Crime & Counterpoint

by Daniel, M. S.

  “As long as the court accepts my evidence.” Carter smirked mirthlessly.

  “But so what? Without proof of his criminal activities, the most he’ll get is a fine and deportation.”

  Carter shook his head. “I started looking into death records from the same time frame in the tristate area. People like Wheeler with no living relatives. I found a number of cases where the citizenship and social numbers of the deceased individual were still active under a different name. And get this: they’re all known associates of the Brother’s Circle.” Carter grinned, gratified. “You and your crazy ass ideas. Can’t believe you’d pegged Cervenka from the start.”

  But Zach didn’t even exhibit an inch of satisfaction. “You came all the way down here on a Sunday to tell me this? Don’t you think should be focusing on other things. Like, maybe your fiancée?”

  “Why? Because she embarrassed herself in front of daddy?” Carter returned with annoyance.

  Zach set the metal bar down and pulled himself up to sitting, breathing hard. He slanted his blue eyes to Carter for a split second and then dropped them to the ground. “Do you even know where she is?”

  Carter’s eyes changed shades. “What do you mean where?”

  “You’re welcome to get her anytime,” Zach said bitterly. “The sooner the better. And she needs clothes.”

  “Clothes? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Come on. Didn’t Rick tell you? Vienna showed up at the club with Kazanov. They marked Shelley from the reception and went after her. Chased her down into the subway.”

  Carter’s face paled, thoughts dancing across the lenses of his eyes.

  “She fell into the tracks. Ruined her dress.” Zach looked away, reliving her pain. “You know what? I’m sick of all this. Just marry her and get her the hell away from me. I can’t protect her anymore.”

  Carter’s chest swelled. “Who asked you to in the first place?”

  Zach shook his head ruefully. “You should have a talk with your future father-in-law.”

  Carter was sullen and speechless for a moment. “Wait a minute. That subway shooter? That wasn’t you, was it?”

  Zach wouldn’t meet Carter’s gaze. “I just need you to get her out of my apartment.”

  Carter looked at him closely, suspicious. “Anything else I should know?”

  Zach stilled and turned cold eyes to the attorney. “Isn’t that enough?”

  Full of swirling postulation, Zach returned to his apartment later that morning. But he stopped halfway into the bright living room – someone had drawn the blinds – as the unmistakable aroma of French toast infiltrated his senses. His stomach cramped, remembering he hadn’t eaten today.

  He backtracked, curiosity and ravenous hunger eclipsing all else, and came upon Shelley in his kitchen.

  She was still here. Zach ground his teeth. Carter.

  She looked his way, and a sweet, sunkissed smile shone on her lips, reaching all the way to her large brown eyes.

  He stopped breathing for a split second.

  “Good morning,” she greeted. “I didn’t know if you were coming back, but I thought I’d make you something.”

  Briefly, he frowned. She cooked breakfast?

  “And I don’t know if I thanked you for yesterday.”

  “I was only doing my job,” he said coldly.

  Her smile faded, a wounded look shadowing her limpid orbs. “I know that.” She turned back to the stove. “But I want you to know I’m very… grateful.” She swallowed. “For everything.” Without looking at him, she continued, regaining some strength in her voice. “And you’re right. Today, I do feel better.” She scooped out the last of the French toast from the pan and dropped it onto a steaming heap.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to say something halfway congenial, but he didn’t.

  She prepared him a plate, every movement as natural as when she performed on stage. She set four pieces of toast, all the scrambled eggs, and fried potatoes on the ceramic plate and then asked, “Where do you eat?”

  “On the couch,” he replied. “When I’m here.”

  She came around the kitchen counter, and that’s when he saw she was only wearing his T-shirt. No pants. Though her thighs were almost half-covered, the way she looked made his core tighten and burn.

  She walked the plate and a fork over to the coffee table. Whirling around, she said, “Would you like coffee?”

  “No, I’ll get it,” he was quick to dismiss, taking a sudden interest in the parquet and finding kinks in the back of his neck that needed immediate attention. “Carter will be over soon with clothes for you. He’ll take you back.”

  Her quiet acquiescence was all he heard before she disappeared into his room. He exhaled, not realizing he’d been holding his breath. He skipped the coffee and went straight for a beer, trying not to think about her copper-toned legs, her naked in his shower, or the smile she’d just given him. Instead, he focused on the food, which started out delicious and then turned to sawdust in his mouth as a wealth of other emotions began to erode the iron walls around his conscience.

  Making up his mind, he took out his wallet and dug through it for the tiny SD card. The key to his precarious freedom.

  He dialed Special Agent Joe Bennet – his one-speed, fast track to certain damnation. And indirect liberation. He didn’t want this responsibility anymore. He didn’t want to be anywhere but–

  “Ericson, what a surprise,” Joe said, ostentatious despite his Jersey speech. “Thought I’d have to hunt down your–”

  “Meet me in half an hour at Ramone’s Steakhouse.” Zach studied the little demon in his palm. “I’ve got something to show you.”

  If he went to jail, so be it.

  51

  “Well, it’s official,” James said, striding into his father’s illustrious office with slate-grey dimensional ceilings, teal accented walls, panoramic city views, and concealed lighting. Power-tripping, soul-defying, awe-demanding. A fitting work space for the Shark King. “Carter’s ready to throw himself off the Triborough. He’s called six times already wanting an audience with you.”

  Henri didn’t look up from his desk nor did his features hint at the numerous processes constantly threading through his well-formed mind. “For what? Did Ron sign the confession?”

  James eyed an empty wing-backed leather chair like he desperately wanted to sink into it, but he remained standing and satisfied himself with undoing his tie. “Yes. He did. And so did David. They’re going to be released into protective custody tomorrow with complete amnesty pending continued cooperation.” He unbuttoned his collar and moved towards one of the picturesque, night views of Midtown East.

  “Have you spoken to Shelley?”

  Sounding faintly accusatory, James replied, “I can’t get a hold of her. Her phone’s off or something. I’ve half a mind to go over and check on her.” He sighed. “I can’t believe Zach went and turned himself in like that.”

  “What do you mean?” Henri asked, disinterestedly.

  James glanced at his father. “He showed the Feds the video, told them everything. They had him arrested before you and Mom even got back from church. It’s going to make the news that he murdered two members of the Brother’s Circle unless NYPD can figure out how to keep it quiet. Bennet’s hand-picking a prosecutor to make sure they get a conviction.” He scratched his jaw. “It’s ridiculous.”

  Now, Henri gave his eldest full attention. “Did he expose Shelley’s involvement?”

  “From what I understand he kept her out of it entirely.”

  “But she was on the video.”

  “Carter didn’t mention anything about her. Zach must’ve cut her out.” James stepped closer. “Why would he do that? Why would he freely admit to two counts of premeditated murder?” He studied his father’s face as if he knew the answer.

  “Weak men cave to pressure, James,” Henri replied coldly. “What else is there to say? Perhaps some jail time will do him good, anyhow. He
gets in trouble far too often.”

  James narrowed his eyes and then strode towards the door. “I thought you might feel that way. That’s why I invited Carter for that meeting he wanted.”

  Henri bristled at his son’s high-handedness. “He’s here?”

  James smirked bitingly and opened the door. “Carter,” he greeted, finding the hassled attorney right where he’d left him. “Come on in.”

  Henri’s chin lifted even as his brows angled downwards. He glanced at the time declaring the waning day. “Carter. I only have a few minutes. Please be brief.”

  “Of course, sir,” Carter returned diplomatically. “I’ll have you know that one of your clients will be incarcerated tomorrow unless you help Zach.”

  A terse beat passed. “I heard you’re being considered for a promotion. I’m actually having lunch with the D.A. this week. I’ll be sure to drop a good word for you. That is, unless you’ve decided to come on board here.”

  Carter swiped a hand over his moistened face. “Alright. Let’s go at this a different way. Did you coerce Zach to be Shelley’s bodyguard, by any chance?”

  James looked at his father, piqued.

  Henri’s generosity lost altitude as he stood to his feet. “If you won’t tell me which client, I’m afraid we’re wasting each other’s time.”

  “It’s Cervenka.”

  Henri cocked his brow, ready to fire. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m going to Homeland Security.” Carter dipped his tone. “They won’t be discreet. And it doesn’t matter if you warn Cervenka ahead of time, the announcement on the news will be enough to publicly humiliate him, strip his assets, and plunge the stock prices for all associated holding companies. And I know more than half of those CEO’s are your clients as well.”

  Henri scrutinized Carter. “I haven’t been home in twenty-four hours. Can’t this wait until normal business hours?”

  “Speaking of home,” Carter pressed. “Do you know what happened to Shelley last night?”

  James came alert with concern.

  Henri leveled his dark gaze at Carter. “Sit down.”

  It was a relief to be behind bars.

  “Glad to see you’re in good spirits,” Lieutenant Fox commented, coming around to check on Zach that night. “But I wouldn’t get too comfy.” He unlocked the door with his key and swung the metal open. “You’ve got visitors.”

  Zach didn’t move from the bed, finding the thin, bony mattress to fit his mood. “I refused legal counsel.”

  Jordan sighed, disbelievingly. “I know. But I’m pulling rank. So come on. Get your ass out of there.”

  He exhaled lead-filled air and forced himself up.

  Fox shook his head as the grudging jailbird passed. Not even bothering to cuff him or use any restraints, he pointed down the hall. “It’s the second room. He’s waiting in there.”

  Henri glanced over as the door opened and Zach appeared. Their eyes locked, and the lawyer could tell the detective meant to turn right around and leave. “Join me,” Henri ordered, hands clasped at his back.

  Zach sauntered in with a careless air which rattled Henri’s humor. “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating?”

  “What? Your utter foolishness?” Henri scoffed.

  Zach’s nostrils flared. “You can’t just let me be, can you?”

  “You’re rather forgetting our agreement,” Henri said, as he opened up his briefcase upon the plastic table.

  “I didn’t forget anything. That’s why Shelley’s still alive and the club is still open.”

  He pulled out a manila envelope and withdrew a document and an SD card. “Cervenka gave this to me just now. It should take care of everything. He says you’ve earned it.” Setting the papers facing Zach, he said, “Sign here.”

  “No.”

  “It’s just a statement granting me permission to serve as your legal counsel.”

  “I said no.”

  “You sign here so that I can distribute this evidence of your actions done in self-defense, or you’ll be looking at a life sentence.” Henri stared daggers at Zach. “Lord knows you won’t be getting off for good behavior.”

  “Carter threatened you, didn’t he?” Zach taunted. “I apologize for my friend. He’s a bit overprotective. But you already knew that, right? Should make a great son-in-law.”

  Henri glared. From his breast pocket, he withdrew a black fountain pen, with gold and platinum inlays. “Your grandfather was a good man, Zach. I respected the hell out of him. He gave me this pen when I became partner, you know. A Montblanc Meisterstück. Whenever I use it, I always think of Robert and what he did for me. The man who saw my potential when no one else would.”

  Zach’s face hardened. “You can stop trying to manipulate me. You’ve got nothing anymore!”

  “Then why do you look so scared?”

  “My grandfather might’ve trusted you, but I don’t.”

  “So what? You plan on dying in prison?” Henri sneered. “You’re not getting out of life that easily.” He left the pen on top of the agreement.

  Brimming with violet anger, Zach kept his head down and his cerulean gaze focused on the table.

  “Sign and I’ll secure your release Tuesday at the latest. If you don’t sign… Well, can’t say I didn’t try.” Buttoning his sentence with the click of his briefcase locks, he picked it up and made to leave. “Choose wisely.” At the door, he stopped and said in a slightly forgiving tone, “And I heard about last night.”

  Zach’s voice was husky as he asked, “Why don’t you just take her away?”

  “A father does what he thinks is best. He has his reasons, and they don’t often make sense to anyone but him.” Henri gripped the doorknob. “Perhaps someday you’ll have the opportunity to find that out.” He hesitated, face yielding to a hint of emotion. “You can keep the pen.” And then he departed.

  Zach’s spirit fell with the slam of the door. He sank into a chair and stared at the pen, the document, and the card. Yellow highlights indicated the places for him to sign. It was a blur to him though.

  He didn’t want to be free. He didn’t deserve it.

  Nevertheless, of its own volition, his left hand inched towards the pen. Towards the oncoming train.

  Get on or get hit.

  Either way. He was going to die.

  52

  The garage door opened behind her, and Carol beamed at the sound of her husband’s familiar gait. “Finally. I was starting to forget what you looked like,” she teased as he came up behind her at the kitchen sink.

  Henri smirked but there was an absence of joy to his drawn features. “I didn’t forget what you looked like.” He slid his hands down her arms and shut the tap off for her. “I thought I told you not to wash dishes.”

  She smiled deliciously as he enveloped her, kissing her neck. “You spoil me far too much.”

  “You’re unspoilable.”

  She turned in his arms and gazed at his handsome countenance. Fingering his jaw, she sponged his lips. “I feel as if you’ve been avoiding me.”

  “On the contrary, darling. It’s you who have been avoiding me.” He grew suddenly serious. “You’re having an affair, aren’t you?”

  Playing along, Carol gasped and her hand flew to her forehead. “Oh, no! How ever did you find out?”

  “It’s all over your face.”

  “Is it?” She touched her cheek. “Well, I was at the children’s cancer ward today. We were doing face painting.” She sparkled naughtily. “I was a leopard.”

  Henri’s cleft chin deepened. “You’d make a very sexy leopard.” His hands found their comfort zone on her hips and rubbed slowly. “I could almost forgive you for your treachery.”

  “It’s only my gynecologist,” she said.

  “The man from Australia? Whose accent you quote unquote adore?” he replied with a smidgen of genuine jealousy.

  “I don’t know about adore.” Smiling at his swelling chest, she said with delight, “I think you’re angry.�
��

  “An astute statement.”

  Desire blanketed her eyes. She touched his chin with her index finger. “We’d better make up then or you won’t be able to sleep.”

  Henri smiled darkly, making gains towards her mouth. “You do know me so well.” He started unbuttoning her powder blue silk blouse, hungry.

  She pulled his head down and kissed him passionately. His fingers dug into her hair, undoing her coiffeur, inspiring her with pleasure. “I hate Australians,” she whispered against his lips, heart pounding.

  “There’s a penalty for perjury,” he growled.

  “I wasn’t aware I was under oath.”

  “You’re married to me, darling.” He slipped off her shirt. “You’re always under oath.”

  She giggled but he swiftly stampeded her mirth with a love that spanned three decades and whisked her away to his private chambers.

  In bed, Carol stretched out next to Henri, as brazen as when they’d first met. He reveled in her beauty, remembered the secrets she’d shared with him behind closed doors as they rustled the sheets. He kissed her tenderly, holding her voluptuous body as close as possible.

  “What did you do today?” she asked as he nuzzled her neck and his stubble pleasurably grazed her satin skin. “You seem… distracted.” She combed her fingers through his black hair.

  “This is distracted to you?”

  She laughed. “I just – I can tell.” She took his face in her hands and made him look at her. “Is there nothing bothering you?”

  Henri gazed into her warm brown eyes and drowned in her pools. “I was only… thinking about how much I miss you playing for me.”

  Carol lost her glow and averted her gaze.

  He took one of her hands and lay down on his back, examining her fingers, tracing her veins. “Does this hurt?”

  “You know it does.”

  Henri considered her cold answer. “Have you forgiven Shelley?”

  Carol’s head whipped towards him, and her rose petal lips parted in anger. “She’s my daughter as much as yours, Henri.”