by Joseph Hayes
A spotlight illuminated the driveway. Upon seeing Jake outdoors with a large black man dressed like a gangbanger and a motionless body lying prone on the pavement, the officers jumped out of their vehicle and dashed toward them.
“What’s going on here?” shouted Officer Mraz, panic etched across his face as he looked from Jake to Jerome, to the white-haired man lying unconscious before him. The thunder was growing distant again, and the rain had subsided.
“Where the hell were you?” Jake shouted back at him. “I was nearly abducted by this bastard!” He motioned at the man on the ground, who had started to stir.
“A car exploded right down the street. We went to investigate. I called it in right away, and we hurried back here as soon as backup arrived. We didn’t plan on being gone for more than a few minutes. I’m really sorry.”
“Forget about it, I’m okay,” Jake muttered. He noticed that his head was bleeding where he had hit the driveway, and that he was shaking all over. He hurriedly explained to the officers what had happened. The white-haired man sat up, a glazed look in his eyes.
“That’s the guy from the picture,” said Officer Jordan, referring to the sketch that had been drawn from Shooter’s description and circulated following the threat made against Jake in the parking garage.
“Yeah, that’s him alright,” Jerome nodded, blood dripping from his nose and mouth.
“Cuff him, Jordan,” Mraz instructed his younger partner. “I’ll call another car to take this guy in.” He turned and walked toward the car.
“Get up,” Jordan ordered the white-haired man, who was still in a sitting position, looking dazed.
“Help me up,” the man replied in a groggy voice, holding out his right arm.
Jordan extended a hand and the white-haired man took it. As their hands clasped, the white-haired man sprang to his feet, pulling Jordan toward him with his right arm and grabbing Jordan’s firearm with his left, while delivering a vicious head-butt to the bridge of Jordan’s nose. Jordan howled with pain, and Officer Mraz came running toward them, reaching for his weapon. The white-haired man pointed Jordan’s gun directly at Mraz’s forehead.
“Freeze!” he shouted.
Mraz complied.
“Drop your weapon!”
Mraz hesitated for just a moment, then did as instructed.
“Kick it over here.”
Officer Mraz kicked his gun toward the white-haired man, who bent over and picked it up, keeping his eyes and his weapon fixed on Mraz. The white-haired man walked backwards slowly, toward the alley behind the house. “Don’t move,” he said, keeping the gun trained on the group as he backed away. They saw him disappear around the corner of the garage, and then heard the sound of running footsteps, fading into the darkness.
Mraz bolted back to his car and radioed for help. “Put out an APB,” he ordered the dispatcher. “Caucasian, male. Six-foot-four, two hundred thirty pounds, white hair, mid-forties. Dressed entirely in black. He is armed and should be considered extremely dangerous. Last seen on foot heading south at 104th and Hamilton Streets.” Within minutes, the sound of approaching sirens filled the air. Three squad cars pulled up almost simultaneously, blue lights flashing.
Jake repeated his story to the officers several times. An unmarked car arrived, and Chief Tomczak sprang out of it and rushed up to Jake.
“Are you okay, son?” he asked Jake.
“I’m alright, Chief.” Jake replied. “Just a little shaken up.”
“Who’s he?” Tomczak asked, looking suspiciously at Jerome.
“He’s okay,” Jake replied. “He’s a friend of mine. Just saved my ass.”
“Why don’t you two go inside?” the Chief said. “I’ll join you in a minute.”
Jake and Jerome complied. They could hear a long, loud tirade from the Chief as he berated his officers for leaving their posts, and then losing their weapons.
“Think it’s okay if I split?” Jerome asked. “All these cops make me nervous.”
“I think you better stick around awhile longer. I imagine the Chief will want to talk with you.”
After a few minutes, Chief Tomczak joined them. He was profusely apologetic and embarrassed over the evening’s events and promised to double the size of the security detail. One more time, Jake was forced to describe everything he could remember about the incident. When he had finished, Tomczak shook his head and looked at him gravely.
“You’re goddamn lucky he showed up,” Tomczak said, nodding at Jerome. “I hate to think what might have happened otherwise. By the way, why were you here?” the Chief asked Jerome.
Jerome hesitated, clearly uncomfortable at the prospect of a police interrogation. “Let’s just say I owe him. I knew that dude was following him around, so I been keeping an eye on Mr. McShane.”
“Well, I’m glad for that. Shit, you did a better job than we did. But, I don’t get it. Why –”
Jake cut him off. “I’ve known Jerome and his brother for a long time, Chief. That’s a story for another time. Look, I’ve got a busy day tomorrow and a long week ahead. Let’s call this a night, shall we?”
Chief Tomczak excused himself, promising Jake that the army of men in blue lingering around the house would stay through the night, and assuring him that reinforcements had arrived at Peggy’s house as well. The power company was diligently working to restore power, and reported that the lines serving the entire block had been sabotaged by someone who obviously knew what he was doing. The phone line had been cut as well, so the Chief loaned Jake a cell phone.
Jake and Jerome were left alone in the kitchen, in the eerie light produced by the combination of candles and flashlights.
“I don’t know what to say, Jerome. I can’t thank you enough.” Jake hesitated, then continued. “I still don’t get it. The Chief asked the same question that’s been on my mind. Why?”
“Like I said, Shooter feels like he really owes you, man. And that means I owe you.”
“But why? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to understand. Just know that we’ve got your back. Now, let me ask you something. Why is that dude after you? I’ve been around a lot of bad dudes and I know one when I see one—that sucker’s bad news. What’s he got against you?”
“It’s got something to do with a trial I’m handling. He wants me off the case. But why, I don’t know. I can’t make any sense of it.”
“Yeah, I know about your case—I’ve seen you on the news a couple of times and read about it in the papers. How’s that going?”
“I don’t know yet. We’re in the middle of the trial. It should be over after next week, and then maybe that guy will be out of my hair.”
“You gonna win?”
“Probably not. It’s really more a question of how badly we lose, and there’s a whole lot riding on one witness. He’s one of our guys, but I think he’s lying. If the jury believes him, we’re sunk.”
Jerome looked puzzled. “Why can’t you get him to tell the truth?”
“I’m not sure. He’s got some agenda, but I don’t know what it is.”
“Why don’t you let me help?” Jerome suggested. “Let me talk to that dude. I know when people are bullshitting me, and I’m pretty good at making ‘em tell the truth.”
Jake smiled, as he imagined nervous, little Randy face-to-face with an angry Jerome. He was pretty sure Jerome could scare the truth out of Randy. “Thanks for the offer. I have no doubt you’d get results, but I have to do this my way. I’m meeting with this guy in the morning. Maybe I can bring him around.”
“Suit yourself. If you change your mind, let me know. I’d be glad to help.”
“Thanks, Jerome. Thanks for everything. I still don’t understand why you think you owe me. I think it’s the other way around now. Anyway, I really appreciate it.”
“No problem, man.” He stood up and they shook hands. “I gotta run. And don’t worry. I’ve still got your back. That crazy sucker is still out there and your trial ain�
��t over yet. You be careful.”
Jake looked out his back window as Jerome walked quietly into the alley. He saw the glare of headlights and then watched as the big white Cadillac drove silently into the night.
CHAPTER 54
Despite the events of the previous evening and an extremely restless sleep, Jake awoke clearheaded, with a renewed sense of determination. He willed himself to banish those events from his mind for the time being. His enemy, whoever that was, wanted him distracted, and he would not allow that to happen.
With the assistance of Paul LaDuke, USH’s General Counsel, Jake spent the morning and early afternoon preparing his witnesses. He would be presenting various corporate officials to testify about the plans that had been developed to address the billing systems issues, and the company’s intentions to implement those fixes, even though that had not been accomplished prior to the filing of the lawsuit. He had witnesses to explain the program that had been put in place since the filing of the lawsuit to provide patients with an independent review of their invoices, and refunds plus interest where overcharges were substantiated. He had witnesses to testify that the billing problems resulted from the attempt to integrate numerous highly complicated billing systems, and that there was never any intention to deliberately overcharge anyone.
The key witness would be Randy Kraft, and Jake met with him last. Randy would take the stand first thing the next morning as the last witness for the plaintiffs. He looked more nervous than usual. Jake had Randy's deposition transcript beside him, with various sections highlighted. He had written a list of questions on a yellow legal pad. These were questions he anticipated that Rick would ask, as well as questions that he intended to ask during cross-examination.
Jake looked at the questions in front of him. They had been through this many times before. The answers were always the same, except for the curveball Randy had thrown at the end of his deposition—his claim that he had been instructed by the CFO to deliberately avoid any effort to identify past errors and correct them. That would likely be the single most important piece of evidence in the entire case. The way Randy responded on that point could have an impact of hundreds of millions of dollars. Impulsively, Jake shoved aside his notes, and decided on a different tack.
“Randy, I'll make this short. I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?”
Randy swallowed hard and nodded. Jake folded his hands in front of him and leaned forward, staring intently at Randy. “I'm not going to sit here and tell you what you should say tomorrow, and I’m not going to tell you how to say it. The only instruction I have for you is the instruction I give to every witness: Tell the truth. That's all you have to do. Don’t worry about the consequences. Just explain exactly what happened.” Jake paused, looking for a reaction. Randy stared at the table, avoiding eye contact. Jake continued, in a voice that was soft, but earnest. “Tell the truth, Randy. You have a legal obligation to do that. The court requires it and both sides deserve to hear it. More important, you owe it to yourself. I've been through a lot lately, as you probably know, and I've done a lot of soul-searching. I ask myself all the time, what really matters, and do you know what I think, Randy? Honesty matters. Goodness matters. Knowing that you live your life the right way matters. You need to be able to look yourself in the mirror tonight, tomorrow and forty years from now, and feel proud of yourself. When you're in a position to honestly reflect on your life, you’ll realize that money doesn't matter—fame, power, getting even—those things don't matter. Knowing that you've done your best to be a good person and do the right thing in every situation is what it's all about. In this situation, that means just telling the honest truth on that witness stand tomorrow. Your testimony may impact a lot of people. You owe it to them, you owe it to the court, and most of all, you owe it to yourself, to tell the truth. That’s all you need to do, Randy. See you tomorrow.”
With that, Jake got up and left the room. Randy continued staring at the table. He said nothing. Paul LaDuke gathered his files and walked toward the door. He turned to face Randy. “Just one more thing, Randy. Like Jake said, you should tell the truth because it's the right thing to do. But if that's not a good enough reason for you, think about this: That young man's wife may have been murdered, and that incident may have had something to do with this case. The police are using all of their resources to investigate. If they think anyone in the plaintiffs’ camp had anything to do with that, and if you happen to be working with the plaintiffs in any capacity, you may share in that responsibility. I don't know whether you could be found legally responsible and face murder charges or conspiracy charges, but there is certainly that possibility. Even if you escape criminal culpability, you’d carry a moral responsibility with you for the rest of your life if you had any part in promoting a cause that’s tainted by such a crime. Just tell the truth, son, and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”
Randy Kraft took the witness stand at 9 a.m. Monday morning in front of a packed courtroom. Everyone in attendance anticipated that Rick Black would conclude his case with a flourish, maybe even a bombshell, although they could not anticipate what it might be.
Rick walked Randy through a series of questions and established that Randy was intimately involved in identifying the company’s invoicing problems and closely involved in the meetings called to address the problems. In fact, it became clear that no one in the company had greater knowledge of these issues. Rick led Randy through the sequence of events leading up to the meeting involving the company's CFO and its Vice President of Information Technology. He was clearly building up to a climax, the exact nature of which was still unknown to his audience. “Mr. Kraft, what was the outcome of the meeting held on March 29th, the one in which the CFO and the head of IT participated?” Rick spoke in a loud and clear voice as he strutted before his witness.
“They told me that addressing our billing issues needed to be a matter of the highest priority. They said to do whatever it would take to fix these problems ASAP and that I would have whatever financial resources and IT support I needed.”
“But then you had a subsequent meeting with the CFO a short time later – alone – is that correct?” Rick continued his pacing and glanced at the judge and jury as he asked the question.
“No.”
Rick stopped his pacing and turned quickly toward his witness.
“Excuse me?” His tone was sharp.
“That is not correct. There was no subsequent meeting with the CFO.”
Anger and surprise flashed across Rick's face. “Mr. Kraft, listen to me carefully. Is it your testimony that you did not have a private meeting about these issues with Mr. Klein, the CFO, sometime after the March 29th meeting?”
“That is my testimony. There was no subsequent meeting.”
Rick was momentarily dumbstruck, then he launched into attack mode. “Mr. Kraft, you gave a deposition under oath before testifying here today, is that correct?”
“Yes, I did.”
“You testified during your deposition that Mr. Klein approached you privately after the March 29th meeting and told you to go through the motions, but to purposely drag your feet and avoid fixing any past problems. Do you recall making such a statement in your deposition, under oath?”
“Yes, but it's not true. There was no such meeting. Mr. Klein gave me no such instructions.”
Rick was livid. “So, you lied under oath at your deposition? Or are you lying now, Mr. Kraft?”
“I'm telling the truth now. I only made up that story during my deposition because you asked me to.”
“Objection!” Rick yelled, his face contorted with rage.
“Mr. Black, he’s responding to your questions. You can’t object to your own questions,” Judge Trainor admonished him.
Rick looked down, struggling to control his anger. He walked aggressively toward the witness stand and glared at Randy. “So, you are admitting here that you committed perjury, by knowingly lying during your deposition?”
; “Only because you asked me to.”
Rick bit his lip to keep from exploding. “And you expect the jury to believe your testimony here today, the testimony of an admitted perjurer?”
“I'm telling the truth as I sit here today.”
Rick turned his back on the witness and walked quickly back toward the counsel table. “I have no further questions for this witness,” he said with obvious disgust.
A buzz rippled through the courtroom, as whispers and glances were exchanged over this unexpected development. Judge Trainor pounded his gavel. “Quiet please!” he ordered. “Your witness, Mr. McShane.”
Jake approached the witness stand. “I have only a few questions, Mr. Kraft. I need you to be perfectly clear on this point. The only instructions you received from Mr. Klein, the CFO, were to fix the problems as quickly as possible and to pay refunds to anyone who had been overcharged, and he told you that you would have whatever resources you would need to accomplish that, is that correct?”
“That is correct.”
“And why did you testify differently during your deposition?”
“Objection!” Rick shouted.
“Overruled,” Judge Trainor replied. “You opened that door yourself on direct, Mr. Black. The witness may answer.”
“Mr. Black encouraged me to tell that story.”
“I have no further questions.”
“The witness is excused. We will take a short recess. I want counsel in my chambers, immediately,” said Judge Trainor.
Rick and Jake followed the judge into his chambers. Rick began talking before they had sat down. “Your Honor, I have serious concerns about what’s going on here. I think the defense has obviously gotten to this witness and influenced his testimony. They are clearly trying to taint the jury by attacking me with these malicious allegations. They're trying to detract attention from—”
Judge Trainor raised a hand and interrupted. “Enough, Mr. Black. I have serious concerns here, too, but I'll remind you, you called this witness. If his testimony today is truthful, I don't need to tell you what kind of trouble you'll be in with the State Bar. Unauthorized secret meetings with a member of the defendant’s management team; encouraging fraudulent testimony; this is very disturbing.”