Trading Places

by Fern Michaels

  “If it’s my decision, then we’re staying here. Maybe someday we’ll be able to go back and make things right. Now isn’t the right time. Chalk it up to cop instinct, okay.”

  It was the seventh day of the trial, with the defense calling witness after witness. To a man they said the same thing. To a man they said they were staunch defenders of the law. To a man they said there was something not quite right about Tom Madsen, Agnes Jade, and her killer dog. To a man they extolled each other’s hardworking credo, sincerity, and dedication to making the city of Atlanta a safe place for its citizens. To a man they said they would file suit against the Atlanta PD if they weren’t reinstated with back pay and benefits paid in full. To a man they said there was no such thing as the blue wall of silence. It didn’t matter that they sounded rehearsed, defiant, and even cocky. The words were loud and clear for the jury to hear.

  Saul Baumgarten was rounder than a pumpkin. He had sharp blue eyes and an even sharper tongue. He sidled up to Nathan, and said, “Hawk, go outside, court’s about to adjourn. The guy from CNN is waiting to interview you. Take Dr. Rossiter with you. Good luck, buddy.”

  “Thanks. I owe you one. By the way, can you be a little less kind to those devils when you write your column tonight? You know what they say about the Devil. It’s evil with a capital D.”

  Baumgarten grinned. “Nathan, I’ve been writing blistering columns since this whole thing started. The chief blue-pencils every single one. There’s nothing else I can do.”

  “Keep doing it. I swear, if those bastards get reinstated, I’m moving out of Atlanta. If they’re our finest, we’re in the tall grass. You need to put that in your column, too.”

  “Consider it done, buddy. Beat it now before court shuts down and they snag someone else for the interview.”

  Nathan and Alex walked down the steps to where a young man holding a microphone waited. Make it good, Baumgarten had said. Nathan felt tongue-tied suddenly. It looked like Alex was faring no better than he was.

  They introduced themselves and looked straight into the camera.

  “We’ll start with you, Dr. Rossiter. How do you think the trial is going? Mr. Maris said he plans to wrap up the defense first thing in the morning. Any thoughts on that?”

  “I have quite a few thoughts on the trial. Unfortunately, they are not fit for television news. I don’t like what I’ve seen and heard inside that courtroom. If anyone has been set up, it’s Detective Jade. I’ve known her for a good many years. She’s a dedicated police officer. I see no good reason for those men on trial to malign her to save their own skins. They’re trying to shift attention from themselves, and Detective Jade is their scapegoat.”

  “If what you say is true, Dr. Rossiter, why did Detective Jade cut and run?”

  “Think about what you just asked me. Would you want that pack of jackals in there coming after you once you blew the whistle? There is a blue wall, and we both know it. She ran because she feared for her life.”

  The microphone was suddenly close to Nathan’s face. He looked straight into the camera. “I’m Nathan Hawk, and I work for the Journal-Constitution. I agree totally with Dr. Rossiter. I’m going to take it one step further. If those police officers inside the courthouse, the ones on trial, walk away from this, I’m leaving Atlanta. I no longer feel safe living in this city.”

  “And that, ladies and gentlemen, are the views from two of Atlanta’s upstanding citizens. What’s this I’m hearing?” the interviewer said, moving quickly away from Nathan and Alex.

  Nathan and Alex both turned at the excitement they heard in the reporter’s voice.

  They looked at each other expectantly, wondering what was up. They moved over to the side when the crush of spectators and reporters exited the courthouse. This time it was the prosecutor the newsmen headed toward, not Socrates Maris, who stood scowling on the side of the courthouse with his clients. For the first time since the start of the trial, he and his clients were not the center of the media attention. It was obvious that the lawyer and his clients didn’t like the unexpected turn of events.

  “Hey, the guy looks like he sprouted a set of brass balls all of a sudden,” Alex whispered, pointing to the prosecutor. “He looks confident, too. Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Nathan?”

  Nathan rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Maybe he found a smoking gun. What else could make him look like that. Shhh, what’s he saying?”

  “You’ll have to wait till tomorrow. Mystery witnesses are the best witnesses, that’s why they’re called mystery witnesses. Smoking gun? I’ll let you decide tomorrow. That’s all I have to say, gentlemen. Perhaps Mr. Maris, who, of course, had to be informed of the new witness’s identity, will answer your questions. Have a nice evening,” the prosecutor said, tripping lightly down the steps to the sidewalk.

  “Well, well, well,” Nathan said happily. “Maybe we are going to get a smoking gun after all. I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight. How about you, Alex? Before I forget, don’t you think it’s a little strange that no mention was made of those two packets of money I sent back to the police? We were going to use the money to pay off Aggie’s snitch, Pippy, but then things started happening so fast, we never did get to talk to him.”

  Alex shrugged. “Aggie said the whole department was on the take. Maybe that means the money never got to where it was supposed to go. But you sent it back, so it isn’t your problem.”

  “No, I am not going to be able to sleep either. Want to help me wallpaper the upstairs bathroom? Free beer, and I’ll even spring for a pizza.”

  They were good friends these days, meeting up once or twice a week to have dinner or just to pound a few beers and talk about their lost loves. In the beginning, it was a way to talk about Aggie and Lizzie, but as Nathan started helping Alex with his renovations, the two developed a real bond of mutual respect and friendship.

  “I’m your man. I have to go back to the office first, though. I’m going to see if any of the troops have an in with the prosecutor. Maybe we can get some kind of a heads up. Maris isn’t talking. Seven okay?”

  “Seven’s fine.”

  “Good, I’ll see you then. Don’t start without me. Believe it or not, I know how to wallpaper. I used to help my dad. I even know how to match seams. Whatever you do, don’t start cutting the paper till I get there. By the way, if Aggie saw you, I can guarantee you she’s in tears.”

  “Yeah. For all the good it’s going to do me. You did okay yourself, Nathan.”

  Nathan waved as he walked off. The officers on trial and Socrates Maris watched him, speculative expressions on their faces. He turned around once, a wicked grin on his face. His middle finger shot upward in a single-digit salute. “Every dog gets his day, you assholes,” he muttered.

  “Lizzie, Lizzie! Wake up! Lizzieeee!”

  Lizzie bolted upright. “What? Her sleep-filled gaze went to the television set. Her heart pounding in her chest, she slipped off the couch and crawled over to where Aggie was sitting in front of the set. “It’s them! It’s really them.” Lizzie’s voice cracked with emotion. “Oh, he lost weight. Look how tired he looks. Look! Look! He’s looking right at me.”

  “Shut up, Lizzie. I’m trying to hear what Alex is saying. Oh, God, he looks so good. I could just cry. He lost weight, too. He looks just as tired as Nathan. How sweet. Listen to the way he’s defending me. That’s love. That’s really love.” Aggie’s voice was ecstatic.

  Lizzie hugged her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks. How dear he looked. How wonderful. She moved closer to her sister. They huddled together, crying unashamedly.

  “Shhh, listen,” Aggie said. When the camera moved closer to the prosecutor, they could still see Nathan and Alex on the fringe of people clustered around the television reporter. “It’s snowing there.”

  “Did you hear that? A mystery witness! Who, Aggie? My God, who? Think! Think hard, Aggie. Who would cut a deal and turn state’s evidence?”

  “None of them. The fix was in.
You’ve heard the same thing I’ve been hearing. There would be no need for one of them to squeal. It’s got to be someone else. I don’t have a clue, Lizzie. Whoever he or she is, they better be damn good because Maris will chew them up and spit them out all in one breath. On the flip side of that, maybe it was just something the DA said to get a rise out of Maris. Oh, God, Lizzie, I am so homesick.”

  They clung to one another, sobbing their hearts out. For the would haves, the could haves, the should haves.

  “What I have here, Alex, is better than gold. Better than the new sled you got Christmas morning when you were a kid. Better even than your first kiss. You, Dr. Alex Rossiter, are going to be in my debt forever.”

  “I had thirty minutes of sleep, and you want to play guessing games. Hell, I haven’t even had my coffee yet. What, Nathan?”

  “The crown jewels! Two passes to court this morning! Bum came through and weaseled them somehow. I didn’t ask questions. No seats, standing room only, but who cares.”

  “Not me, that’s for sure! Make some coffee, Nathan. I still have to shower and shave. In my newly wallpapered bathroom. I can be in and out in fifteen minutes. There are some English muffins in the fridge if you’re hungry. We have time. Man, I am psyched.”

  “Okay.”

  Nathan rolled his neck to loosen the tension in his shoulders. He was wearing a suit, white dress shirt, and a tie. He wasn’t sure why. He was stunned fifteen minutes later when Alex appeared, also wearing a suit, shirt, and tie.

  “I took my cue from you. Figured we were getting dressed up for a reason. My mother always said look your best when you’re preparing to go to battle. I feel like this is my own personal battle.”

  “Drink that coffee fast, Alex. There’s going to be a lot of traffic this morning. By the way, in case you didn’t look outside, it’s snowing, and it’s sticking on the ground.”

  “No kidding. Damn, maybe it will wash everything clean. Anew day. Justice is served. The good guys win. That kind of thing.” Alex gulped at the coffee in his cup. He was finished in seconds. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Nathan turned the coffeepot off, then took a last swig from his cup. “This could all be one giant let down. I’ve always been an optimist, but this whole thing has turned me into a pessimist. My fingers are crossed. I don’t know what either one of us is going to do if this goes awry. I am personally not prepared for defeat. What about you?”

  “Never heard the word before,” Alex said, locking the door behind him. “It really is snowing.” Nathan just rolled his eyes.

  They reached the courthouse, parked, and made it through the metal detectors with three minutes to spare. Both men were breathing hard when they took their places against the back wall.

  The courtroom was packed. Nathan flinched when he heard the locks snap into place. Two deputies took up their positions on either side of the door. If Lizzie were there, she would have said she could smell the testosterone.

  “All rise! The Honorable Stanley Eberhart presiding,” the clerk of the court said loudly.

  The shuffling, the throat clearing, the chairs scraping back sounded like thunder in Nathan’s ears.

  The judge banged his gavel. He looked down at the laptop sitting on his desk. His fingers moved, then he looked out at the crowded room. “The defense informed this court yesterday that they were going to rest their case this morning. Is that still your intention, Counselor? If so, the prosecution has one last witness. I’ll allow two hours for cross examination, then another three hours for closing arguments. Don’t even think about using up any more of the court’s time. Are you resting, Mr. Maris?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, the defense rests.”

  “Mr. Minelli, call your last witness.”

  Nathan looked around the crowded courtroom. The officers on trial looked fearful. Maris looked beaten. It was almost as if he knew his platinum record was about to be broken. A giant swooshing sound echoed around the room, everyone sucking in their breath in anticipation of the mystery witness about to take the stand.

  The prosecutor looked at the deputies at the back of the room. He nodded. He turned to the judge, and said, “I call to the stand,”—he turned to look at Maris and the defendants—” Detective Zachary Miller!”

  Nathan thought he was going to pass out. Alex gripped his arm so tight he knew he was going to have bruises for a week. In his life he’d never heard such silence. He craned his neck to stare at the defendants’ expressions. They weren’t pretty.

  Two federal marshals escorted Detective Miller to the stand and moved off to the side, their hands placed loosely on their sidearms.

  The court clerk stepped forward, the Bible in her hand. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  “I do.”

  “State your name for the record.”

  “Zachary John Miller. I’m a retired detective on the Atlanta Police Department.”

  “Please be seated.”

  “Detective Miller, did you come forward voluntarily?”

  “Yes, sir, I did. I called your offices yesterday and asked if I could testify for the prosecution.”

  “I’m not going to ask you any questions, Mr. Miller. Just tell your story to the court. Mr. Maris can ask the questions when you’re finished.”

  Zack Miller looked out across the room, his gaze finally coming to rest on Dutch Davis.

  “I came here today for three reasons. My wife died six months ago. She made me promise to do the right thing. I spent those six months grieving and trying to figure out how to go about doing the right thing. I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer two months ago. That diagnosis alone made it imperative that I come here. The third reason is, I will not allow my fellow officers to ruin the life and career of Detective Jade.”

  “Easy, big guy,” Nathan said to Alex, who looked like he was going to pass out. “Easy does it. That tall grass is flattening out right in front of us.”

  “It all started ten years ago. It was small stuff in the beginning. Most of us just looked the other way. As the operation got bigger and bigger, the temptation to take money for looking the other way became greater. Speaking strictly for myself, what turned me was my wife’s medical bills. I was drowning in debt. I’d lost two children, my wife needed constant medical help, round-the-clock nurses. I never used a penny of the money they paid me except for the medical bills. I turned over the rest to the district attorney yesterday, along with the dates, the amounts of money, and who those amounts were paid to, mainly doctors, nurses, and hospitals.

  “They are the officers in my old outfit. Dutch Davis and Joe Sonders were the leaders. If an officer made noises like he didn’t want to go along with it, he had an accident, or his family was threatened. Detective Tom Madsen had a blowup with Dutch in the squad room one morning. Tom knew what was going on, but, he kept quiet and looked the other way. Then a big bust went down, only all the drugs disappeared. There were 210 three-pound bags of pure, uncut cocaine.

  “That’s when I put in for early retirement. Tom started acting strange. The guys said he was a wild card and couldn’t be trusted. No one knew if he confided in Detective Jade or not.

  “That night, the night Tom was killed, he and Detective Jade were on their own time. Tom scheduled a meeting with one of the guys who was supposed to buy those 210 bags of cocaine. Tom was flying blind. I know that because Dutch Davis was howling about how they couldn’t let that happen, prior to that night. Tom and Jade’s snitch, a guy named Pippy, turned them on to the deal, and how it was going to go down. Davis, Sonders, and some of their cronies ambushed them. Detective Jade and the dog were supposed to die, too. As you know, they were hit with automatic weapons’ fire. Thank God Jade and the dog didn’t die. I didn’t find out about it till the next day. I had been called out of work earlier in the day because my wife was taken to the hospital. The gang had hidden the drugs inside the seats of Madsen’s and Jade’s cars. Then after that night, when the ca
rs were taken to the impound lot, they couldn’t afford to take the drugs out.”

  The judge leaned forward to stare at the witness. “Detective, would you like to have me call a recess? Would you like a glass of water?”