*****
“I’ll give you a lift back now” Rob slurs.
“Just one more drink?” I say. We’ve moved to sofas from the high bar stools because it was too hard to stay upright.
“No, no, no, we can’t” says Rob sadly. “Jason’s texted me five times. He’s said if you’re drunk he’s going to kill me.”
“I’m not drunk!” I get up, then I sit down again.
“Of course you aren’t, but Jason, he’s my friend, and I don’t want to die.”
“Ah” I wave, “he’s always saying that, he’s always trying to kill me.”
“Lies!” laughs Rob, pointing unsteadily at me, “lies! It would never stand up in a court of law!”
“A bit like you!” and we both start laughing again, falling back into the sofa. “But I want to understand more about justice…” I moan.
“Well, what more do you want to understand?”
“Well, like, all that stuff you told those policemen, right…”
“Messrs Maker and Dredd, those fine upstanding gentlemen.”
“Yeah, them, that was all bullshit, right…”
“Shhhhhh….” whispers Rob theatrically.
“Right, yeah, exactly, but it got to, you know, the right outcome…”
“And justice was served.” Rob puts his glass down decisively.
“Except, maybe, well…”
Rob leans over me and looks at me hard. “Well, what, my friend?”
“Well, you know, Van, now they think she shags everything that moves…”
“So she’ll have gone up in their estimation”
I scratch my head, can’t quite get that one. “Well, okay, maybe, but then the real culprit wasn’t brought to justice.”
Rob puts his hand on my knee. “He wasn’t? From what I understood, he is now at one with the ether. And justice for all.” He nods. “You see, my friend, you have to trust the system. There may be some slight, well, irregularities, along the way, but no system is completely perfect. Ours just needs to be, shall we say, regulated, by tough, professional people, like, well, like myself, to ensure that the right outcome is achieved, no matter what obstacles are thrown in our path. One just needs to step back, to keep focused on the bigger picture, and to make sure that everyone is rewarded in the right way. Our little case here is a perfect example. A woman, in this case, Vanessa is hurt. But she’s not the only one. You, my friend, you were hurt too, in the name of love, because of her cold heart…”
“Well, no, not exactly…”
“Shush. Keep focused. Some vultures, in this case, the police, more precisely, Detectives Maker and Dredd, sense some vulnerability and are keen to exploit it. They have no proof that you did this, and yet they are determined to bring you down. They see you as a lost, vulnerable soul, and they…”
“Well, I’m not that vulnerable…”
“There there. Of course you are. They see a lost, vulnerable soul, and they think, excellent, a chance for a quick resolution, no matter where the evidence points, and a chance to further their careers. You see? Their motives aren’t quite as pure as the layman may expect. And not only that, but our friend Mr Dredd even sees the opportunity to lay his dirty hands on the sweet, vulnerable girl that has been hurt…”
“I thought you said that she was cold hearted…”
“Details! Details! Detective Dredd not only wants to frame you for a crime that you did not commit, he also wants to take advantage and get himself some, well, as they say, action, for the same price. As the common man would say, to have his cake and eat it. You see?”
“Well, yeah, I guess?” I’m feeling quite confused.
“That, my friend, is why people like myself are so important. What was important in this case? Tell me…” he says, jabbing his finger into my chest.
“Well, to erm, prove that I was innocent?”
“Exactly! Well, yes that was important, but also important was to make the small people in the police realise that they have absolutely no power to corrupt the system. That they will continue to be paid a pittance, live in small houses, wear cheap suits, and see their cars blown across the road with every gust of wind, no matter how hard they try. You understand?”
“Erm… I guess…”
“And in order for that to happen, people like me need to be paid an awful lot of money, so that the best and the brightest become lawyers, and are able to keep them in check. So that we can go into those rooms, and tell them whatever we like to tell them, true or not…”
“It wasn’t true…”
“Will you stop focusing on the details? Please?” He wipes his hair out of his face. “The point is not whether it’s true or it’s not true. That is not the point at all. The point is that they know they have no way of disproving it. They know that I have won. And they look at me, in my expensive suit, and watch me drive off, in my frankly fabulous car, and they know that they have lost. And they know that they will always lose. And that some day, they will have to accept it. And yet…” he looks down at his empty glass. “Oh, we’ve run out of drinks.”
“And yet?” I prompt. He looks back up at me. “Oh? Yes, and yet, they carry on trying, and you know why? Because it’s all they can do. They don’t know how to do anything else. And that is as important as everything else, if not… and I mean this… if not more important.”
“It is? Could we get just one more round in?” I’m feeling thirsty again.
“Of course it is! Because if they give up, and they don’t do anything, then all the little people will start wondering why. And if they start wondering why, well, then they may want to do something about it. And if they start doing something about it, then it may imbalance the system. And if the system becomes imbalanced, well, who knows what would happen…” He starts fishing in his pocket for something.
“People would start to rebel?” I ask.
“What? No, well, yes, maybe, they would, maybe they would. But they would also stop paying me and then, well, then… oh my god, is that the time, Jason will kill me!”
“Just one more drink? I still don’t completely understand the justice system” I say, hopefully.
“No, no, no, I’ve got to stop this” says Rob, “James!” he shouts, “James, come over here, my good man. Bring my friend a sober pill and a glass of water.”
“And a little cocaine!” I shout after James. “Shush!” whispers Rob, theatrically, “we don’t need to ask him for that, we have enough ourselves.” He shakes out his packet into two lines on the table. We’ve lost our straws and so I lick one of the lines into my mouth. “How does that taste?” asks Rob, and I laugh. James is standing next to us again, holding a tray with a glass of water and a solitary white pill on it. “These really work?” I ask. “Of course” says James without changing his expression. “They are amazing” says Rob, and so I shrug, put the pill in my mouth and swallow.
Kings of the Night Page 37