The Fixer, Season 1

by Rex Carpenter

  JC wondered if Kowalski or Campbell were watching. Wondered if they were hoping that Meier would tear him apart with his bare hands.

  “The police said it was suicide,” Meier continued. “It was not. I have seen suicide. Daniel was not the type. He was excited about the future of our firm. He had just purchased a new car to replace the one your associate Joan had destroyed. He had just broken up with his girlfriend. He wasn’t sad about it. He broke up with her because she bored him. The man was excited about his life. He did not commit suicide.”

  Jacob stood up. Walked to the mirror. Looked at himself. Turned back to JC.

  “I am going to tell you something only seven people in the world know. Daniel’s mother, my wife, committed suicide. Pills. Same way the police say Daniel did. I covered it up. My boy was twelve years old. He had just lost his mother. I didn’t want him to suffer from the manner in which she left. If the police knew this, Daniel’s case would be dropped and written off. But I know my son did not kill himself.”

  “Why couldn’t you cover up this one as well?” JC asked. Not judging. Curious.

  “The world is a different place. At that time I was a powerful local attorney. I had the connections for it. Now, my connections are global. I have expanded my reach far beyond Los Angeles. Which means my influence here has waned. It would not have worked, so I didn’t try.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t me? You know what I do. Why do you think it was someone else?”

  Jacob started walking around the room.

  “I spoke with the senator. I also spoke with the chief of police here in Beverly Hills. I checked on your story. The police will take weeks, but it took me a few hours. You claim to have been out of the country. Visiting an old friend of yours, a Mr. Lee in Korea. Son of the owner of one of the largest conglomerates in Asia. I called him.”

  JC tried to hide the surprise on his face. Unsuccessfully.

  “The father, not the son,” Meier continued. “We golf together when he is in town. He said you were there. Left when you claim you did. His aides watched you closely. It seems Mr. Lee Senior does not have a very high opinion of you.”

  JC nodded. Hint of a smile. “He never did.”

  “Your name, occupation and residence triggered a memory. So I called an old friend of mine in Boston this morning. My roommate when I was an undergrad at Harvard. Arthur Phillips. I asked him if he knew the name JC Bannister. He was very quiet. Said he did. I told him my son was dead and that you were the prime suspect. Artie told me, with great force and surety, there was no possible way that you would have done that. Told me he was your banker and the idea of you doing such a thing violated everything he knew about you. I thanked him. Hung up the phone. Then I started thinking.”

  Jacob sat on the corner of the table closest to JC. Looked down at him. “Why would a man like Artie Phillips be your banker? His clients are multinational corporations. Royalty. The elite. Hell, even a few countries. Why would he be the banker for a man who runs an almost unknown security consultancy? Then I connected the dots. About six years ago, Artie’s grandson was kidnapped. Then returned. He never told me the details. The only way a man who operates at the highest levels of power, where corporations and governments intersect, the only way he would be your banker is if he owed you somehow. And the only way such a man would vouch for you in the way Artie did is if he felt you were of the highest caliber. Beyond reproach. If he had intimate knowledge of your skills, abilities and character.”

  Jacob paused.

  “If you helped him fix a problem.”

  JC said nothing. Committed to nothing. Waited.

  “My son did not commit suicide,” Meier said. “Despite what Kowalski and Campbell say.” Paused. “He was murdered.” You were not the killer.”

  Jacob stopped. Returned to his chair. Leaned forward, his elbows on the table. Hands clasped.

  “I have a problem, Bannister. I understand you’re a fixer. A solutionist, Daniel said. I need you to find out who killed my son.”

  Chapter 25

  In Any Language

  “No.”

  Meier raised his eyebrows. Leaned back. “No?”

  JC shook his head. “You are correct. I am a solutionist. I fix problems. But there is no way you will be satisfied with any work I could do for you.”

  “Explain.” Halfway between request and command.

  “We agree on a price. I round up some prick, some loser I’ve got a beef with. Hell, some drunk off the street. Bring him to you, trump up some evidence, say he’s the guy. You’d never know. And the not knowing would slowly eat away at you. Until nothing was left.”

  “Two problems with that.”

  “Explain.” JC’s use of the word was all command.

  “One. I am a lawyer. My life has been spent in front of juries who don’t believe me, trying to convince them that my version of events is the correct version. Listening to clients who try to lie to me about how badly they’ve messed up. Convincing judges these same screw-ups deserve another chance. I live, breathe and swim in pools of bullshit so deep they are unimaginable to the average man.” Meier leaned in, face hard. “I know when a man is lying. Forty years that’s been my job. And I am extraordinarily good at it.”

  JC was a little impressed by his hard sell. “Okay. What’s the second problem with my refusal?”

  “I’m not going to pay you anything.”

  JC crossed his arms. Leaned back. “Really?”

  “You heard me. The correct phrase you’re looking for is ‘Why not?’“

  “I’ll bite. Why not?”

  “You find the man who killed my son. Prove to me he is the one who is responsible. And then you kill him. Bring me incontrovertible proof he is dead. Do that and I will be your lawyer.”

  JC’s eyes narrowed.

  “Forever.” Jacob leaned back, arms crossed like JC’s. “You will never need to worry about legal representation for your entire life. No matter the crime, the situation, the country, I will represent you. If I cannot for whatever reason, I will assemble the absolute finest legal team available to do so. A perpetual get-out-of-jail-free card, if you will.”

  It’s an impressive offer, JC thought. Phillips’ banking acumen had become invaluable to his operations. Having a lawyer such as Jacob Meier owing him a lifetime of favors would be an amazing coup. Only problem JC could see was the obvious one — finding Daniel’s killer.

  “And if I can’t find the people responsible?”

  “Then our working relationship is finished. You’ll need to find another lawyer.”

  “Sounds like a sweet deal.”

  Jacob slowly nodded his head. “It is.”

  JC knew he was going to track down the person who was trying to set him up. Probably kill the bastard. JC had a pretty good hunch that was the same person who had murdered Daniel Meier.

  “Okay.”

  “Good.”

  “What’s the first step?” JC asked, indicating the police interview room they were in. “Campbell seems hell bent on making me take the fall for your son’s death.”

  Jacob smiled. The first time since he had gone to bed the night before. “Simple. We stand up. Walk out that door. Campbell is old school. A dinosaur. The kind of hack cop who gave L.A. a bad name fifty years ago. Before his time, but he comes from the same corrupt mold. All bluster with no backbone.” Meier stood. “Follow me.”

  *****

  Detective Garcia opened the door after Meier knocked on it.

  “My client is leaving, detective.”

  “I don’t think so, Mr. Meier,” Garcia said.

  “If this was anything more than a fishing expedition, he would have been booked. So we’re leaving.”

  Garcia didn’t protest. Stood aside.

  Meier walked down the hall. JC didn’t move. “Karen,” he said “Where’s Duke?”

  Garcia smiled. “Next door. Talking to Campbell.” She chuckled. “You want to see?”

  Detective Garcia led t
hem to an observation room located between the two interview rooms. They could see through the one-way mirrored glass on both sides. Recording equipment was installed in a rack on either side, below the glass. JC’s now empty room was on the left. On the right was Duke. Campbell was sitting at the metal desk, furiously writing on a pad of paper. Duke was walking around the back of the room. Speaking. Moving his arms. Acting. Occasionally he would look up at the mirror, wink, and then continue.

  “Wanna hear?” Karen said.

  JC nodded. He knew Meier had just lost his son, but he saw no better way for him to get to know who else was on the team. Besides. If Meier was providing legal assistance to JC, he damn well was going to provide it for the entire team.

  Garcia pushed a button. Duke’s voice came over the intercom.

  “Back when I was picking beans in Guatemala, we used to make great coffee. Fresh off the vine. But hey, it’s L.A., what can you really expect.”

  Bannister groaned. Garcia laughed. “He’s been at this for twenty minutes. Non-stop. Ever since Campbell came back in. I didn’t have the heart to stop him. Or to tell Campbell what he was doing.”

  “You know what he’s doing?”

  “Right now? Of course,” Garcia scoffed. “Usual Suspects. One of my favorite movies. Campbell, well, he likes to read a lot. Sports. Stuff like that.”

  “Duke loves that movie. He can pretty much recite it. Word for word. The whole thing. Even the Hungarian parts.”

  “He speaks Hungarian?”

  “Hungarian, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Italian. The guy speaks dozens of languages.”

  “Really?” Garcia was visibly impressed. “Smart and handsome.”

  “Hold on. I thought you had the hots for me?” JC said.

  Garcia looked him up and down. “Sorry, buddy. You’re too short.” Turned back. Listened to Duke start the most famous part of the movie.

  “He was supposed to be Turkish,” Duke said. “Some say his father was German. Nobody ever believed he was real. Nobody ever knew him or saw anybody that ever worked directly for him. But to hear Kobayashi tell it, anybody could have worked for Soze. You never knew. That was his power.” Paused. Smiled. Wagged his finger. “The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convinc—”

  “Duke. It’s time to go.” JC cut him off over the intercom. Garcia had pushed the “Speak” button for him.

  Campbell jumped up. Enraged. Duke threw up his hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me, man? You cut me off now? At the best damn part?”

  Meier was amused but clearly not as much as JC or Garcia. Campbell burst from the interrogation room. Ready to jump down the throat of somebody. He found JC.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Turned to Garcia. “What the hell is he doing? Why is he being released?”

  Garcia opened her mouth to explain but Meier stepped in. “Because you’ve got no probable cause. You’ve got an anonymous tip about an eyewitness that likely doesn’t even exist. I will be representing Mr. Bannister and Mr. Ellsworth as well as any of their associates. And the next time you decide to pick them up you’d better have something solid, and I mean rock solid. You don’t, then I’m going to enjoy tearing your life into tiny little pieces.”

  Campbell opened his mouth then closed it. Meier wasn’t finished. He stepped forward.

  “Tell me something, Campbell. Why is it I could determine these men were innocent of this crime with ten minutes worth of phone calls, but you have wasted hours trying to pin it on them?” Paused. “Why are you so dead-set on making them the killers? Can’t you do a better job than this? Can’t you find the man who murdered my son?”

  Campbell was apoplectic with rage. But he could say nothing in rebuttal. Meier walked away. Campbell didn’t take a step, but his eyes were pinned on the back of Jacob’s head. Trying to burn a hole into Jacob’s skull with his eyes.

  Garcia gave her card to Duke. “If you have any questions or if you can think of something that pertains to the investigation, give me a call.” Duke took the card. “In any language.” She smiled.

  Duke nodded. Looked at the card. Put it in his pocket. Winked at Garcia.

  JC put his arm around the taller, younger man's shoulders. Started walking with him. Away from the still smoldering Garcia. “Let’s go find Joan and Theo. Verbal.”

  “Did you see me in there? It was dream come true, man. I love L.A.!”

  Chapter 26

  It’s Forgotten

  JC assembled his team at the Beverly Wilshire. It was early evening and they needed to coordinate with Kowalski about the change in plans for Senator Marcus. Although JC had tried to dissuade him, Jacob Meier had insisted on coming along. Nothing JC had said could convince him otherwise, so he stopped trying. Theo was with them as well. JC had decided after the car chase that Theo should be a full partner. Although he hadn’t explained the details of the assignment, JC realized there would be no better way to get him up to speed than the meeting they were walking into. Besides, JC wanted him to wear the camera. It was time to get some proof down that JC and his team didn’t create this plan on their own.

  JC knocked on the door to Kowalski’s room on the twelfth floor. There was a long wait. Just as he was ready to knock again, Kowalski opened it. JC took a step forward. Kowalski raised his left hand as a stop sign, and then held out his right to someone in the room. Senator Marcus appeared, and then exited the room.

  “Thank you, Guy. I’ll be in my suite.” Two agents followed her out. She looked at JC but said nothing. He was silent as well.

  Kowalski walked into the room. Left the door open. JC took a step forward to follow.

  “James,” Mrs. Marcus said softly.

  JC stopped. Turned. Indicated for the others to go in. Closed the door behind them. The senator told her two agents to wait for her at the end of the hall. The senator walked to the other end of the hallway. Sat on a sofa near the elevators. JC followed. Sat next to her.

  “James. I’m sorry. For earlier.”

  JC didn’t respond.

  “Meier’s death hit me harder than I thought it would. Considering. You caught me at a difficult time and I’m afraid I didn’t act in the most dignified manner.”

  JC nodded. Non-committal.

  “My plans have not changed from what I said. I feel it is the best course of action. Your fee has been delivered as requested. I want to thank you again. If I do not see you again, I want you to know I appreciate what you are doing for me. I appreciate your discretion.”

  She paused. JC waited.

  “And, I… I appreciate the fact that it will be you. Not some stranger. I know it may sound odd. But I’m glad it will be someone I know and trust. To help me through this.”

  JC stared at her. Her eyes started to swim. A tear rolled down each cheek. She dabbed them away. He melted a bit.

  “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”

  She smiled sadly. Shrugged. “It is not the road I would have chosen for myself. But it is what it is. And I must do what I have done for the past twenty years: work to make the country better. I hope you can understand.”

  JC nodded. “I can’t say I would choose the same path. But I do understand, Catherine.”

  She smiled. “Nice to hear someone use my name these days. I’ve been spending so much time trying to get things in order I haven’t spent much time with friends. Everyone calls me ‘Senator’ or ‘Mrs. Marcus.’ It almost feels like I’ve forgotten my own name.”

  JC smiled with her.

  “I know you don’t like to work with Guy,” she continued, “but I hope you can understand why I don’t really want to be part of the planning. Seems a bit, well, macabre, if you know what I mean?”

  “I’m sorry, Senator, but I just don’t trust the man.”

  “But I do,” she said. “Which means you’ll need to. He’ll give you all the details of what needs to happen in the meeting.”

  Senator Marcus stood to leave. JC stood as well. They shook hands.


  “Thank you again, James. I am sorry for before.”

  JC let go of her hand. Gave her a hug. “It’s forgotten, Catherine.”

  She smiled. Released him from the hug. Walked away.

  JC didn’t move. Watched her walk away. The two Secret Service agents joined her. They waited for the elevators. The doors opened, they went in and then disappeared as the doors closed. JC sighed, the weight of his assignment heavy on his shoulders.

  He walked back to Kowalski’s room. Opened the door.

  Chapter 27

  Straight Through

  The meeting had started off about as well as JC had expected. Which meant it went from bad to worse quickly.

  The General was there. JC had forgotten he was coming. He was surprised by his place at the table but realized the old man could be useful.

  Duke was thrown off balance by The General’s presence. He was skittish and nervous which irritated both JC and Joan. JC threw him more than a few looks to get him to calm down. It seemed like it was working.

  The biggest problem had been Kowalski. Despite the senator’s requests, JC was having a difficult time listening to and taking orders from him. His plan was not a bad one. They were supposed to go to Nevada, infiltrate a compound run by “right-wing nutjobs,” as Kowalski called them, steal some weapons and computers and then get out. That was the simple part. Soon after, the wheels came off the wagon.

  “JC’s got a point,” The General said. “Do you have any intelligence that indicates this group has the capability or the motivation to assassinate the senator?”

  “Listen,” Kowalski responded, “it’s not a court of law. It’s the court of public opinion. If the senator is dead and we can realistically point the finger at someone who looks like they might have done it, the problem goes away. This guy Franklin Adams and his group the Sons of Liberty are tailor made for our situation. They’re more renegade bikers than patriots. They cook up meth and sell it to kids. Buy and sell little Mexican boys to perverts. They’re trying to cut a deal on a cargo container full of Vietnamese girls. They’re paranoid, have spent the better part of fifteen years digging tunnels all around the property. They’re buying truckloads of guns from corrupt Mexican army units, trying to make contact with Al Qaeda to bring them across the border and waltz them right into the heartland. These are not some bunch of innocents, guys. They’re heavy hitters. They need to be taken out. We can take care of two birds with one stone here.”