Jesse didn’t look at the opposition. He sat down and conferred with the two lawyers who accompanied him. Both were women, one black, and the other white.
“I thought King was a friend,” Patterson whispered to Marshall.
“No talking about anything personal,” said Marshall. All the mics in here are hot.
“Got it, “ said Patterson. “Sorry.”
They waited in silence for a while. The courtroom hummed with conversation and the sounds of camera equipment.
The arraignment was a simple procedure and in truth, Patterson could have skipped it. But he knew something about his people that women like Michelle Romano, didn’t. Black people, the inner city dwellers, idolized the Wrongfully Accused Man. It was a very logical mentality when you thought about it but most white people didn’t. They only thought about their own notions of guilt and tried to force everyone to adhere to it. But the stories of wrongfully incarcerated men were still told and retold within the black community. Black people distrusted government because it had been used so often to abuse them.
Black Detroit would see him as a defiant soldier in the cause of justice. How could they arrest a Mayor and drag him into court? Especially when he came from a good family, spoke well and wore such nice clothes. He would remind them of their sons, brothers and legends from the past. Patterson would stand nobly for the short time it took to do this and the image would be burned into their heads. And if they were called for jury duty, they would be that much more on his side.
The bailiff called the court to order and they all rose as the judge walked in. Judge George Namood was one of the first Arabic judges in the city. He had been a lifelong resident of Detroit and was a Patterson ally. Jesse King might have objected but the trial judge would be someone else.
“People versus The Honorable D’Andre Patterson,” said the bailiff. “Defendant is charged with felony perjury.” “Appearances?” said Namood.
“Jesse King for the People.”
“Marshall Jackson for the Mayor of Detroit.”
Jesse gave an irritated look at the use of the word Mayor instead of defendant.
“We are here for arraignment,” said Namood mechanically. “How does the defendant plead?”
Patterson stood. “Not guilty,” he said loudly.
Applause broke out in the crowd. Namood did not gavel, he just waited until it stopped.
“Okay,” said Namood. “As to the matter of bail, Mr. Prosecutor, what’s The People’s request?”
“The People ask for bail at ten thousand,” said Jesse casually.
“Mr. Jackson?” asked Namood who had already raised his gavel in anticipation of the answer.
“My client cannot meet the Prosecutor’s bail request,” said Marshall. “He will surrender to the Sheriff forthwith.”
There was a small beat of silence as the disbelief registered with the gallery and then there was a literal explosion of sound.
And now Namood gaveled wildly and demanded silence in the courtroom. The bailiff yelled and reporters ran for the doors to deliver messages to those camera crews waiting outside.
In the commotion, no one noticed that Marshall and Jesse had locked gazes across the room. The looked that passed between them was an old one, filled with their past resentment. Jesse remembered Marshall’s indictment of him in the press when he was on the run. Marshall saw Jesse holding and kissing his wife. They were at war.
“Excuse me,” said Namood when the din subsided. “Did I hear you right, Mr. Jackson?“
”Yes,” said Marshall. “We’ve heard the Prosecutor’s request and we will not contest bail. My client is ready for incarceration.”
“Your Honor,” said Jesse. “This is obviously a media stunt. Surely, the Mayor of Detroit can afford a low bail like this.“
“If the People want to withdraw the bail request, we are willing,” said Marshall.
Patterson tried to hide his smile. It was a clever trick. The court would have no choice but to arrest him and everyone in the city would see him treated like a common criminal. If Jesse changed the bail request, then the prosecutor would all but be admitting the Mayor was not a risk and perhaps innocent.
“Sidebar, Your Honor,” said Jesse.
“Are you serious, Mr. King?” said Namood.
“I’m afraid so,” said Jesse.
Marshall and Jesse walked up to the judge.
“All media microphones off,” said the bailiff.
Jesse and Marshall walked to the judge. They were both striking men. Marshall, the taller of the two, was particularly impressive-looking in an expensive suit.
“Your Honor,” said Marshall. “I don’t know why we’re talking.”
“Judge,” said Jesse. “This is clearly an attempt to make us all look bad. The Defendant can make bail.”
“If the man wants to go to jail, we will accommodate him. And no one can change that,” said the judge.
“Your Honor can override my request and release him,” said Jesse.
“I see,” said Namood. “You want me to help you save face with your boss.”
“Not at all,” said Jesse. “I want you to help us all save face and stop this case from becoming a joke.”
“Sorry Mr. King,” said Namood. “I send ordinary men to jail all the time because they can’t make bail. If I make an exception for this defendant, you tell me if I’m violating my oath.”
Marshall’s chuckle drew another nasty look from Jesse.
“Don’t think you’re slick, Mr. Jackson,” said Namood. “I’m sending him to jail, but not my nice lock up with the phone and the bathroom with walls. He’s going to county with the real criminals. He wants jail, I’m going to give it to him.”
And now it was Jesse’s turn to laugh. “That works for me,” he said.
“Your Honor,” said Marshall suddenly alarmed. “He’s a public official.”
“He’s a defendant who can’t pay his bail. And if you think I’m going to let you pay it minutes after he’s perped-walked out of here, you should know my backlog will take a day to get to.”
Marshall’s brow furrowed. He had obviously not seen this one coming. “Okay Your Honor, it’s your call.”
Marshall and Jesse went back to their respective tables. Marshall whispered something to Patterson.
Patterson was upset but this was the price you paid for boldness. He nodded to Marshall then whispered to Taisha whose face flushed visibly.
“Back on the record,” said Namood. “Mr. Prosecutor?”
“The People will not revoke its request,” said Jesse.
“Mr. Jackson?” asked Namood.
“We maintain our position, Your Honor.”
“So be it,” said Namood. “Bailiff will arrest the defendant. Prelim is set for three weeks from today.”
The courtroom gallery booed as Patterson happily surrendered to the Sheriff. He was handcuffed and walked out of the courtroom.
They had scored first in this fight, Patterson thought. He had friends in the county lock up and by noon, he’d be eating a gyro and returning phone calls with the guards.
Michelle Romano had better pray for some kind of win, he thought, because when this was over, there would be hell to pay.
Patterson smiled a little as the bailiff turned him to the exit at the side of the courtroom. He raised his handcuffed hand and the crowd cheered and applauded. His smile faded as he took one last look at the gallery.
In the back of the courtroom, mixed in with the excited crowd, Patterson saw Danny Cavanaugh watching him. It was the last thing he saw before the bailiff guided him through the door.
Danny saw Patterson make see him from across the courtroom. He wondered what the Mayor was thinking. He was going to jail voluntarily and Danny knew it was an appeal to the blacks in the city to be on his side. And the sad thing was, it would probably work.
Marshall’s stunt was beautiful. Then again, Danny knew Marshall would do something c
lever. Jesse King was good but his friend was brilliant.
Marshall hadn’t seen Danny as the former left the courtroom. Danny didn’t want Marshall to know he had attended the hearing. Danny also watched the Mayor’s family and his bosses, Tony Hill and Riddeaux leave as well. He saw the Mayor’s wife and mother walk out next. He knew their reputations. Two tough chicks, he thought absently.
When Danny was sure they were all gone, he slipped out of the building. There was still a massive crowd outside.
He moved past the reporters and others and walked to Clinton Street where police vehicles were double-parked. He made a call to Erik.
Danny filled Erik in on the hearing. Erik’s howl of laughter was so loud, Danny had to pull the phone away from his ear.
Erik was officially out of the house and had moved into a little apartment near downtown. Danny knew he was seeing a woman but he was waiting for Erik to tell him. His partner was in good spirits. No reason to mess with that.
Danny hung up the phone and walked toward the parking lot. As he approached, Danny saw a white man and a black woman having what looked to be an intense discussion. Danny recognized the pair and his mind raced at the connection.
Don Przybylski stood looking red-faced. Danny hadn’t even seen him in the courtroom with the Mayor’s people. His presence here was understandable. But what in the hell was he doing having an argument with Joyce Watson, the dead girl’s aunt?
24
HAIR
Danny and Erik walked the crime scene while the forensic guys worked around them.
They were planning how to track the dealer named Dumartin Kingston, a man everyone called Jangle, when Riddeaux gave them the call. The timing was bad but they had no choice but to go. Officially, they were not on a case, until now.
Kraven Green had been shot once in the back of the head. He was slumped over a table, his half eaten bologna sandwich and Faygo Redpop still on the table. There was no sign of a struggle. The only thing that was unusual was Green had two 55’ flat screens and the place was freezing cold.
It was a criminal house, Danny thought. Nice leather furniture, nothing on the walls, and expensive electronic equipment. If he looked in the fridge, there would be beer, fast food containers and little else. The bathroom would be grungy, the towels mismatched and in some closet, there would be a collection of pristine, high-end sneakers.
Danny knew why Riddeaux had given them the case. Even though she had gotten out of their way, someone was trying to keep them as busy as possible.
“We can move him now,” said Fiona to the morgue guys. “I like this killer,” she said to Danny. “He pumps up the air to keep the body fresh for us.”
“There are four window air conditioners in here,” said Danny. “The victim was keeping it cold for something else.”
“Question is what,” said Erik.
“He was into something perishable,” said Danny.
“A meat thief maybe,” said Fiona laughing.
“Boss?” said a forensic tech. “We got something under him here.”
They all walked over and looked. Under the corpse, was a blood-soaked hair extension. It was jet black and still had a tag tied to it.
“What in the hell is that?” said Fiona.
“Damn,” said Danny and Erik almost at the same time.
“Come on,” said Erik whipping out his cell phone. He and Danny headed for the door.
“Where you two going?” asked Fiona. “You solved this one already?”
“Yes,” said Danny. “Just now, we think.”
“We might know who did it but we gotta move fast,” said Erik.
“I’d love to hear how you solved a murder in twenty minutes,” said Fiona.
“You remember the crew of thieves who were stealing high-end weave pieces from around town?” asked Danny.
“Yeah,” said Fiona. “I’m still laughing about it.”
“Well, we ran into a strip club owner who buys from them,” said Erik. “If they killed this guy, then they are stocked.”
“Dammit,” said Danny. “Baker reached out to me a day ago, but I was too busy with other things, you know.”
“No sweat,” said Erik. “Let’s get to it.”
“Never heard this one before,” said Fiona. “Good luck.”
Danny and Erik quickly left the crime scene and headed to Apples. Danny called their intentions in to their boss and set up a team for apprehension at the strip club.
Erik was on the phone with Baker, the owner of Apples. Erik told him they were coming and he would have to reach out to the hair thieves. Baker readily agreed.
“I saw Przybylski, the Mayor’s aide, having an argument with the Rashindah Watson’s aunt at the courthouse,” Danny said when Erik was off the phone.
“What?” said Erik. “What the heck is that about?”
“Don’t know yet. They were kind of far away. Didn’t hear anything.”
There was silence as each of them assessed this information to the case, not the murder of Kraven Green but the case which they had never stopped investigating.
“You think the old lady killed her niece?”
“No, but maybe she knows the Mayor had something to do with it and Przybylski was sent to bribe her, shut her up.”
“You should pay her another visit.”
“I will. But after this case is done, I’m back on Jangle,” said Danny.
“I been meaning to talk to you about that,” said Erik. “If there’s some new player out there, how the hell can he keep track of an entire city?”
“As far we know it’s just the east side.”
“That’s still a lot of real estate.”
“Maybe it’s more than one guy,” said Danny. “I’m not sure but Salah contacted this kid and he seemed to think the kid knew how to get to iDT. Or maybe the kid is iDT.”
“This shit is making my head hurt,” said Erik.
“I know it’s a little out there,” said Danny, “but the pieces are at least clear. Someone killed Rashindah but let her friend go. The friend is tortured and killed by a dealer who might work for this iDT. I shoot him and there’s a rush to close the case. But I find the goods on the Mayor’s connection to the dead girl and all hell breaks loose. I track the death back to iDT and he’s warned that I’m coming. Then I see Patterson’s chief aide is connected to the dead girl’s aunt. No matter how I look at it, all roads lead back to the Mayor.”
“My head’s still hurting,” said Erik. “But I see your point. The man’s dirty somehow.”
“I just can’t believe it was some kind of lovers’ fight. This is a lot bigger.”
They arrived at Apples and were greeted by Baker, who told them that the thieves always met him out of his back office. There were two men who drove a dark van. Baker took them all to the room and they waited.
“Think your new girlfriend would like some of this stolen hair?” asked Danny in a low voice.
“Damn, it is that obvious I’m getting’ some again?” said Erik.
“To me it is,” said Danny. “So, who is she?”
“Young girl I met at church.”
“Church? You?” Danny laughed. “Get out of here.”
“Church is the best place to meet a woman. They’re looking, motivated and most of the men there are married or gay.”
“Vinny’s sisters say that all the time.”
“Well, we’re doing it but that’s all. She’s too young for me. I need a real woman.”
Danny didn’t say anything. He was happy for Erik and he had his hands full with his own life.
An hour and a half later, the hair thieves arrived. They drove up in a black van that was tricked out and had blacked-out windows.
Danny, Erik, and Baker watched the thieves approach. Erik signaled their uniformed back up to close in.
They’d agreed earlier that Baker would be arrested with the thieves so that there would be no retribution.
Danny was surprised to see Shera, the mouth
y girl who lived at Rashindah Watson’s place get out of the van. She was wearing a short skirt and a sheer top. She was with two black men. One was thin and snaky looking. He had long braids, which looked meticulous. He carried a big suitcase. The other was your standard muscle, huge and dumb looking.
“You didn’t tell us there was a girl,” said Danny.
“Never seen her before,” said Baker. “It’s usually just the other two.”
Shera walked close to the snaky man, signaling her link to him. She was obviously sleeping with that one, Danny thought. This explained her nice hair.
“Hey, isn’t that—“
“Yes,” said Danny. “The girl from the fire.”
Danny and Erik left the office and waited just outside the door.
“If anyone’s armed, it’s the big one,” said Danny. “He won’t come inside with the others.”
“Right,” said Erik. He gave this information to the other cops.
Inside the office, Shera and the snaky man entered. The big guy stayed outside watching the van and it’s precious cargo.
“Hey, hey,” said the snaky man. “We here. What you need?”
“Who the hell is this?” asked Baker, referring to Shera. “I don’t need witnesses, man.”
Danny was suddenly proud of Baker. He was calm and now he was eliciting information. Baker didn’t ask for the man’s name but Danny remembered that names had never been used before.
“My new woman,” said the snaky man. “She fine, huh? Show him that ass, baby.”
Shera laughed and turned, showing Baker her curves.
“Can I get a job here?” asked Shera.
“You’re gonna have to show me a lot more than that,” said Baker.
“Not that kinda party,” said the snaky man. “She’s all mine.”
Danny heard something loud fall as the snaky man put the suitcase on a desk and opened it.
“Nice,” Baker said. “I’ll take the usual and let me get some of that red hair, too.”
Citycide Page 18