Influence

by Carl Weber

  “Of course,” I replied, though I was a little concerned. Every lawyer has a duty to put his client’s needs first, so why did he feel the need to state that so directly? He continued, and I got my answer.

  “So, with that said, you should know that we are considering filing a motion for my client to be tried separately from your three clients.”

  “What? Why? That makes no sense.” I sat on the edge of my seat. I was no longer just concerned; I was very worried.

  “It makes all the sense in the world from my client’s perspective. Mr. Adomako is innocent.” He gave me a shit-eating grin.

  “All of them are innocent, Mr. Kimba. Don’t you realize how this is going to make the rest of them look? We have a much stronger chance of beating this case if they’re tried together and we are united,” I explained, trying to maintain my composure.

  “No, Mr. Hudson, your clients have a much stronger case if we’re united.” Kimba’s smile faded away, and he became serious. “My client may be better served by going it alone. He was not driving; he was in the back seat. He was not smoking any marijuana. He was an innocent bystander who happened to be a passenger. He’s just a victim of circumstance, and one, if not all, of your clients are guilty. You know it as well as I.”

  I had to keep my poker face on for that one. This guy may have been in a tiny office over a nail shop, but he wasn’t stupid. Or was he? I decided to call his bluff and see which one it was.

  “Sounds like you’ve been talking to the DA’s office, Mr. Kimba. What did they offer you? I hope it’s as good as the deal they offered us.”

  Kimba sat back, looking surprised. In truth, we’d talked to the DA’s office and they had made an offer to us, but it was twenty years for each one of our clients. Not a good deal by any stretch of the imagination.

  “I am not at liberty to say, but my client has declined the district attorney’s offer for now,” Kimba said.

  “My clients have declined the district attorney’s offer as well.” I matched his smile from a moment ago. “So, now that we have all our cards on the table, maybe we should talk strategy.”

  He remained silent for a minute—maybe deciding whether he could trust me, or figuring out how he could take advantage of joining forces with the Hudsons. Either way, I waited quietly for his answer.

  Finally, he said, “Mr. Adomako has rejected their offer, but there is one thing that could sway my client to helping the DA’s office, Mr. Hudson.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “The DA’s office has made threats to revoke the visas of my client’s parents and siblings. They are hardworking people in this country legally.”

  Wow, the DA’s office was really going all out. It was bad enough they had a great case up until this point, but to go after Kwesi’s parents in order to get him to roll over seemed over the top.

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  “It’s common knowledge that your mother is a federal judge in high standing. Perhaps she could intervene on the Adomakos’ behalf. Put in a good word with the government to move along their citizenship.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. If not, I’ll represent them myself.”

  My answer seemed to satisfy him. “Thank you. I will tell Mr. Adomako. So, what type of strategy were you thinking?”

  “Well, the bail set is astronomical and excessive. My firm is already drafting a bail reduction motion. We’d like to attach your client to it,” I told him.

  “I’ve already put things in place to file the motion for my client, Mr. Hudson.”

  “You have? That’s great. I’ll put you in touch with the people on our side who are drafting a motion. We can file them simultaneously so all three will be on the docket together.” I was relieved that he had already started the process and I wouldn’t have to babysit him through it. This whole situation was a mess, and having one less headache would be a relief, as things were bound to get even more complicated than they already were.

  Perk

  30

  “That was my guy over at One P. P. He’ll have something for us this afternoon,” I said, placing my cell phone back in its holster on the dash of my truck. I didn’t hear a response, so I glanced over at Michael, who was gawking at me from the passenger’s seat. “What?”

  “You have a source over at One P. P. that gives you information? As in One Police Plaza, the NYPD headquarters?”

  “Yeah, and?” I replied as if this was common practice. “I’m the lead investigator for Bradley Hudson, one of the most well-known attorneys in the country. I have sources everywhere. Hell, my sources have sources. Otherwise, I don’t have a job. You do the math.”

  “I am . . . I have.” He still looked astonished. “You know, Perk, when Bradley first told me to work with you, I thought it was going to be a waste of time. But I’ve learned more in the past few days working with you than I did the entire time I was at Goldberg, Klein, and Hooper sitting in that cubicle.”

  “Mike, we haven’t even touched the tip of the iceberg. That shit you learned at Harvard Law School and from them folks downtown is fantasy land. We get down and dirty. Coming to work with us is like learning to ride a bike without training wheels: either you gonna learn to ride fast, or you gonna get bruised up like a motherfucker.”

  Michael nodded his understanding. “Don’t worry. I’m a fast learner.”

  “You seem to be, which is why I’m gonna teach you everything I can before Bradley kicks you over to Carla’s team.” Once again, he looked bewildered.

  “Carla’s team? Who is Carla?” Before I could reply, he answered his own question. “Oh, yeah. Carla, the new wife.”

  “Yeah, the new wife.” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “But I wouldn’t let anyone hear you say that other than me. Far as Carla’s concerned, she’s the only wife. She’s been trying to rewrite history for the past five years.”

  “That sounds like good advice,” he whispered. “So, what exactly does Carla do for the firm? Is she a lawyer? I thought she was just his wife.”

  “Oh, she’s more than just his wife. The entire third floor of our office is her domain. She runs all the firm’s jury consulting, and she’s the best there is at what she does. Trust me.”

  “I feel like I’m in some type of black version of The Practice,” Michael said as we pulled into the circular driveway of the Hudsons’ summer house in Sag Harbor. He looked around in awe as we got out of the truck. “They own this too?”

  “Yup, wait until the summer. The parties we have here are off the charts.” Memories of last summer, jumping off the roof and into the pool came to mind. How fucking stupid was I? That was the day I gave up tequila.

  It was cold for a late spring day, so I tightened my jacket as we walked toward the house. Before we could ring the bell, the door opened and Langston appeared. “What’s up, fellas? Come on in.”

  “What’s up, Lang?” We followed him into the living area of the house, where Simone was laid out across a love seat.

  “Hi, Perk.” Simone sat up and smiled. Langston settled on the seat next to her.

  “How ya doing, Simone?” I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “This is Michael. I don’t think you met him at the house the other day.”

  Michael reached his hand out to shake Simone’s. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Sorry to bother you, bro, but we needed a little information to help move the case along.”

  “Sure. Whatever I can do to help. It is my ass on the line. Any word on that bail reduction hearing for my boys?”

  “Your sister said that it’s scheduled for tomorrow,” Michael replied.

  “Good. What about the case? Any new updates on that?” he asked.

  “You should probably talk to your old man about that, but everyone’s working hard.” I felt bad not having anything else to say about it. “I was kind of hoping you could give me some insight into how things went down.”

  “Perk, I already told you everything I know. I’m starting to think tho
se cops set me up.” He was getting agitated, but Simone placed her hand on his shoulder, and it seemed to calm him down.

  “If they did, then we’re going to find out. I’ll have copies of their body and dash cams tomorrow.”

  “Good.”

  “But what I need now is what happened before they arrested you,” I explained.

  I nudged Michael. I wanted him to ask Lang the first few questions, so I could analyze Lang’s answer and hit him with a follow-up. Sometimes hearing other people brought new questions to light.

  Michael caught on quick. He looked down at his notes and said, “Your mother said she bought the car on Friday. So, it’s safe to assume you were out and about Friday night, showing off your new ride, right?”

  “Nah, I stayed home Friday night,” Lang answered. “I didn’t go anywhere until Saturday morning.” He glanced over at Simone for backup.

  “Yeah, he FaceTimed me about seven that night, all excited when he brought the car home.” Simone laughed. “He was like a kid with a new toy.”

  “So, you didn’t go anywhere?” Michael asked. “I mean, a new ride like that, I would have had to put some miles on that baby.”

  “I know, right? And I wanted to, but I had this paper I had to finish up and email to my professor. The deadline was ten p.m. Simone and I were going back and forth on it. She was proof reading it.”

  “Damn, I wish I had a girlfriend like that when I was in school. No wonder you get all A’s,” I commented, but then sat back to let Michael continue his line of questions.

  “You didn’t drive the car Friday, so where was the first place you went Saturday?” he asked.

  “It wasn’t to see his girlfriend, who spent half the night reading his paper,” Simone said with an attitude. “He went out to show off his new car to his friends.”

  “I wasn’t driving all the way from New York to B-More, Simone, when I was going back to school the next day,” Lang snapped back with just as much attitude. It surprised me, because I’d never seen him be anything but respectful to his woman. “Besides, you were busy. You had plans to go to dinner with your line sisters, remember?”

  “You still could’ve driven down. You could’ve gone to dinner with us,” she said.

  “Yeah, right.” He laughed, then looked to me and Michael. “Would y’all drive three hours to go to dinner with fifteen women?”

  “Sounds like a fun time to me.” I shrugged happily. “Where do I sign up?”

  Michael nodded enthusiastically. “I’m with Perk. Hand me a pen.”

  “See!” Simone sat back and folded her arms.

  “Whatever,” Lang groaned.

  “So, where did you go Saturday?” Michael asked as he pulled out a legal pad. “Where was your first stop?”

  “I went to Krush’s first. We were supposed to go over to the park near his house and ball with some of our frat brothers from City College.” He hesitated, glancing over at Simone.

  “Supposed to?” I snapped. “Look, Lang, I need you to tell us everything you did from the minute you left the house until that cop pulled you over. Don’t be leaving shit out.”

  He glanced at Simone again before he spoke. “When I got there, he had some chick he’d met at the strip club with him. She had made this big-ass breakfast when I got there.”

  “What chick? Isn’t he seeing that Zeta?” Simone sounded really pissed now.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so, not anymore.” He turned his attention back to me. “Anyway, she was about to call an Uber, but Krush insisted that I let him drive her home.”

  Simone gasped. “You let him drive some random ho around in your new car?”

  “She didn’t live that far, Simone, and I was in the middle of eating. It was no big deal.” Lang sounded like he was pleading with her to believe him.

  “So, you let Krush drive the car?” Michael asked, glancing at me. “How long was he gone?”

  “Not long. Maybe twenty, thirty minutes.”

  “Do you know where this girl lives?” Michael asked.

  “No, but like I said, it wasn’t far, because he wasn’t gone long. I’m sure he remembers.”

  “Do you even know her name?” Simone asked. Langston reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. “See, that’s why I didn’t hook Krush up with my friend, Lauryn. Fucking with nasty-ass strippers. That’s disgusting.”

  “Are you sure that’s the only place he went?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation focused on Langston’s defense, not on their lovers’ quarrel.

  “As far as I know,” he replied with the look of a man in the doghouse.

  “Okay, so where did you go next?” I asked.

  “We played ball for about three hours; then we went to Kwesi’s. His mom made us a bunch of African food, and we watched the playoffs.” He kept looking over at Simone, who refused to meet his eyes. “We were there for a while, eating and talking.”

  “The car didn’t move?” Michael asked.

  “No. Well, wait. His pops was blocked in the driveway, so his brother moved it, but that was it until I left.”

  Once again, Michael and I shared a knowing look. Michael was taking detailed notes each time Langston gave him an answer. He was definitely giving us some good information we could use in his defense.

  “Okay, then from there, where did you go?” Michael asked.

  “We went to Tony’s crib and picked him up. We didn’t get out the car at all. Then we went to this kickback by the Barclays Center for a sec.”

  “A sec?” I asked.

  “A couple of hours. We were outta there by ten tops.”

  “A kickback? You didn’t tell me you were going to a kickback.” Simone rolled her eyes at him.

  “It wasn’t something that was planned, Simone,” he huffed.

  “Then why’d you keep it secret?” she shouted. Lang turned to her and gave her the “will you chill?” look.

  Michael pressed on. “Where’d you go from there?”

  “We drove over to Benny’s bar, played some pool, and had a nightcap.”

  “Who is we?” Simone asked suspiciously.

  “Me, Tony, Kwesi, and Krush. That’s it,” he said. “After that, I dropped Kwesi and Tony off at the train around one and took Krush home; then I went home. The next day, I picked them all up, and we hit the road.”

  “So, the next morning, when you got ready to leave, did you notice anything? Was there anything in the trunk other than your bag?” Michael asked.

  “Nope. The trunk was empty far as I could tell.” He shrugged.

  “And when you picked up your boys, did each of them put their own bags in the trunk?” I asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Did you get out and watch?” Michael asked.

  “No, I didn’t watch. It was cold. I wasn’t getting out the car. We’ve been riding home together for damn near four years. Nothing changed except I was driving a different car. They’re my best friends. I trust them,” he said, giving us answers to questions we hadn’t even asked. “That’s why I let Krush drive my brand-new car. And Kwesi’s brother. It’s just a car.”

  “Oh, yeah? Then how come you never let me even drive your old car?” Simone stood up and walked out of the room. She was fuming, and he was definitely going to hear about it after we left.

  “So, that’s it? Those are the only places and people who were around the car?” Michael asked.

  “Uh, yeah.” He nodded.

  “You sure about that?” I asked. “That’s all you gotta say?”

  He gave us this innocent look and said, “Yep.”

  I glared at him for about five seconds, then like a cobra, I grabbed him by the color roughly. Michael looked like he was about to faint as I led Langston to the door. “Will you excuse us for a minute, Michael? Me and Langston have to talk in private for a minute.”

  “Perk, what the fuck?” Langston tried to struggle free, but he wasn’t going anywhere as I dragged his ass out of the house. “Have you lost your
mind?”

  “Have you?” I growled back, throwing him on the lawn. “Now, I’m going to ask you this one more time. Were those drugs yours?”

  “No! Hell no, Perk,” he protested, shaking his head furiously. “You know I’ve never touched that shit! I barely smoke weed.”

  “Then who put those drugs in the car?” I clenched my fists and stepped to him.

  “I don’t know. I swear to God I don’t—” He flinched, probably sensing that he was about as close to a beatdown as you could get. I didn’t care if it cost me my job. I was going to get to the truth. “Don’t you think if I knew, I’d tell you?” he asked.

  “Then why the fuck are you lying to me?” I was breathing heavy with anger.

  “I’m not lying to you!”

  I stared him in the eyes as he started to tear up.

  “Yes, you are. You started this whole damn conversation off with a lie,” I barked. “I was at your house Friday night, working with Carla and your pops. When I left, you weren’t there, and neither was your fucking car.”

  His eyes grew wide like he couldn’t believe I’d figured out his lie. After all the years I’d been with the family, his dumb ass should have known I was not the one to lie to.

  “Okay, okay, you’re right,” he finally said. He stared at the house as if he were more scared of it—or, rather, of Simone—than he was of me. “I left right after I sent my professor the paper.”

  “What the fuck, Lang? I thought we was better than that.”

  “We are, Perk. I swear we are.”

  “Then why’d you lie to me, bro? I’m trying to help you.”

  “I know that, but I couldn’t say where I was in front of Simone.”

  “Why? Where’d you go?” I demanded to know.

  He glanced up at the window to make sure Simone wasn’t standing up there listening. “I went and got Tony and Krush. We all went to this underground strip club Tony’s brothers run.”

  I wanted to pop him in the mouth right then and there.

  “We were there a couple of hours, drinking and getting lap dances and shit.”

  I sighed. “What the fuck was you thinking? Don’t you know those places get raided all the time? That was stupid.”