Influence

by Carl Weber

  “Good evening, Mr. Hudson.” The doorman greeted me as I passed him.

  “Evening,” I said simply, keeping my gaze forward and not making eye contact.

  I walked directly to the elevator and pushed the button. When I stepped on, I ignored the once over given to me by an older, white gentleman with a pug dog. He continued to stare at me as I pushed the button for the penthouse and slid my access card into the slot. I would not give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence just so he could give me the cold shoulder. We rode up, both pretending to enjoy the sounds of Barry Manilow coming from the speakers, until we arrived at the twelfth floor and he stepped off. I was tempted to say something smart before the doors closed, but I knew it would be pointless. The man lived on the twelfth floor, a basic commoner who would probably never have access to the penthouse, and he knew it.

  I stepped off the elevator and went to the first of two doors on this floor. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I paused, then rang the bell and waited.

  The door opened, and the first thing out of Jacqueline’s mouth when she saw me was, “Is my son home? Did you get my baby out of that place?” She stepped into the hall and looked up and down as if she expected to see him standing there.

  “No, but he’s all right. Desiree and Perk went to Rikers and saw him about an hour ago.”

  My words didn’t give her any comfort. “I don’t care who saw him, Bradley. I want him home. How the fuck did you let this happen to my son?”

  I held my breath and took a step back because I was about to lose it.

  Lamont and I had spent the entire day scrambling around the Staten Island Courthouse, trying to get the court to issue a stay on Langston’s bail being revoked. We were finally issued a hearing on the matter at around 4:30. Unfortunately, Judge Rodriguez was out of town, so we had to be heard by Judge Weinstein, the judge who had signed the forfeiture early that morning. Weinstein was one of those old school judges who needed to retire ten years ago. So, despite what I considered a great argument for reinstatement, the judge flat out denied our request, leaving my son a prisoner on Rikers Island. My reaction to his ruling was more than colorful, and I left the courthouse five thousand dollars lighter but feeling a tad bit better.

  “It’s been a long, hard day, so I’m going to take into consideration that we’re both upset and that you have temporarily forgotten that he’s also my son and that I love him as much, if not more than you do, considering you walked out on us six years ago.”

  She glared at me. Jacqueline hated to be called out on her shit, and although I didn’t do it often in order to keep the peace, I was the absolute best at it.

  “What happened? It was that little bitch Simone’s fault, wasn’t it? I’m going to fuck her up when I see her, Bradley.”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort.” I held up the brown paper bag and said, “That’s why I’m here, so you don’t get information secondhand. Let’s sit down and have a drink.”

  She stared at the bag and said, “That better not be domestic.”

  “Please. I know you better than that.” I laughed, and she took the bottle and let me inside. I noticed her white silk nightgown under the robe she wore, but I knew that even if she had been in bed, she wasn’t close to sleep with everything going on with Langston. Jacqueline, for all her cool demeanor and superior intellect, was really a big softy and a major worrier.

  Her apartment was massive, almost half the penthouse floor. It was tastefully decorated, and I had no doubt that my ex-wife had spared no expense in making sure it was to her liking. Jacqueline had a love of art, and her collection of paintings and pieces was as exquisite as the price tags that came with them. We’d bought the place during the housing crisis for about three million as an investment, or at least I’d thought that was why we bought it. Then she took the lead on the renovations and made it exactly to her liking, with nothing but the best high-end finishes. Now the damn thing was probably worth twenty million.

  She walked behind the bar in the corner of the living room and took out two glasses, placing ice in each. I opened the bottle and poured the 70-year-old cognac. We each picked up a glass, and I followed her over to the sofa.

  “Oh my God, this is like heaven.” Jacqueline closed her eyes and savored the liquor. “There is only one thing that would make it better.”

  “You mean something like this?” I reached in my breast pocket and pulled out two Cuban cigars and a cutter. Jacqueline’s face lit up. She took a cigar and the cutter from me. Jacqueline was unlike most women I’d ever met, and that included my current wife. She truly enjoyed a good cognac and a superior cigar.

  I watched her light the cigar then draw from it. She savored the smoke then let it out with a satisfied smile. “This might get you off the hook, but not that little whore our son seems to be so smitten with. Her, I’m going to kill with my bare hands.”

  “You’re not going to kill anyone. This is Langston’s fault just as much as it is hers.” I took a sip of my cognac and leaned back on the soft leather cushion. “He knew better than this.”

  “Don’t make excuses for her. I know she bought the tickets.”

  “It really wasn’t her fault, Jackie. Langston gave her his credit card to book a weekend getaway to Puerto Rico. Simone thought she was saving him money by booking their tickets on Skiplagged, some new cheap travel app. She booked them on a flight to Guam that had a layover, because it was cheaper than a direct flight to San Juan. They were just going to get off in San Juan and purposely miss the connecting flight. But to the DA, it looked like they were trying to leave the country.”

  “They shouldn’t have been flying to Puerto Rico anyway. What the fuck were they thinking?”

  “They weren’t thinking. They’re kids. Biggest mistake she made was not booking a return flight because she didn’t know when they were going to return.”

  “You know what? She wasn’t thinking because she’s dumb as hell, and the only reason he likes her is because she has big tits.”

  “That’s not a bad thing.” I motioned toward Jacqueline’s own well-endowed chest that was half the reason I’d noticed her when we met years ago. “We Hudsons are breast men.”

  She quickly folded her arms and smirked. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh? But I had beauty and brains to go with my boobs. There’s a difference.” She tossed back the rest of her cognac. “Just when I thought this shit couldn’t get any worse. He’s out on bail, facing serious criminal charges, and she decides to plan a fucking vacation. She’s a dumb broad.”

  Jacqueline had never been one to hide her true feelings. When she didn’t like someone, she made it known. However, I wasn’t here to trash Langston’s girlfriend. We had much more important things to discuss.

  “Lamont and I spent the entire day working on a motion to get his bail reinstated, but that judge wasn’t hearing any of it.”

  “He didn’t fall for your charm, huh?”

  I frowned, slightly bothered by her statement. “My charm is always backed by sound legal arguments. And you know it.” I took a manila folder out of my briefcase and handed it to her. She pulled on her cigar while she read the brief I’d filed earlier.

  “I’m biased, of course, but other than a lack of a return ticket, I can’t see a reason why he didn’t reinstate Langston’s bail.” She tightened her lip in a gesture of annoyance.

  “I can give you one,” I replied.

  “I’m listening.” She exhaled a cloud of smoke.

  “The argument of an overzealous prosecutor with an axe to grind. This was personal.”

  She didn’t look surprised. “You’ve made your share of enemies over the years, that’s for sure.”

  “So have you. I’m not the only one with a closet full of skeletons, my dear.”

  “What are you saying? This is about me?” she asked.

  “Nope, this is about us, Jackie. The DA on this case is our old friend, James Brown.”

  “Shut up!”
Jacqueline nearly dropped her cigar. “Eight-inch afro James Brown?”

  “Well, he’s bald now, but yes, we’re talking about the same guy. Not the singer.”

  Jacqueline took a moment, looking almost nostalgic. “Damn, it’s been so long I’d almost forgotten about James.”

  “I don’t think he’s forgotten about you—or me, for that matter.” I finished off my drink and poured another glass, then offered Jacqueline a refill as well. She lifted her glass, and I topped her off. “This isn’t good, Jacqueline. That man’s going to take his hate for us out on our son.”

  “I can see that.” She sighed. “Why the hell is he working for the Staten Island DA’s office? Why isn’t he in private practice somewhere?”

  “I don’t know. Once a loser, always a loser, I guess. I have Carla looking into him, but from the smirk on his face this morning, this is personal. Very personal.”

  “Bradley, I need you to go and talk to him. I don’t care what you have to offer him, but get him to call off the dogs and bring my—our son home.”

  “I figured I’d leave that conversation to you.” I raised an eyebrow at her.

  “No, I think you should go first. Let’s see where his head is at.”

  “Fine. I’ll speak with him, but we both know it probably won’t help. You’re the one he—”

  “Just try.” Jacqueline leaned over and touched my hand.

  “I said I would, Jackie,” I assured her.

  She kept her hand on mine. “What time do you have to be home?” She gave me an endearing look. I’d seen it before, usually when she was drunk. It was her “she-tiger” look, and it usually meant trouble.

  “When I get there,” I answered. “But now might be as good a time as any to head home.” I reached for my cell phone to summon an Uber.

  “It won’t matter if it was now or three hours from now. She’s still going to think we had sex, you know.”

  She was probably right, but I wasn’t going to justify her with an answer.

  “After all, it was the one thing that we were good at as a couple—other than practicing law.” She gave me a knowing look, and we stared at one another for a few seconds.

  “Yeah, we were definitely good at that,” I said.

  “I’m fifty-eight years old, and no man has ever been able to do to me what you used to do with your tongue, Bradley Hudson. Your oral skills were the absolute best,” she teased.

  “Were? Trust me, they still are.” I gave her a seductive smile.

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said boldly, opening her robe to expose her bare breasts under the sheer nightgown. I must admit I was flirting with her, but I never expected her to react like this. “How about a little reminder for old time’s sake? I mean, if you’re going to get in trouble for something, you might as well be guilty.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “You sure? Why not?”

  “Because, despite being married to a wonderful woman who I love, I actually have feelings for you, Jackie. I always have, and you know it. And every time I do something stupid like this, you always break my heart.”

  Perk

  36

  I parked the car on the street on Nostrand Avenue in Brooklyn and headed for the small basement store. I felt kind of bad leaving my new homie Michael behind, but where I was about to go wasn’t the type of place a Harvard-educated lawyer needed to be found.

  I descended the steps leading to the entrance. The music was blasting so loud I could hear it from outside. A couple of dudes were posted up by the door wearing oversized white T-shirts and skinny jeans with red bandanas. I had expected them to be there and was prepared for what they were about to ask.

  “What’s up?” the first one asked, blocking the door.

  “Here to check out the sights and spend some money,” I told him, taking out a wad of cash from my left pocket.

  “I ain’t never seen you here before.”

  As he gave me the once over, the other guy said, “How you know what we got up in here?”

  I snickered. “Aaron and Adonis told me to come through when I had the chance.”

  Satisfied with my answer, the first guy said, “It’s a twenty-dollar cover.”

  “Man, that’s funny. They told me it was ten.” I peeled off a twenty while the other guy patted me down. I hated to do it, but I’d already been advised to leave my piece behind.

  He took the money from my hand and said, “They lied.”

  They opened the door for me, and I was immediately hit by a cloud of smoke. My nostrils filled with the smell of weed. I entered the long corridor where I saw two more guys smoking a blunt. Neither one of them said anything to me. They must’ve picked up on the vibe that I wasn’t to be fucked with.

  After I passed, I heard one of them ask, “Who the hell is that big motherfucker?”

  “Don’t know and don’t care,” the other one answered.

  I went through another door into a dimly lit strip club. Naked women danced on two small tables located in the center of the room, and there were lap dances happening around the room. I went and ordered an overpriced drink from the bar in the corner. At least five women approached me to ask if I wanted a lap dance, and two came right out and asked me if I wanted to fuck. On another day I might have said yes, but I was there to work. I politely declined their offers as I scanned the room until I saw the two people I’d been looking for. Damn, if Tony didn’t look just like them.

  “You wanna dance, daddy?” a fine-ass brown-skinned girl asked.

  I gave her the once over, reaching into my pocket and peeling off a fifty from my roll. I held it out to her. “No, but you can tell those two guys over there that I wanna see them.”

  She turned in the direction I was looking then turned back to me, surprised. “Aaron and Adonis? You wanna talk to them?” I nodded, and she snatched the fifty out my hand. “Okay, but it’s your funeral.”

  She walked over to talk to them, said a few words, and pointed in my direction. It didn’t take long before they were standing in front of me. Now I really regretted not being strapped.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Adonis, the older brother, yelled over the music.

  “Name’s Perk,” I yelled back.

  Aaron cocked his head to the side, sizing me up. “Yeah, and? What the fuck do you want, Perk?”

  “I need to holla at you about your brother Tony,” I told them.

  “We don’t talk to police.” He turned to walk away.

  “I ain’t the fucking police. If I was five-oh, don’t you think there’d be a lot more motherfuckers with me?” That was enough to make them stop and listen. Then I added, “I work for Hudson and Associates, your brother’s attorneys.”

  The two of them exchanged a look, then Adonis said, “A’ight, we can chat in the back.”

  I followed them into a back room that was already occupied by a couple fucking on the couch.

  “What the—” the guy yelled. He jumped up with his pants around his ankles.

  “Heeeeey!” the woman whined.

  “Get the fuck out, Pee Wee!” Adonis yelled. “We got business to handle in here.”

  Pee Wee pulled his pants up, but the woman had nothing to cover herself with. Obviously, she was on the clock. She gave Adonis a seductive smile as she walked out, and he playfully smacked her perfectly round ass.

  “Man, that ass is the absolute phattest.” Aaron nodded at his brother.

  “And you told me not to hit that,” Adonis commented.

  “Maybe I have to reevaluate my thinking,” Aaron replied. “Damn, I wonder what her momma fed her to get an ass like that.”

  I couldn’t help sneaking a final glimpse just before the door closed. They were right; her ass was amazing.

  “How much you want from us?” Adonis asked when the three of us were alone. He reached into his pocket and took out a fat roll of bills. “We ain’t got that type of bail money, but I know you lawyers ain’t cheap.”

  “Especi
ally someone like Bradley Hudson,” Aaron added, reaching into his pocket too.

  “Nah, I ain’t here for no money,” I told them.

  Aaron folded his arms and looked at me suspiciously. “Well, what you here for then?”

  “I’m here to talk to you about that dope that was in the car,” I answered. “Where did it come from?”

  “Aw, hell naw. Yo, let’s go.” Adonis nudged his brother.

  “We don’t know nothing about no dope,” Aaron said, standing his ground. “And neither do Tony.”

  “Maybe he did it to impress you,” I said. “You know, little brother trying to outdo his big brothers and all that. That was some high-grade stuff. It didn’t come from just anywhere.”

  “We don’t make our money in dope. We make it selling ass,” Adonis said.

  “Is that why you have sixteen drug arrests between the two of you?”

  “I thought you said you ain’t police?” Aaron shook his head, letting me know I’d pushed too hard. “We ain’t got nothing to say. Come on.”

  “A’ight. Your brother’s in jail and y’all are just walking away. Before you leave, though, I think there’s somebody you need to talk to.” I took out my phone and speed-dialed a number. Luckily, the brothers stayed where they were long enough for the call to connect.

  “Aye, cuz,” I spoke into the phone. “I’m down here with your people, and they treating me like a three-legged stepchild. They about to walk out on me.” I held the phone out for Adonis.

  “Who the fuck is that?” he asked me.

  “Take the phone and ask him.”

  He snatched it from my hand and said, “Who dis?”

  “Who is it, bruh?” Aaron asked, but Adonis didn’t answer him.

  “Yeah, uh, okay. A’ight. I understand. Cool.” Adonis ended the call and handed me the phone.

  “Who the fuck was that?” Aaron asked again. “That Tony?”

  “Nah, it was Mandel.”

  “Get the fuck outta here. For real?” Aaron looked shocked.

  Mandel, who was one of the highest-ranking members of the East Coast Bloods, was not only a client but a personal friend of mine. Our relationship was mutually beneficial, and he always let it be known that I was to be given the same respect that he was.