by Dave Daren
“A Honda Fit,” I said as I recognized the car’s outline.
“All I can afford with my salary,” she replied as we moved down the street. “Also, Japanese. I still have my pride, even though I left.”
“They’re great cars,” I assured her. “I’ve had mine for ages.”
“I really love mine, too,” she said. “I can’t imagine driving anything else.”
Unfortunately, the car wasn’t the only thing to respond to Miyo’s signal. A bent over form peeled away from a wall and approached us, hand held out in the universal gesture for money.
“Spare change, sir?” the hooded figure asked.
“Sorry, no,” I replied as I placed myself between Miyo and the panhandler. We moved more quickly now, and I could feel Miyo tense up beneath the fabric of the jacket.
The man followed us, his pace matching ours. When we were nearly to the car, he sprinted ahead and cut us off. He wasn’t empty-handed any more. He had a revolver in his hand, probably a thirty-eight special. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one having a 70s throwback week.
“Give me your wallets,” the man demanded.
“Not a chance,” I replied. I shifted my weight and waited for an opening. Miyo seemed to understand what I had done. She stepped slightly behind me so that my body shielded her but she didn’t block my options.
The man seemed uncertain, and I saw him risk a glance over his shoulder. That was all the space and time I needed. I struck first with a quick kick to the wrist and followed it up with a hard jab to the solar plexus. The gun clattered to the ground, and the man collapsed to his knees, his breath just a wheezing noise now.
“Get in,” I urged as I pushed Miyo towards the car. I saw two more shadows approach us, spread far enough apart that I wouldn’t be able to take both of them out in one swift action. They circled us and slowly closed the distance. Miyo squeaked, and I saw her duck down.
And then the two men attacked, taking turns striking at me. It was a well-coordinated attack, almost like a ballet. I could fend off their blows, but that was about it. They moved quickly, each landing a hit, and then leaving room for his partner. If I hadn’t been on the receiving end of their merciless assault, I might have enjoyed it.
My only real option was escape. I needed to get myself and Miyo either in the car or back to the main street. The car would take too much time, I decided, unless I got lucky and managed to knock both men to the ground at the same moment. Make that all three men, since the original assailant had now pulled himself to his feet, and was circling the fight.
A shot rang out, and the first assailant howled. He grabbed his left leg and started to hobble away. The rest of us froze, uncertain who had fired.
“Leave!” Miyo yelled. The three of us turned to look at her. She’d picked up the gun and pointed it at our little group. “Leave now, and I won’t call the police.”
The other two men shared a glance, and I took the opportunity to land a jab squarely to the jaw of the taller one. His partner steadied him, and the two men backed slowly away.
Miyo tossed me the keys to the car, and I dove into the driver’s seat while she circled to the passenger side. She kept the gun pointed at the men the entire time. I popped open the passenger door for her and she dipped inside. I pulled out of the parking spot before she’d even had a chance to close the door.
“Wow,” Miyo whispered after we were back on the main street. She looked at the gun that was still in her hand. “I’ve never fired one before.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised. She’d certainly looked like she knew what she was doing. That little voice of doubt was back.
“I thought I’d point it at the street,” she said. “But it just seemed to kick up in my hands. You never see that in the cop shows.”
“You hit the guy by accident?”
“Well, I guess I was aiming for his foot or something,” she explained. “I just thought it would make him stop moving.”
“It definitely did that,” I agreed. “You looked pretty fierce back there.”
“Did I?” she asked. “I was shaking like a leaf. I can’t believe I almost got mugged tonight.”
“Well,” I said doubtfully. “I’m not sure it was just a mugging. Those guys were trained fighters.”
“And muggers aren’t trained fighters,” she guessed.
“Not usually,” I agreed. “I’m not saying that muggers can’t throw a punch, but those two were using battle tactics, not just something they learned on the street.”
“Oh,” she said quietly.
“Where do you live?” I asked. “I’ll take you home.”
“Turn left at the next light,” she replied. I glanced over at her and realized she was still staring at the gun.
“You did good,” I assured her.
“So they were looking for someone specific,” she said.
“Probably,” I admitted. “Probably me, truth be told. It might be tied to one of my other cases.”
“Oh, okay,” she replied. She turned her gaze out the window but I could see a blush creep up her cheekbones.
“I’m really sorry about that,” I tried again. “I know it was scary, but I’m sure you’ll be okay.”
“I might have done a stupid thing,” she sighed as she turned her gaze on me.
“What stupid thing?” I asked.
“I might have told my boss that I had hired an attorney.”
“Oh,” was all I could think to say.
“Well, it was just so frustrating today,” Miyo explained. “She was in a bad mood because one of the other girls called in sick, and then when I told her I was leaving, she said I was fired, and tried to throw me out the door. I asked for all the money that was owed to me, and she told me that I wouldn’t get anything else from her. That’s when I told her I already had a lawyer, and I was going to sue her.”
“I’m sure that went over well,” I remarked.
“Turn right up here,” Miyo directed. “Well, that’s when she said that there were plenty of ways to make me shut up.”
“So what did you do?” I asked.
“I left,” she said. “But one of the other girls called me later to tell me that Melanie had been asking questions about me. She wanted to know if anybody knew who my lawyer was, or if I had made any plans for the day.”
“You think one of the girls might have told her that we were meeting for dinner?” I guessed.
“Maybe,” she replied. “I might have mentioned that I was meeting you tonight.”
“That’s not a lot of time to put together a hit squad,” I mused.
“They’re probably friends of Kyle,” she sighed. “He liked to talk about all the ‘real men’ who were his friends. Ooh, pull into that parking garage just ahead. I have a spot in there.”
I pulled into the garage as directed, while I pondered the odds of having two clients who were under threat from roving groups of thugs. Miyo’s story was plausible, but I wasn’t convinced that Melanie and Kyle had the wherewithal or the connections to put together a plan like that so quickly. There was something odd about the attack as well, though I couldn’t quite figure out what.
“Will you come up?” Miyo asked after I’d turned the engine off.
“Miyo,” I said quietly. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Please,” she said. “Just to make sure.” She looked at me with those large, dark eyes, and I felt our gazes connect again. I felt like a prisoner, locked into that pleading stare.
“Just to make sure,” I finally gave in. She didn’t smile, though I saw a gleam of triumph in her eyes. She led the way to the third floor, to a tiny apartment with a fantastic view of the apartment in the building next door. She waited by the front door while I poked my head into every possible hiding space, which took about fifteen seconds. When I’d cleared the tiny bathroom, she walked up behind me and placed her hand in mine.
“Miyo,” I said quietly. My heart raced, and I could feel hers respond in kind.
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She led me to the bedroom, never letting her eyes leave mine. We tumbled onto the bed, and then she was on top of me, tossing her jacket to the side and pulling her dress overhead. She was stunning in the moonlight, her skin aglow and her hair a shimmering cascade. Her chocolate nipples were already pointed against her white breasts, and I could feel the heat from her body as she leaned in for a long, wet kiss. She tasted like cinnamon and cream and something I couldn’t identify.
I moaned, even as I fought to remove my clothing. She laughed softly, and then she was skillfully removing every piece of fabric from my body. I caught a glimpse of the tattoo, and my only coherent thought for the rest of the night was that it did go all the way down.
Chapter 13
I spent the rest of the week rendering that night with Miyo. The sex had been untamed and endless, and Sofia had spent the next day teasing me about my “new glow”. Miyo only sent one email, a simple statement thanking me for dinner, and offering to pay for our next meal, should there be one. I forced myself to focus on the upcoming ArDex hearing, and to ignore the little devil that kept suggesting I respond to Miyo’s invitation.
The day of the hearing was another hot one, and I was glad that I still had the Caddy. I’d always thought the air conditioner in my little Honda was good, but the Caddy had an a/c that felt like a gale force wind. I walked into court with only a trace of sweat on my brow.
The ArDex attorneys were from Ramsey Taft, an old-school, white-shoe L.A. firm that now had offices scattered around the world. There were fifteen Ramsey Taft personnel at the table, and there was no easy way to determine who was actually an attorney and who was support staff. I decided the elderly gentleman with the bow tie was the senior partner. He sat quietly, and let the others sort through the various boxes, set up the computers, and handle all the mundane details of appearing in court. I gave him a small nod, and he returned the favor.
I glanced around the courtroom and saw a familiar figure on one of the back benches. Joseph Kurzak had taken a seat near the doors, no doubt for a quick escape. I raised my hand and received a scowl in return.
“All rise,” the bailiff called out.
Judge Luca swept into the room and took his place at the bench before most of the crowd had even made it to their feet.
“Let’s get this moving along, people,” he said as he glanced at the docket sheet the clerk handed him. “I don’t have time to waste today. Who’s up?”
“Bela Bertoch of Ramsey Taft for the Defendant, Your Honor,” the old man with the bow tie said quickly.
“Mr. Bertoch,” the judge replied as he looked up. “And Mr. Creed, I see you're back.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” I agreed.
“All right, Mr. Bertoch,” the judge declared. “Make your case.”
“Your Honor,” Bertoch intoned, “We ask that you dismiss this suit today on the grounds that it is frivolous. The Plaintiff has not offered a shred of evidence that ArDex has now or ever been involved in any illegal activities. The complaint is filled with speculation but offers no proof. We humbly suggest that this is simply a matter of a disgruntled shareholder, who was outvoted at the last board meeting. She has now brought this complaint, for no better reason than she doesn’t like the result. In the process, she has threatened the good name and reputation of the company her father founded. The company asks that you dismiss the suit before any more damage is done.”
“No illegal activities ever?” the judge asked. His scepticism dripped from every word.
“ArDex Shipping has never been named in either a Federal or State action for racketeering,” Bertoch replied.
“Uh-huh,” the judge replied.
“Your honor, the Plaintiff learned after the meeting that her brother had sold his shares to the company rather than to her, depriving her of the majority shares,” Bertoch continued. “We believe this is what fueled her desire to inflict harm on the company. However, this family discord has no place in the running of the business.”
“The brother, that would be Leonardo Bernardi,” the judge said as he looked over the motion again.
“Yes, that’s correct,” Bertoch agreed.
“I understand he’s deceased,” the judge said as he flipped to another document.
“Some time shortly before the meeting, Your Honor,” Bertoch explained. “Apparently a suicide.”
“We have grounds to believe he was murdered, Your Honor,” I interrupted.
“Yes, I’ve read your complaint,” the judge replied as he glanced up. “Have the police started an investigation?”
“I have reason to believe that the FBI is considering one,” I hedged.
“That would be a no, then,” the judge pointed out.
“Your Honor,” Bertoch cut in, “There are no grounds for any ruling other than suicide in the death of Leonardo Bernardi.”
“There was a witness,” I interrupted again.
“A jogger who might have seen someone standing on top of the bluffs, but that person was gone by the time the police arrived,” Bertoch sighed. “The witness doesn’t claim to have seen Mr. Bernardi pushed, or heard a fight, or offered any evidence that anything untoward happened. There’s no law that says the person at the top of the cliff had to stay around and wait for the police, assuming that such a person exists.”
“I’m aware of the law, Mr. Bertoch,” the judge replied.
“Your Honor,” Bertoch said, “this action is simply a temper tantrum thrown by a young and ambitious woman who has been thwarted in her plan to take control of the company. I understand that she may believe she has certain rights based on family ties, but the simple fact is that the board has majority control. Ms. Bernardi can always sell her shares if she is unhappy with the direction the board has taken.”
“Your Honor,” I cut in, “I’ll concede that my client may be ambitious, but her only desire is to ensure the long term health of the company. And yes, it was founded by her father, and yes, she has strong ties to that company, but our suit isn’t based on a ‘temper tantrum’. The board poses a serious threat to the company.”
“The company’s profits have been steadily increasing over the last four years,” Bertoch pointed out. “As you can clearly see from the annual reports.”
“Because the company has become the personal shipping line for a yakuza,” I replied. “ArDex has only one customer--”
“A legitimate corporation.” It was Bertoch’s turn to interrupt. “Your Honor, the company in question is a major supplier of baby care products. ArDex and Yakata Enterprises reached a deal that was beneficial to both companies. How does that suddenly mean that ArDex is now involved in mob activity?”
“Yakata Enterprises does make baby products,” I conceded. “It’s also a front for yakuza activity, specifically for the yakuza run by a man known as Mizuchi. ArDex ships are being used to smuggle arms and drugs around the world, and the board is aware of that activity. That makes ArDex and its board subject to racketeering laws.”
“Do you have any evidence?” the judge demanded. He held up a hand to stall whatever complaint Bertoch had been about to make.
“We can tie various board members to the yakuza,” I replied. “We can also show that Yakata is a front.”
Bertoch rolled his eyes but held his tongue. The judge flipped through a few more pages.
“You have an unnamed source for many of these allegations,” the judge pointed out.
“Yes, Your Honor,” I agreed.
“Is this source going to be named at any point?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” I said as I crossed my fingers. I really hoped Agent Smart wouldn’t leave me hanging if I needed her in court.
“All right, let’s get back to the sale for a minute,” the judge declared. “You say the sale wasn’t valid?”
“We believe Mr. Bernardi’s signature was coerced,” I replied.
“Your Honor,” Bertoch said, “We have a witness to the signature. A highly respected member of the bar who is w
illing to go on the record and state that he saw Leonardo Bernardi sign the contract, and that he did so of his own free accord.”
“Your Honor,” I responded, “We can show that the witness could not have been in Boston with Mr. Bernardi at the time the contract was signed.”
Both the judge and Bertoch gave me a raised eyebrow. There was a scuffling sound from the back of the courtroom, and I glanced back. Kurzak stepped through the doors quickly, a trail of dust in his wake. I turned back to the bench and saw that Bertoch had also witnessed Kurzak’s hasty departure. I saw puzzlement and anger flit across his face, but he had his poker face back in place when he turned to face the judge.
“Your Honor,” both Bertoch and I began at the same time. Judge Luca held up his hand again, and we fell silent.
“I’ll be honest, Mr. Creed,” the judge began, and I saw a look of triumph on the faces of some of the younger Ramsey employees, “It doesn’t seem like you have much to go on. But, I think you do have enough to raise some serious questions. I’m willing to let this case proceed for now.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” I replied gratefully.
“All right, let’s talk discovery,” the judge said. “How long do you need?”
“We’re asking for two months,” I stated.
“Mr. Bertoch?”
“Two months is agreeable,” Bertoch said amiably. I was impressed with how quickly he could shift personas.
“Two months,” the judge declared with a nod to the clerk. “Now, I expect discovery to proceed without any action on my part. I don’t have the time or the patience to deal with any petty behavior. You are advised to answer all discovery requests in a timely manner. You are also advised not to employ any tactics such as needling a witness or producing irrelevant material. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Bertoch and I agreed simultaneously.
“Good,” the judge noted as he glanced at his clerk. “Any other issues?”
“Your Honor,” Bertoch sighed dramatically, and I saw one of the junior attorneys shoot a sneer in my direction. “We have one more motion to make today.”