamilton said, gritting his teeth. “You’re acting like an asshole. I just may turn around and get the fuck out of here.”
Roth didn’t respond. He knew Hamilton didn’t want to walk away from his kickback. He snapped the locks on the briefcase shut. “You want this deal to go through or what? I don’t give a shit one way or another. Play your little game.”
“You can’t out-negotiate me,” Hamilton said, laughing. “This is what I do for a living.” He shook his head and uttered, “You’re such a fool.”
Judge Roth stood up. “Alright, I’ve had enough of this.” He grabbed the briefcase and put it on the floor next to his chair. “You know the way out?”
Hamilton studied Roth’s face then took a long breath. “The sooner I can get out of this dump, the better.” He grimaced and held up the pouch he’d carried in with him. “It's in here.” He unzipped it, withdrew the contract and tossed it at Roth. “Look it over but don’t take all night.”
Roth sat down and examined the contract. It was properly signed and sealed. He picked up the briefcase and put it back on the desk. Opened it and then slid it over to Hamilton.
As Roth took a second look at the contract, Hamilton removed all the cash and stuffed it into the pouch.
Then Hamilton stood up, preparing to leave. As he held the pouch down at his side, he grinned at Roth, leaning his left hand on the desk. “I hear you really fucked up the Mangano case. You let that Wop get out on bail.”
Now that Roth had the contract, there was no reason to play along with Hamilton’s shit anymore. Roth slipped the it into the top drawer and grinned at him.
Then Roth shifted his gaze to the open door, and in a slightly raised voice said, “Okay, that’s it, Bobby. You got the money, I have the contract.”
A second later, Jake and Hack came inside, stopped, and stood near the open doorway. Jake was in a dark blue windbreaker with the collar turned up, Hack in a gray workout suit, jacket zipped to his neck.
Hamilton heard them come in. He turned to look at the doorway and seeing Jake and Hack, he quickly swung back around to Roth. “What's this?” he demanded. "What the hell’s going on here?"
No one spoke. Hack had his eyes locked on Roth.
After a second, Roth stood up and extended his arm toward the open doorway. “Congressman, I'd like you to meet Hack Rosenberg and Jake Gertner. Two nice Jewish boys,” he said with a wide smile on his face.
Hamilton swung around to look at the doorway again. As he did Jake took his hands out of the jacket pockets and twisted his right fist into the palm of his left hand, staring at Hamilton.
Hamilton turned back to look at Roth. “What’s this? Is it about the money?” He stared at Roth with pleading eyes. “We can talk, you know I can be reasonable… What do you—”
“Maybe we need to have a talk,” Jake said, looking at Roth.
“Sit him down,” Roth said.
Hearing that, Hack pulled a .38 revolver out of his pocket and shoved it into Hamilton’s face. “Sit down, prickhead. We got business with you.”
Hamilton sat back down, staring at Roth. “Al, please. Please, let’s talk. I…I don’t need the money…”
With his eyes showing his utter contempt for Hamilton, Al said, “Hack,” in almost a whisper.
Hack took a breath and put the .38 back into his pocket. Then he squeezed in front of Hamilton’s chair, facing toward the doorway and Jake.
Hamilton jerked his head to the left then to the right, trying to look around Hack at Roth. When he couldn’t do it, he muttered, “Al, wait, we need to…”
But it was too late. As Hack pressed Hamilton’s arms into his sides, Jake threw a twisted garrotte around Hamilton’s neck.
Now Jake’s brawn carried out the will of Al Roth. His powerful arms strained as he mustered all his strength to avenge the wrong done to his faithful friend.
Jake was proud he was the guy settling the score for Al and Linda.
In a short time it was over and Hamilton’s limp body slumped to the floor. As Jake held the garrotte dangling down at his side, he peered at Al. Noticing his glance, Al eyed him back and for a moment they shared a feeling of mutual reverence for their strong friendship.
“Thanks, Jake,” Al said softly.
Hack pushed Hamilton’s chair away from the desk and sat in it. Then he eyed Al in a way that looked like he was trying to read what he was thinking.
Al saw his stare but sat impassively.
Jake bent down over Hamilton and looked at the ligature mark across his Adam’s apple. Then he ran his hand over his eyes, shutting them. “Never liked seeing their fuckin’ eyes.”
“So now what?” Al said.
“We get rid of it,” Hack said.
Al nodded. “Okay.”
“Sit and enjoy,” Jake said. “We’ll take care of everything. Be like it never happened.”
54
THE CALIFORNIA HIGHWAY PATROL found Congressman Hamilton's dark blue Mercedes abandoned on the side of the 405 freeway. The right front tire was flat and his trunk was wide open.
Orange County Sheriff’s Department detectives suspected foul play and called in the FBI. They hoped he’d show up alive somewhere or that his family would receive a ransom request.
Next morning, Roth went to his chambers. Checked the floor for any blood or other evidence. Finding none, he sat down and read two new court memos and scanned the front page of the Daily Journal, the legal newspaper. After a few minutes, he read through the Orange County section of the Los Angeles Times.
Dropping the Times in his out basket, he went into judge’s lounge to have a coffee and get the reaction of other judges.
When Roth entered, Judge Jeffrey Mahler was sitting at the large table in the middle of the room, reading the Los Angeles Times.
Roth said hello and poured a cup of coffee and sat in one of the chairs. As he was taking a sip, Mahler folded the newspaper and scooted back his chair. “Did you see the Times story? About Hamilton?”
“Yeah, it looks like they’re assuming it could have something to do with his real estate deals or that he may have double-crossed some heavy hitters on the bribes he took.”
“I know, and they’re just starting. Their reporters are going to do more digging around.”
> “I always heard rumors about him, but wasn’t sure they were true. After reading the story, I guess there’s some substance to it. He and Ryan.”
That night, Al went to Linda’s to give her the signed contract and return her briefcase full of cash. When she opened the door, he was happy to see she was wearing his favorite jeans and sweater.
As she led him into the kitchen Al said, “I gotta say, you look hot.”
“Next time, you lead the way.”
“Then neither one of us would have any fun.”
When they got to her kitchen table, he said, “I guess you read about Hamilton?”
“Yeah, saw the Times story. They found his car on the 405 and he’s missing.”
“He was supposed to call and tell me when he wanted to meet. I never heard from him. Now I know why. Have you heard anything from Ward or anybody at the S&L?”
“Not a word.”
“I called the office and arranged for Carlos to go over there and pick up a copy of the contract. It’s in the briefcase.” Al put the briefcase on the table and unsnapped the lid.
Linda looked inside, picked up the contract and glanced at it for a few seconds. “I can’t believe it’s all over.”
Al nodded.
“What an ending,” Linda said.
“I’ll say.”
“He just disappears?” Linda said, shaking her head.
“It all seems so bizarre.” Al paused a few seconds then said, “I know this will sound a little over the top, but you have to wonder why something strange always happens when Jake’s in town.”
Linda frowned and then broke out into a smile. “Oh, Al, stop picking on him. He’s your friend.”
“I love the guy. You know that.”
Linda chopped three slices of cooked bacon and threw them into a salad bowl. She was making a Cobb salad for a light dinner. She offered to make one for Al, but he said he couldn’t stay. Had to stop by Franco’s to talk about the hunting trip he and Franco were planning to take with Lopez and Bradford.
“Not Jake?” Linda asked.
“He doesn’t like hunting. Go figure.”
Linda looked at him but didn’t say anything.
After she finished putting her salad together, she placed it on the counter. Then she wiped her hands on a dishtowel, stepped over to Al and stood inches from his face.
“Jake’s still in town. When am I going to meet him?”
“He’s going to be at the bar mitzvah. Hack called me yesterday. He said at first Jake wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it, but then he called and said he’d be there.”
“Oh, that’ll be perfect. So it’s all set.”
“Two weeks from this Saturday. Get ready.”
“I’ve been ready for a long time.”
“Jake, Hack, and Ben will be there, and you’ve never met Hack’s wife, Ruth. You’re going to meet the best of the 12th Street Gang.”
“Well, I guess I’d better watch my purse,” Linda said, frowning.
“That’s good, really good,” Al said.
“After all these years of hanging around you, it’s finally rubbing off.”
“Whatever happened to you? You used to be so sweet.”
Linda kissed Al on the lips. Then she handed him an iced tea and they sat at the kitchen table. “So, now what am I supposed to do with the money he was going to get?”
“Keep it. No one knows he was taking a bribe and you have the contract. So that’s the end of it.”
“Yeah, but what happens when he shows up and wants his cut?”
“Just give it to him, that was the deal.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Sure. It’ll be the same as before.”
“I’ll be glad when all this intrigue is over.”
They sat in silence for a few moments.
Then Al said, “You know, I been thinking. If he never shows up, you get to keep it all.” Then he stared at her, arching one eyebrow. “That ain’t too bad, huh?”
Linda smiled. “It’s even better than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. He called and talked to my secretary, telling her he increased the contract amount. I called him back and he said he wanted to make it up to me, for what happened. So he said he added another $10,000 to the contract amount to help me pay his cut. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Al said in a sarcastic voice.
“I don’t know.” She dipped her head and shrugged. “I think he felt sort of bad about what happened.”
“Fuck him.”
“I thought you’d say something like that.”
“The guy’s an asshole. Doesn’t deserve to be in the same room as you.”
She went to the refrigerator and removed a bottle of blue cheese salad dressing, took her salad from the counter and returned to the table. “Sure you don’t want me to fix you a small one?”
“No, sweetheart, I’m fine. I have to go soon anyway.”
As Linda took a few bites of salad, Al took a swallow of iced tea and eyed her closely to get her attention. Aware of his gaze, she looked at him and took another bite of salad.
“Honey, you know, the more you look at it, the more you can see that you’re really making out like a bandit,” Al said with an intense expression fixed on his face. “I mean, you’re getting the full contract amount, the $10,000 add-on, and you may never have to give Hamilton any kickback at all.”
Linda looked up from her salad with a blank look.
“I know this isn’t going to sound right.” Al stopped and paused for effect. “But when you stop and think about it…you have to admit, it looks like you’re getting away with murder.”
55
MOST OF THE SEATS IN Judge Roth’s courtroom were taken.
It was Ryan’s sentencing hearing and all the parties and attorneys were present.
Judge Roth was waiting in chambers and was surprised when Jon told him Steve Ward was in the courtroom. Roth thought with Hamilton missing, Ward would think he’d soon be out of a job and Ryan’s sentencing wouldn’t matter anymore.
But there he was.
Ryan sat at the counsel table, trying to keep calm. Kept tightening and loosening his tie and looking at his attorney for signs of optimism. Noticing his wife Janet enter the courtroom, he turned all the way around and smiled at her. She smiled back and held her hand against her sweater, showing crossed fingers. He smiled, turned back around, assuming a contrite posture again, gazing straight ahead.
Janet and their two daughters sat in the front row next to the railing. Ryan’s attorney had made sure she and the girls had a place right in front, advising people about to sit down, “Sorry, those three seats are saved.”
In his chambers, Judge Roth went over the Department of Corrections 28-page report for the last time. Thanks to Jake, his decision would be easier now. With Hamilton out of the way, Ward was sapped of his power and he’d be on his own if he released the Munich story.
Roth closed the file, buzzed Judy that he was ready and entered the courtroom.
Seeing Roth enter, Jon cried out, “Department E of the Orange County Superior Court is now in session. Remain seated and come to order.”
“This is the sentencing hearing of Kevin Ryan,” Roth began. “I’ve read the court file, the probation report, all the letters recommending leniency, and the evaluation report submitted by the Department of Corrections.
“As all of you know, prison officials recommend state prison for Mr. Ryan. They also state they believe the lower term would be appropriate in this case. I am going to impose a state prison sentence. The only question for me is which term—-the lower or middle?”
The attorneys argued their predictable positions, discussing mitigating and aggravating circumstances.
After hearing all the arguments from both sides, Judge Roth made a few introductory comments. Then after pausing, he looked over at Ward. “The public needs to know justi
ce is fair and that everybody will be treated equally no matter what they do or who they know. It’s important for the public to know there will be no favoritism in applying the law.”
Roth stopped there and glanced at Jon, who stood up and stepped closer to Ryan.
Then Roth sentenced Ryan to the lower term, two years in state prison on both counts, to run concurrently. He didn’t impose the middle term because he wasn’t sure Ryan knew anything about Ward’s blackmail attempt. If he had known, Roth would’ve imposed the middle term and made it consecutive sentences.
Ryan sat silently, showing no emotion. All the lawyers and the audience remained seated, waiting for Judge Roth to leave the courtroom before they went outside.
Roth closed the file and called a recess. Then he rose and went out through the door to his chambers.
The newspaper reporters rushed out first, followed by the TV reporters.
Jon guarded Ryan until the sheriff’s deputies came from the lockup and took him into custody.
After most people had left the courtroom, Ward came up front and asked Jon if he could speak with Judge Roth. Jon went back to Roth’s chambers and told him Ward wanted to see him.
Roth wondered what the heck he wanted. “Okay, bring him back.”
He was curious what Ward had to say, and thought it’d be better to talk to him just in case Hamilton had told him he was taking a kickback or mentioned that he was meeting Roth at the courthouse.
That’s something Roth wanted to know now. Then he could take immediate corrective action.
If Ward was thinking of giving the Munich story to the press, Roth wanted to know that too. That would also seal Ward’s fate, since it would demonstrate such a viciousness that Roth would have no problem letting Jake take Ward out.
When Ward entered, Roth looked up and saw him slowly walk over to a chair in front of the desk. Ward looked at Roth, hesitated, then sat down.
“Thanks for seeing me,” Ward said.
Roth didn’t respond.
“Too bad about Ryan.” Ward paused, staring at Roth. “Had it coming, though.”
Roth gazed at him but still had nothing to say.