Directed Verdict (Failed Justice Book 1)

by Rick Santini

  She stuck out her chest and smiled back politely.

  She’s old enough to be my mother. Maybe my grandmother.

  When he came out a few minutes later, she was gone.

  Anthony had one more and then headed back to his bungalow.

  I’ll begin looking for a job in the morning.

  Now all he wanted to do was get off his feet and lay down. He wasn’t used to drinking in the middle of the afternoon.

  By the time he fell asleep, the woman at the bar was sitting in her own place, waiting for the phone to ring. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was getting anxious.

  ***

  The relationship between Bob Sugarman and Judge Kolkolski had decidedly taken a turn for the worse. The judge was now assigned to strictly civil cases, probably for the rest of his judicial career.

  I hate it. I God damn hate it.

  Sugarman had not tried a civil case in the past twenty years. This was what he lived for. Getting a guilty man off through the powers of persuasion. Conning the judge and jury. It was the ultimate high.

  Neither was now in a position to help each other, even if they wanted to.

  Robert was sure his very lucrative criminal law practice was now deep in the crapper because of Judge K. Had he not granted that stupid motion, he would be trying high profile felony cases instead of plea bargaining simple misdemeanor matters. He was also spending time in traffic court, the armpit of the system. Not only was it humiliating, but his attitude was foul, his wife avoided him when he came home, and he was getting retainers for $500, not five to twenty-five thousand.

  Whatever possessed me to make that damn motion for a directed verdict? Sugarman constantly asked himself.

  How could I have been naïve enough to think I could get away with granting his stupid request? Judge K kept wondering.

  It’s his fault I am where I am.

  It’s his fault this is all happening to me.

  Two separate minds, one common thought.

  Wally now sat at his kitchen table and lit up another cigarette, his third in the last half hour. His stomach was filled with acid from all the coffee he had consumed. He looked in the refrigerator. There wasn’t much to look at. A half loaf of white bread, a jar of peanut butter, vegetables that should have been thrown out days ago, condiments, and four cans of Bud Lite beer.

  He opened the can and looked at the wall clock. It was six thirty. He picked up the phone.

  “Hi, it’s me.”

  Close to an hour and a half later he hung up. All four empty beer cans sat on the table. Wally was not quite sure what he had just agreed to.

  I really have nothing to lose. My life’s in the crapper already.

  After four beers, three more than he was used to, Wally wasn’t hungry. At least not for food. It was about time he took charge of his life again. He would meet with the Chief Justice just as soon as he could.

  They sure as hell won’t have ol’ Wally Kolkolski to kick around anymore.

  CHAPTER 20

  PART TWO

  BEWARE–COUGAR ON THE LOOSE

  Bill Johnson picked up the phone on the first ring. He was sure he knew who was on the other end.

  “Yes.”

  “You called me.”

  “I think I may be on to something.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Our mutual friend was in Miami last month for three weeks. I have verified his ex-wife lives there. Apparently she is now unemployed and spends her days drinking and feeling sorry for herself. More importantly, their son was killed in jail almost a dozen years ago. That’s all I know right now. I’ll have more for you in a few days.”

  Before Bill could continue, the line went dead. He was not sure if the call was dropped by accident or on purpose. In any case, the message had been delivered.

  It would take less than twenty-four hours until he had all the facts on the case of People of the State of Florida vs. Theodore Kolkolski.

  There was no question in his mind, there was a connection between Judge Kolkolski’s behavior and why his son had been in prison. All he had to do was find out what it was.

  The caller on the other end of the line was already ahead of him. Johnson may have been an IBMer but he was not a highly skilled hacker. Within hours Mr. C would know all the facts.

  ***

  Anthony knew he had to find a job. He was no longer living at home with Mama, he was not eating for free, and he knew he would need a set of wheels rather soon. He took the classifieds of the Herald and took a slow walk to Buzzy’s, the bar on Collins and 17th. He knew by one thirty it would be quiet. He would grab a microwaved burger and a beer and go through the help wanted section.

  To no one’s surprise, Miss Big Bust was sitting in the same seat at the end of the bar. She was nursing her beer like yesterday. Only today she seemed to be in deep thought, like she was deciding what to do.

  Anthony nodded and headed for one of the many empty tables. He ordered, spread the paper on the table, and took out a pen and his cell phone.

  Time to get to work.

  After forty-five minutes and five phone calls, he still had no viable prospects. He ordered another beer. Ms. Big Bust brought it to the table.

  “Looks like you could use a friend. Someone to talk to. The brew’s on me.

  Anthony was about to say he was busy and didn’t want company when he realized that was exactly what he needed. Someone to talk to. The fact she was a generation or two older was no longer an issue. She was now a caring, understanding human being. The fact she was a reasonably attractive older woman that appeared interested in him was a welcome bonus.

  “My name’s Bernice.”

  Anthony hesitated a moment. He reached out to shake her hand. “Hi, I’m Antonio.”

  The handshake lasted a few seconds longer than necessary. Neither appeared to want it to end.

  “Have a seat. I’m new to Miami. Need to find a job.”

  “Maybe I can help you. I’ve lived here for more than twelve years.”

  Anthony gave her his best smile. “I can use all the help I can. Let me buy you a beer.”

  Bernice returned the smile and nodded.

  I’m not that old. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be with a younger man. I’m not a bad looking cougar. I see guys still checking out my rack. I sorta like his bald head. Makes him look sexy. Good looking young stud. This could be interesting. Maybe more than interesting.

  Bernice had completely blocked out the conversation she had last night with her ex.

  Bernice signaled the bartender for a pitcher. It could be a long afternoon.

  ***

  Bill Johnson had an employment emergency. The entire team was called in on a logistics problem. He had no time to indulge his passion to get something on Judge Kolkolski.

  His cell phone was vibrating. He knew who it was but in no way could he take the call. A minute later the vibrating was replaced by a text.

  Alexey: Answer found. Thanks for lead. Will talk later.

  Johnson was both relieved and curious. He knew there was a connection. He could feel it in his gut. He mentioned to the group leader he needed a quick break and took his cell to the bathroom with him.

  He wanted details.

  ***

  William L. Johnson was not the only one curious, not the only one wanting more details.

  “So Antonio, where are you from?”

  Anthony did not want to disclose too much but he knew his Jersey accent was difficult to hide.

  “Jersey, just outside Paterson.”

  Bernice wasn’t surprised. She was sure he was from somewhere near north Jersey.

  “We’re practically neighbors. I grew up in Newark. Moved down here after my divorce.” She quickly added, “I’ve only been married once. I would never move back north.”

  Anthony was about to comment but didn’t. He knew he probably had too much to drink. Bernice was looking better and better. He also knew if he talked too much he would
slip up and say something stupid or revealing. Like his real name or the fact he too grew up in Newark.

  “I’d love to talk to you more but I got to follow up on a few of these leads.” He paused and without thinking added, “Gonna need some folding money if I’m going to take you out to dinner.”

  They both looked at each other.

  Bernice thought, This is going easier than I thought.

  Anthony could not believe what just came out of his mouth. It had to be the now empty pitcher of beer.

  This is going faster than I’m ready for.

  Bernice wrote her phone number on a bar napkin and stuffed it deep in his right front pants pocket. A little to close for comfort.

  “Don’t hesitate to use it.”

  Anthony was not sure what she was referring to. He had nothing to say, so he said nothing. He grabbed his cell phone, newspaper, and left.

  He forgot to pay for his burger, beer, or tip. He forgot a great deal of things.

  CHAPTER 21

  “Yes, Wally, what is it? If you’re asking to be reassigned back to criminal court, the answer is still the same. No. It’s too soon and you’re not ready. Now if there’s nothing else, I have a very busy schedule.

  “There is something else, so sit your bony ass down and listen to me—for a change.”

  The Chief Justice was stunned. No one, absolutely no one, talked to him in that tone of voice. He was the chief judge of the circuit.

  “What the hell has gotten into you, Wally?”

  “I quit.”

  “What?”

  “Between the DA’s office and this stinking place, and counting my vacation and sick days, I’ve got my time in. I hate civil and you know it. Why you’re punishing me for just doing my job, doing the right thing, is beyond me. I don’t need this crap anymore. When the term is over, less than three months from now, I’m gone. My letter of resignation as of June 1st will be on your desk tomorrow. Don’t bother to get up or show me to the door. I damn sure know where it is.”

  The Chief Justice sat there, unable to respond. His fondest wish had just come true.

  Judge Steven Saltmeyer consulted the large three month calendar behind his desk. The spring term would end in seventy-seven days. That included weekends and Easter.

  “Hot damn!”

  The judge’s secretary rushed in. “Did you just call me, Your Honor?”

  “No, Addie, I was just celebrating something I have wanted for some time. Please go back to whatever you were doing.”

  Addie had been with the judge for close to fifteen years. She had never heard him swear before. She had never seen that shit-eating grin on his face, either.

  Something big just happened.

  ***

  “The judge’s son, his name was Theodore, was convicted of rape in Dade County. He swore it was consensual. It probably was but the prosecutor needed a conviction. He was running for reelection. One more notch on his gun belt. His lawyer asked for a directed verdict. The judge wouldn’t touch it with a stick. The kid was sent to a max security prison. He was raped and shanked in the showers. That’s where they found his body. That answers your questions as to why Kolkolski hates the system; why he let that little bastard walk.”

  Bill Johnson could not answer. He knew it had to be something big, but this. To know your own son was innocent and then got raped and knifed in prison. That was too much.

  “Thank you.”

  Bill hung up. He didn’t ask what was next. He knew double jeopardy would apply. Once the kid walked, that was the end of it. He also knew the Russian mafia had their own brand of justice.

  He was already feeling sorry for Anthony.

  There didn’t seem anything left for Bill to do. He wasn’t about to tell anyone it was he who found out the judge had an ex-wife in Florida and told a mobster about it.

  The further I can distance myself from this mess, the better.

  Had Wally known his little secret had been discovered, by of all people, the father of the complainant, he would not have been feeling so good. As it was, he was ready to celebrate. In just over two months, he would be free. He could tell all those pompous asses on the bench to kiss his ass. Every last one of them. They were never his friends; never his colleagues. They were just fellow members of the bench who would just as soon screw him than give him the right time. That’s exactly how he felt about his brethren on the bench.

  I hope I never see those SOBs again—as long as I live

  Wally had long forgotten that old adage, Never burn your bridges behind you.

  They come in very handy in a strategically forced retreat.

  ***

  Wally couldn’t wait to call Bernice, to tell her the good news. Soon he would be free to do whatever he wanted. Go when and where he wanted, stay as long as it pleased him and come home, wherever that was, when he damn well pleased. His retirement package was one of the best in the country. He could do as he damn well wanted to—with anyone he wanted to do it with.

  After years and years as a yes man, after acting prim and proper on the bench, after all that wasted time doing for others, it is now my turn.

  ***

  No one answered the phone. He waited and called back ten minutes later. Maybe she was outside and didn’t hear it ring. Or was in the can. He was sure when he called last night, she said she would be home. He tried her cell phone. Again, she did not pick up.

  Maybe she went to the movies and turned her phone off. All those damn signs on the screen, Silence Your Cell Phone. Any idiot knows that.

  Had Wally known where his ex was, and with who, and what they were now doing, he would not have been pleased. Not in the slightest.

  ***

  Anthony, or Antonio, as he now called himself, could not stop looking at the folded napkin. The one with Bernice’s phone number on it. She had already told him, ‘Don’t hesitate to use it.’ She had practically touched his dick when she shoved the paper in his pocket. He knew damn well what she meant. He had heard all the stories about older horny women. They were experienced and couldn’t get enough of it. They had no time to play games. They knew why you were there, so why waste time? That’s the best place to learn, from an older woman. He had heard it all the time. Now it could be his time.

  “Bernice, it’s me, Antonio. From Buzzy’s.”

  “You sweet boy, I know who it is. How could I possibly forget a face, and a body, like yours?”

  Bingo. She’s telling me I can have whatever I want, whenever I want.

  Anthony could practically feel himself getting horny.

  “I was wondering if you were free tonight. Maybe we could talk and get to know each other a little better.”

  If that doesn’t tell her what I want, nothing will.

  “Do you have a pen or pencil? Write this down.” She told him her address, going over it slowly so he could write it down. “It’s just a block from Buzzy’s. Look for a gray single family house on the west side of the street. Just ring the bell and come in. The door will be unlocked. Give me an hour to get ready and bring over a six pack. I’ll be waiting for you. Bye, Lover Boy.”

  Lover Boy? Guess that settles it.

  Bernice had just enough time to straighten the place up, meaning put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, throw out the last three days’ newspapers, and make the bed. She would then take a quick shower, put on something sexy but easy to take off, and switch the phone to silent.

  An hour later Wally gave up trying. He was too emotionally tired to go out so he opened a can of beer and switched on the TV. He would tell Bernice the good news tomorrow night when he called.

  CHAPTER 22

  Word of the pending retirement swept the courthouse. It was not as if the chief judge posted a notice. Good news travels fast; scandalous news at the speed of light. Depending on what side of the fence you were on, this was the very best or the very worst news.

  Most of the judges were delighted. At times Wally could be a loose cannon. On the other hand, attorn
eys like Bob Sugarman made a living off his unpredictable rulings. A simple request by defense counsel for a bit of evidence not to be allowed could make or break a case.

  Whether you liked him or not, he was a character, he was unique, and he would be missed.

  When Sugarman heard the news, he was conflicted. He had always liked Judge K, as he referred to him in private. They had worked together in the District Attorney’s office years and years ago. Yes, he was pissed his practice was now suffering severely, but there was nothing either of them could do about it now. There had been many profitable years before that. Bob always believed it was better to have a friend than an enemy. Be my friend, not my foe. The defense lawyer would never know when and if they would meet again. Besides, it was him, Bob, that made the motion. He truly had no one to blame but himself.

  “Judge, it’s Bob Sugarman. I just heard the good news. Congratulations. Would it be unethical for me to buy you a drink in public?”

  “You can buy me a God damn steak dinner for all I care. For the next few months I’m stuck in this hell hole called civil trials. No conflict there, and if there were, I would tell the Chief Justice to stick it you know where.”

  It was agreed the following night they would meet at Pen and Pencil Steak House, for the largest, most tender, most expensive steak on the menu, along with a good bottle or two of a quality red. It was the very least he could do for the soon to be retired jurist.

  Wally had temporarily forgotten he was to call Bernice the next night.

  ***

  Bernice was now thinking, “If tonight is anything like last night, I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

  Anthony had been prompt. He had shown up fifty-nine minutes after he hung up. He too showered and put on some clean clothes. He reminded himself he needed to go to Target or Wal-Mart to buy some more clothes. Especially underwear. He also needed to find a laundromat close by. Finding a place to buy a six pack was easy. There was a bodega on every corner.