No Mercy

by Torbert, R. J. ;

  Maddie asked, “What's that grin for?”

  Simmons shook his head. “Sorry I was just thinking about being called into Judge Green's office before your trial started.”

  “Tell me, please,” Madison said as she grabbed his hand.

  “Please, I need a good story.”

  “OK,” he laughed. “Looking back, it's humorous, but at the time I was very, very concerned about you. It was six months after the Face of Fear investigation ended, and the trial was set to begin when Judge Green called in ADA Ashley and me. He sat down in his chair, let out a belch, drank some water, and said,

  ‘What the fuck is going on here?' We both looked at him puzzled because we didn't know what he meant.

  “‘Gee,' Judge Green said as he tapped his temple with his forefinger. ‘First you clowns get me to release Patty Saunders to bait the killers. She gets herself sliced open, and now look who is here defending her murderer, the attorney who represented Patty Saunders.'”

  Judge Green's concerns were accurate. Simmons was the attorney for Patty Saunders who was responsible for the kidnapping of Deborah Lance on the Cross Island Ferry. He took her case pro bono in the hopes of building his résumé and it paid off. He earned the respect of the detectives involved in the case, including the grumpy Detective Lieutenant Cronin. They all agreed he was the best choice to represent Madison, but Judge Green was not happy he was preparing a case for someone who murdered his client.

  “‘Your Honor,' Ashley replied, ‘Mr. Simmons had nothing to do with setting up Patty Saunders's release. It was at the request of Detective Lieutenant Cronin and the DA's office.' ‘Bullshit,' Judge Green replied. ‘He was sitting in my chambers with you and Cronin agreeing to let Saunders out on bail. She is killed by Madison Robinson, and here he is again. Just what in the hell are you guys up to?'

  “Green looked at Ashley and said, ‘So now you're defending Simmons,' and then looked back at me. He asked, ‘Just who the hell is paying you for this?'

  “I looked over at Ashley, then back at the Judge, and said, ‘They are anonymous.'

  “‘Oh shit, here we go again,' Green replied. ‘This is giving me gas pockets, excuse me,' he said as he got up.

  “When he left the room, Ashley remarked, ‘Some things never change,' and we both laughed. Judge Green was back within a few minutes and sat down.

  “I had started to take a seat when the judge said, ‘Please don't get comfortable. Listen you two; I won't be allowing cameras during the trial. There will not be any grandstanding in my courtroom, and if I think for one second you two are conspiring a verdict together, I will not only throw both of you in jail, I will have you disbarred. Do I make myself clear?'

  “‘Yes, Your Honor,' we both answered at the same time. We both stood there as Judge Green continued to stare, until finally he spoke again: ‘Will you two please get the fuck out of my chambers?'”

  Madison laughed as Simmons finished telling the story. The truth is Judge Green was as off-the-wall as most considered. It was a favor called in from DA Steinberg's office to have him preside over the case. He kept things moving, hid his sympathy toward the defendant, and reminded everyone of the letter of the law many times during the trial. He made himself available to the jury for their questions and scolded them when he felt interpretation of the law was misunderstood by them.

  Madison's face became serious for a moment, and she asked, “Was it difficult for you to defend someone who killed your client?”

  “Yes,” the attorney answered right away. “I only accepted the case because people I respected asked me to take it. I couldn't understand why detectives such as Powers, Johnson, and Cronin wanted you represented, but as time went on and I got to know you, I understood. While the law doesn't agree with you, it can't change that people care about you, Maddie.”

  She brushed her hair off her face and said, “Well, Powers loves my sister, so that's part of it.”

  “No,” Simmons answered, “Detective Johnson told me he was going to shoot you while you had the mask on. It was Powers that stopped him, and you know Johnson, he has no problem shooting people.” They both laughed.

  “Listen,” Madison said, “tell Paul that many of the women in this facility are here because of drugs.”

  “So?” Simmons asked.

  Madison replied quickly, “They're getting the drugs from licensed, professional doctors.”

  Simmons looked confused, and Madison said, “Listen, these girls are making appointments to see their doctors and once they are alone in the little room they slip the doctor a few hundred dollars and they get their prescription for oxycodone or samples that doctors have. These girls have no chance, and the doctors are part of the problem. This is not a rehab center. They get out, and because of background checks, they get no jobs and end up back here 80 percent of the time. All that is going to happen is the jails are going to get more and more overcrowded.”

  Simmons tilted his head and asked, “And what do you expect Paul to do?”

  Madison shook her head at the attorney. “Don't you think the doctors should be held responsible for being part of the problem?” Al Simmons nodded and replied, “I will speak to him.”

  Officer Bay opened the door to tell them their hour was up. Madison looked up at the tall guard and remarked, “It's been an hour and ten minutes, Officer Bay, thank you.”

  He looked at her and Simmons and said, “Oh, guess my watch is off.”

  Madison hugged Simmons good-bye, and she started to go to the changing area to put on her regular orange coveralls. As Maddie and Officer Bay walked back to her housing cell she turned and thanked the officer for being polite and courteous to her.

  “It's my job, ma'am,” he replied.

  As they continued to walk she spoke again, asking, “What is your first name, Officer Bay?”

  “It's John, Madison.”

  “You have escorted me on and off for eighteen months and I never knew that,” she replied.

  “You never asked,” the officer replied.

  As he put her back in her cell, Madison replied, “That's interesting.”

  “Why is that?” the officer asked.

  “Oh, nothing I guess,” she answered, “other than I killed a man named John.” Officer Bay stopped in his tracks and looked at her as she began to laugh. “I'm sorry; I guess I have a sick sense of humor.”

  The officer nodded as he began to walk away, and said, “I will see you Wednesday.”

  Madison sat down on her bed and had a flashback about the day she killed John Winters in the abandoned building across from St. Charles Hospital. They had since torn down the building and converted it into a parking lot. It seemed like yesterday that she cut him deep for bringing misery to her sister. Unlike in movies, she wanted her victims to see her face before they died. She felt so much anger that, depending where she was, she would pull off the Ghost Face mask just to see their expressions before taking their last breath. She could still go over each killing in her head. Sometimes she couldn't believe she was the vigilante, but as her thoughts showed her taking the mask off to see their faces, reality would set in. John Winters, the leader, his brothers Kyle and Mason, as well as Wayne Starfield were responsible for Deborah's kidnapping. Her thoughts were broken by Officer Bay's replacement, Officer Gates, a pretty young female officer, petite at 5'4” and one hundred pounds, who had been a regular escorting Madison during the night shifts as well as alternate Sundays for the past three months.

  “Dinnertime,” Gates announced as she put the tray of turkey, mashed potatoes, corn, and bread through the opening.

  “Tell me, Officer Gates,” Madison asked, “why is the food so bland?”

  The young officer laughed as she replied, “The cooks don't know everyone's diet restrictions and possible stomach problems. So poof, everything is cooked with nothing added.”

  “OK,” t
he inmate answered. “May I ask your name? I just found out Officer Bay's name is John.”

  The young officer had a look of puzzlement.

  “Um,” she hesitated, “I'm not sure that's a good idea.” As she began to walk away, she added, “I'm sorry.” Madison looked at her dinner and began to pick up the turkey slices with her fingers. After a couple bites she put her hands over her face and cried. She didn't see Officer Gates looking at her.

  As Simmons was driving back to Yaphank headquarters he was upset with himself that he didn't ask Madison how she knew about the drugs being handed out from doctors. He remembered Officer Bay's name badge and called the facility. Officer Bay was unavailable during the lockdown on his shift but would return the call when he left the building. Simmons made it back to Yaphank in thirty-three minutes and asked to speak to both Powers and Johnson. There was no need for a private room because everything about Priority 1 was private. While the relationship between the detectives and the attorney had gotten off to a rocky start eighteen months before, it had transformed into a mutual respect for their work and accomplishments. The attorney told them of his discussion with Madison and wasn't sure if there was anything that could be done but felt they should know. They thanked him and told him most likely it would be given to one of the other squads. Paul warned Simmons that nothing may happen, due to priorities.

  “That sucks,” Detective Ellyn Baker remarked. She was doing paperwork across the aisle and couldn't help but overhear the conversation. “Doctors are giving away pills for cash and getting away with it?”

  “Allegedly, yes,” Simmons answered.

  “Well, that bites the big one,” the detective replied as she walked away in her stocking feet.

  As Powers and Simmons looked at each other, Bud spoke. “Now, there's a girl after my own heart, even if she doesn't wear shoes,” he said, as he smiled.

  Paul waved at Bud as he spoke to Simmons: “I'll bring it up to the boss, Al, and I'll be in touch.”

  “Come on,” Bud remarked, “I'll walk you out. I have to pick up something in the car.” Detective Johnson walked out with the attorney as he received an update on how Madison was holding up. They shook hands as Bud picked up a note pad and entered the precinct just in time to see a loud confrontation between a perp and an officer.

  Bud walked by and yelled, “Shut up, shithead!” There was total silence in the room as the cops stared at Bud and the young man arrested was shocked by the detective's remark.

  Bud put his fingerprint on the screen to enter into the Priority 1 area. When he got back to his desk, Lynagh, Healey, Franks, Chapman, and Dugan had just walked into Cronin's office for a briefing on the past week. He saw Cronin point his finger at him as well as Baker and Powers to come to his office. Once they were all in his office, Cronin informed them that things were pretty calm and it might be a good time to take some personal time before they were loaned out for other cases. Detective Baker spoke up and told Detective Cronin the story about Simmons and Madison at the jail.

  “OK,” Cronin replied. “I need to see schedules within the next forty-eight hours on vacation time.” As everyone left the room, Powers, Johnson, and Baker stayed behind to give Cronin specific info on what Simmons had told them.

  As Al Simmons' iPhone started playing classical music he was pleased to find Officer John Bay returning his call. They exchanged pleasantries, and finally the attorney came to his point and asked, “John, how would Madison Robinson find out how the girls are getting drugs from doctors by slipping them a few hundred here and there?”

  There was silence at the other end of the phone, and finally the correctional officer answered, “While Madison is kept separate for her own safety, she does have access to the church, the priest, the nun, and on very special occasions, if we have enough officers outside to protect her, we let her have access to other female inmates. She's a human being and we try to give her a chance to speak to others.”

  “No, don't misunderstand me, Officer,” Simmons replied. “I appreciate the treatment of Madison. I just wondered where she got the information.”

  John Bay spoke again. “Why would she care about this?”

  “Well,” Simmons replied, “that's Madison. She cares, sometimes too much, which is why she is there right now.”

  “I see,” Officer Bay answered. “Anything else I can do for you?”

  “No, no, thank you, Officer. Maddie is a good person in case you are wondering.”

  “I know,” came the reply. “And off the record, she is right about the doctors; they don't care about these girls, all they care about is the cash.”

  Before Simmons could reply, there was an end-call sound. He wanted to call back but thought better of it. He would stop and make it a point to see Detective Cronin tomorrow morning. He knew Powers and Johnson were going to speak with him but decided he would speak directly with him as well.

  SEPTEMBER 29

  The nightclub called the City was the place to be in Setauket. It was combination circular dance floor on the lower level with a balcony on the second level that would allow people to stand against the railings and look down at the gathering on the dance floor or move to semiprivate tables and booths in the thirty-five extra feet behind the railings. The decor on the walls was illuminated photos of Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, San Francisco, and New Orleans. There was even a private room for a $1,500 rental fee for the entire evening. Privacy when you wanted it, and party and dancing when you opened the door.

  Kate Summers was a regular at the City. She was beautiful, brunette, twenty-five years old, and kept count of all the men she had sex with at the club in the private room. Her goal was to live life to the fullest and snag a millionaire by the time she was thirty. Her schedule tonight was a blind date set up by one of her friends in the private room. She said good-bye to her girlfriends with the hand motion of her finger going in and out of her mouth slowly. Her friends, Linda and Jackie, just shook their heads and gave her a wave. The music was so loud that patrons either used sign language, hand signals, texts from their phone, or the old-fashioned way of putting your mouth directly on the ear of those with whom you were trying to communicate.

  Kate gave her name to security and checked to be sure the other name on the list for the room matched the name given to her from Linda and Jackie. The burley security guard bellowed the name Jake Wiley. With a smile to the guard and a friendly touch to his biceps, Kate started to walk to the room, but turned around and spoke to the guard again, saying, “You know, there is something very sexy about a man whose biceps are bigger than my thighs.” The guard flinched for a moment and asked if she wanted to be disturbed. She quickly answered,

  “Only if no one shows up, and then only by you.” She winked at him as she entered the room with a grin on her face, thinking how anxious the guard would be for the next few minutes.

  Inside the room, two sofas, a long black sectional, a coffee table with fruit, and a large flat-screen TV complemented the music system that included Bose speakers. Kate looked through the selections and dimmed the lights as a song from a group called Mystic Strangers started playing through the speakers. She closed her eyes as she moved her hands and body to the music. The young woman took her shoes off and unbuttoned her blouse, as the intense song was getting her aroused. She raised her hands in the air as the song lyrics said, “Never ask why, just be ready when it's time to die.” With her eyes closed and a sexy grin on her face, a pillowcase came over her head as she started screaming.

  The song and the pillowcase drowned out her voice as her body fell to the floor. The assailant put his hand over the pillowcase to speed up the process and finally punched the young woman in the stomach to weaken her fight. The young woman fought hard to resist but could not breathe. The assailant became more excited and aggressive as Kate raised her legs to try and fight him off, and the pain she was experiencing excited him. His hands pressed harder a
gainst the pillowcase as her hands reached for his hair. He could feel her desperation to stay alive, and it made him stronger to feel her lose life. Within a couple minutes it was over. Kate was placed on the sofa with her blouse half undone. Her body was positioned to make it look like she was sleeping. As she lay there, the killer moved in closer and kissed the dead woman's lips and then her forehead while leaving a folded piece of paper in her hand before walking away.

  After the murderer opened the door with his gloves, he would look for a chance to walk away when the guard was distracted. Two minutes seemed like forever, when finally the guard's cell phone vibrated with a text. As his eyes went down to the cell, the assailant put on a baseball hat. Inside the hat was cloth that he pulled out and it came down as a black mask. It covered his head completely except for the eyes and mouth. The club was so crowded no one paid attention to him. When he got outside he moved the fabric inside the hat as he walked into the darkness of the night.

  It was fifteen minutes later when the guard realized that no one had entered the room with the woman who found his biceps sexy. He walked in and smiled as he saw Kate Summers sleeping on the couch with those thin thighs. He turned the knob to lock the door, approached the couch, and noticed there was a piece of paper folded, lying in her hand. He picked it up and opened it, and it said in cut-out letters, If I can’t have you, no one will. Bruce Roberts, a strong, muscled man, looked at Kate Summers and feared the worst. He checked her pulse, then stepped back so fast in horror that his leg hit the coffee table and he fell on top of it as it smashed to the floor with the weight of his body. He was injured with glass cuts and going into shock as he reached into his pants and pushed 9-1-1. He passed out before he could say anything, but the operator began tracking his phone. Within ten minutes there were cops and medics at the scene treating the startled guard.