Influence

by Carl Weber

She raised an eyebrow dubiously. “Why do you question the women?”

  “Because women have a thing for me. White, black, yellow, or green, they just do. It’s my superpower,” I joked. “Call it a gift or a curse, but it just works, and I’ve even learned how to identify when it’s working and when it’s not.”

  “Sounds sexist,” she replied.

  “That’s because it is. But what am I supposed to do: ignore it, or use it to the best of my ability to help my clients?”

  “Let me think about that one,” she said, rolling slightly away from me.

  I took the hint and got up. I went into the bathroom, flushed the condom, and washed myself off. I wet another washcloth and brought it to Felicia.

  “Thanks. You’re so considerate,” she said, snuggling beside me and putting her head on my chest. “Look, I get what you were saying earlier. You can’t help it if you’re attractive, but don’t go saying shit like that to a woman you’re sleeping with. It kind of takes your sexy away.”

  We both laughed, and I kissed her.

  “By the way, I saw that James Brown is prosecuting your case. Don’t underestimate him,” she said. “The man’s good.”

  “Tell me about it. It’s like he’s got our playbook and he’s one step ahead of us. Even my dad is becoming frustrated, and I’ve never seen this happen.”

  “Sounds personal.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, it is. He’s got some connection to my mother and father, but neither of them will talk about it.”

  “Well, you want me to see what the problem is? I can find out,” she offered. “One of my partners comes from that office.”

  I thought about it. Felicia was well connected, and utilizing her might be helpful. At this point, I was willing to take any assistance I could get.

  “You think you can? Discreetly, of course.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “I’d appreciate it. I thought I would be able to knock this thing out of the park, but now I’m not sure.”

  “Lamont, you’re one of the most prodigious young defense attorneys in New York. There’s no need to start doubting yourself or your abilities.” Her fingers caressed my chest.

  “Prodigious?” I looked down at her. Was she talking about my talents or the size of my member?

  “Prodigious,” she repeated, moving her had a little lower. “And I have a confession.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I was really looking forward to working with you at our firm. I know ending up like this wasn’t anything either one of us anticipated when you were interviewing, but I really think you’d be an asset. I was disappointed when they said you turned down the offer.”

  “Yeah, it was a great offer, too. But I thought about it, and I knew it wouldn’t be right, especially considering us. You know that wouldn’t have been good,” I told her.

  “It may have worked . . . but I understand. Besides, your family needs you right now. That would’ve really put you in a difficult position if you’d left last month. I’m glad you stayed.”

  “True, it worked out for now, but I don’t know if my staying is going to be a permanent decision.”

  “Your father is Bradley Hudson. The Bradley Hudson. Do you know how lucky you are?”

  “He is one of the best,” I agreed. “But I want to grow the firm, bring on other great lawyers as partners, and expand into what I know it could be. He’s satisfied with us being a small, family business with me, him, Des—and hopefully, one day Langston. We could be so much bigger, and the clients we would attract would be immeasurable.” I’d thought about this potential for so long, but Dad always shot me down whenever I brought it up.

  “That is true. Have you explained your vision for the family’s firm with him?”

  “Many times, but he doesn’t want to hear it. It’s his way or no way,” I said with a sigh.

  “Maybe’s he’s afraid of growing too big, too fast. That can be a bad thing,” she suggested.

  “Well, thanks to Langston, all eyes are on us right now, that’s for sure. Winning this case is going to do wonders for us, and we’re gonna be in high demand, whether he likes it or not. But if he doesn’t want to grow, maybe I’ve got to think about my own plans.”

  Tony

  52

  I glanced back at my mom, who gave me a small wave with her fingers. She was sitting two rows back, next to Langston’s mom. We were all waiting as the judge talked to the lawyers in front of his bench. After opening arguments where the prosecution made us sound like a bunch of thugs, and Bradley Hudson made us sound like saints, the trial was in full swing. Although we’d only been in session a couple of days, it felt like a year.

  “Man, I’ll be glad when this shit is over and done with,” I said, loosening my tie.

  “I feel you. They’ve pretty much called the entire NYPD to testify. Some of them weren’t even there when we got picked up.” Lang shook his head.

  “True, but your pops did his thing yesterday. He made that sergeant look like a fool.”

  “Yeah, my stepmom said we pulled two jurors to our side yesterday,” he said.

  “That’s what I’m talking about. Your people are the bomb.” I laughed quietly then looked over at Krush. He’d been quiet since we arrived in court, probably because they’d beaten his ass again last night. “Hey, man, you a’ight?”

  “I’m good,” he said unconvincingly. “I hope they wrap this shit up soon, for real.”

  The lawyers returned to the tables, and we turned our attention back to James Brown with his shiny head and his JC Penney suit. I wasn’t sure how much his salary was at the DA’s office, but I would’ve though he could afford better suits than the ones he wore, which clearly were off the rack. Bradley and Lamont Hudson wore custom-fitted menswear, which said a lot, and I hoped the jury would notice.

  “Are we ready to proceed, Mr. Brown?” the judge asked. He was a middle-aged, skinny Latin guy who always dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. I didn’t know why, because I never saw any sweat.

  “Yes, I’d like to call Steven Barnes to the stand,” Brown answered.

  Lang leaned over and asked, “Who the hell is that?”

  I shrugged. “Probably another cop.” The side door to the courtroom opened, and a guy in a prison-issued jumpsuit was escorted in by a guard.

  “Oh, shit,” Krush mumbled.

  “Yo, Krush, ain’t that the dude you used to play cards with all the time?” I asked. “What’s his name? Meat?”

  “Yeah, it looks like him.”

  “It looks like him? Nigga, that is him,” I growled.

  “I don’t know,” he mumbled.

  “You better pray it ain’t got nothing to do with you.”

  I felt Mr. Hudson’s eyes on me. I sat up, confused as I watched Meat, the guy who’d slept in the bunk next to Krush when we first arrived at Rikers, placing his hand on the Bible and swearing to tell the truth. What the hell was he about to tell? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be nothing good. When we first got there, Krush was running his mouth constantly, and he gossiped with this dude like they were a couple of bitches.

  “Mr. Barnes, can you tell the court how you know Kirby Wright?” Brown asked.

  “Who?” Meat frowned.

  “Kirby Wright,” Brown said with an attitude, pointing over to our table. “You might know him as Krush.”

  “Oh, yeah. Krush and me are tight. Our beds was right next to each other.”

  “And how long have you been in this proximity?” Brown asked.

  “Since he got to Rikers a couple months ago,” Meat said.

  “And uh, did Krush tell you why he was at Rikers or the events that led up to his being there?”

  “Yeah, he’s pushing weight.” Meat shrugged. A couple of people giggled from the audience. “That nigga Krush ain’t no joke when it come to that tar.”

  Brown turned around and faced the jury with a look that said, I apologize for this illitera
te man. To Meat, he said, “Can you explain what that means for people who don’t know?”

  I closed my eyes and began praying as I thought about everything Krush might have said while trying to impress this dumb fuck. I glanced over at Krush, who looked like he wanted to die. That’s when I knew that whatever Meat was about to say was really bad for our case.

  “Yeah, he sells a lotta dope. He told me him and his boys got popped for a couple keys of that good black tar heroin rolling down to DC—but that was light compared to the weight they normally move,” Meat announced as casually as if he’d just said Krush delivered pizza for a living.

  “Objection!” Bradley rose to his feet. “Hearsay!”

  “He’s just explaining what he meant by pushing weight,” Brown responded.

  “I’ll allow it for the time being,” the judge told him.

  “Thank you. Now, Mr. Barnes, as far as you know, are Krush and his co-defendants involved in the sale of narcotics?” Brown asked.

  “Your Honor!” Mr. Hudson yelled. “He is not an expert witness on the defendants.”

  “Mr. Brown, you’re skating on thin ice.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” He turned back to Meat. “You and Krush recently had a falling out. Why was that?”

  “Because of the crowd he runs with. Look, I’m just locked up for drug possession. I’m trying to do my little year and get the hell outta here. I don’t need the kind of shit Krush and his people be dealing with.”

  “And what kind of stuff does he deal with?” Brown asked.

  “Everyone knows they’re connected and protected by the Bloods. His boy Doctor Strange runs our entire unit.”

  “By Doctor Strange do you mean his co-defendant, Anthony Baker?” Brown pointed directly at me. There was murmuring in the courtroom, and I glared at Krush.

  “Yeah, that’s Doctor Strange,” Meat replied. “Krush is his enforcer.”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” Bradley yelled again.

  Before the judge could reply, Brown asked, “And how do you know that he’s a Bloods enforcer?”

  “Look at all the bruises on his face.” He pointed at Krush. “Krush told me he gets in a fight almost every day for them.”

  Krush turned to me, and I gave him a look that told him exactly what I was going to do to him when we got back to the island. That was when he snapped.

  “You lying son of a bitch! I never told you that shit! What the fuck is wrong with you? You trying to get me killed!” Krush screamed, jumping over the table and heading straight for the witness chair. For a dude that couldn’t fight, he was running straight into one—except the court bailiffs caught him before he reached Meat.

  “Order! Order!” the judge bellowed. “Mr. Hudson, you need to calm your client. Do you hear me?”

  But there was no calming Krush.

  “Krush, sit down and be quiet!” Bradley barked, trying to get his attention.

  “He’s lying!” Krush struggled against the guards. “He’s a fucking liar!”

  “Bailiff, take him out of here and put him in lockup! I don’t want to see that man again in my courtroom!” the judge ordered.

  The next thing I knew, Krush was being cuffed and hauled out of the courtroom.

  Michael

  53

  I felt like I was in the middle of a three-ring circus. To say the day in court had been crazy would be an understatement. After the damaging testimony from Krush’s supposed friend, things seemed to go downhill, and there was no turning back. By the time we all made it back to the office, tempers were at an all-time high. Bradley, who up until now had seemed cool, calm, and collected, was frazzled and unnerved.

  “Damn it, can somebody tell me how this fucking career criminal ended up on the stand? I thought you said Steven Barnes was a cop.” He paced back and forth at the front of the conference room where we were all seated.

  “We did, Daddy. I guess Steven Barnes is a common name. How were we supposed to know? The cops had another Steven Barnes working the same day of the arrest,” Desiree said. “We thought it was him testifying.”

  “You’ll get him on cross, honey,” Carla said, but it didn’t look like that made Bradley feel any better.

  “Carla, find whatever the hell you can about that fucking guy, and also find out every fucking thing you can about Kirby’s lying ass. And I mean everything!” Bradley snapped.

  “We’re digging up everything we can on him as we speak,” Carla replied.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Lamont replied cynically. “The damage was already done the second Krush leaped over the damn table.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s worth a try.” Bradley then turned to Perk. “I thought you were working on that report. What’s the hold up?”

  “My source is working as fast as he can, Bradley,” Perk tried to explain. “He’s gotta get a sample out of the Feds’ evidence lockup first, and that shit ain’t easy.”

  “I don’t care. I need it. This case will be over before you come through,” Bradley said.

  Perk glared at Bradley as if he wanted to hit him before getting up from his seat and walking out. I was embarrassed for the brother. I looked over at Desiree, who was avoiding everyone’s stares by looking down at the center of the table. Come to think of it, she’d been avoiding eye contact a lot lately, ever since that weird moment by the elevators. Between that and whatever she had going on with Perk, that was one chick with a very interesting life.

  Carla spoke up. “Bradley, that was uncalled for, and you are way out of line.”

  “After the day we had in court, I don’t have time to sugar coat anything. Perk has a tough skin, and he knows I meant no harm,” Bradley told her.

  “For the record, we lost six jurors today,” Carla said unhappily. “Lamont, you still have jurors two and five drooling, so a wink here and a smile there might help. Jurors number six and seven seem to be sympathetic to Langston.”

  “That’s it? We’re down to four jurors on our side?” Jacqueline chimed in.

  “Yep, and we haven’t even had Kwesi on the stand yet,” Carla replied.

  “Tell me about it.” Bradley pulled out a chair and sat at the head of the table. “I just wish I knew what the hell else James had up his sleeve.”

  “We just need a break. Damn, something’s gotta give,” Lamont huffed.

  “What if you don’t get a break? Then what?” Jacqueline asked.

  “Maybe we can meet with ADA Brown again,” Desiree suggested. “And see where his head’s at.”

  Lamont chimed in. “See if the deal he offered—”

  “We’re not doing that.” Bradley shook his head.

  “What do you mean again?” Jacqueline asked.

  Bradley glared at Lamont with the same amount of anger that Perk had shown him earlier. He told Jacqueline, “He offered some ridiculous deal that made absolutely no sense for Langston to accept.”

  “What was the offer?” Jacqueline directed her question to Lamont, rather than Bradley.

  “It doesn’t matter what the damn offer was, Jackie. We didn’t take it. Contrary to what you may think, I am the defense attorney assigned to Langston’s case. You aren’t. Your being here is a courtesy. You don’t get to dictate what happens,” Bradley told her. “So, if you think I’m gonna go groveling to James Brown and beg him for a deal, I’m not. Granted, today was a brutal day in court, but we can come back from this.”

  Jacqueline was still facing Lamont, and she repeated the question as if Bradley had not just delivered his soliloquy. “Lamont, what were the terms of the plea agreement that the DA’s office offered?”

  The room remained quiet as we waited to see if Lamont would answer his mother. Finally, he said, “The offer was three to five with a guilty plea on the possession, and they would drop the intent to distribute.”

  “And Langston said no? He would be out in a year and a half, maybe less.” Jacqueline sat up straight. This time, her eyes went from Lamont to each person in the room, including me.

/>   “Jackie, Langston is not pleading guilty. We’re going to beat this thing, and neither his record nor his future is going to be damaged by this case. He’s got the best damn defense team in the world, and I’m going to see to it that he comes home.”

  “But what if you don’t, Bradley? Then what?” Jacqueline yelled.

  “I will. Don’t you think I know what’s in my son’s best interest?” Bradley asked.

  “And you think I don’t?”

  “Don’t make me answer that, Jackie,” Bradley warned.

  “Mom, Dad, come on. This isn’t the time or the place,” Desiree interjected.

  “No. By all means, please answer, Bradley. I’d like to hear what you have to say,” Jacqueline said icily.

  “You wanna waltz in here, giving all kinds of opinions and talking about what you think we should do for your son. Well, guess what? You don’t get a say. You’ve neglected that boy since the day he was born, pissed off because you said he was a mistake that was getting in the way of your career. How do you think he feels knowing you couldn’t bring your ass to visit him in jail?” He folded his arms defiantly. “You wanted an answer? There, you got it.”

  Jacqueline swallowed hard, then she stood and grabbed her purse.

  “Mom, wait,” Desiree said.

  “I may not be the best mother in the world, and I’m not a renowned defense attorney, but as an appointed federal judge, and a good one at that, I know a sinking ship when I see one. And you, Bradley, are the captain of this one. I pray to God that you find a way to save it. If not, you’re going to regret it.” She walked out with her head held high.

  James

  54

  “So, Mr. Meat, you do realize that this is a high-profile case with a lot of media attention, don’t you?” Bradley Hudson asked, leaning up next to the witness stand like he and Steven “Meat” Barnes were best friends.

  “Yeah, I know that,” Meat said, rocking his head up and down to agree. “That don’t bother me. It’s your clients on trial, not me.”

  I raised a hand to my face to hide my smirk. He was a great witness. When I’d first added Meat’s name to the witness list, Grace had opposed the idea. She didn’t believe he would be able to handle Bradley’s questioning. But I’d prepped him well, and I knew his statement would be damaging and help solidify our already strong case. Meat had been so good that he caused Kirby Wright to lose control and be removed from the courtroom yesterday. Lamont Hudson had spent the morning arguing why Kirby should be let back in the courtroom, but the judge disagreed. So now, up against Bradley’s cross, Meat was doing just fine and showing no sign that he might crack.