“Sure.” Patrick shrugged. “If that makes you feel better—our father’s turn to deal with it. It’s only fair he pays for your mistakes, because we’ve certainly paid for his.”
“He said he was innocent, Patrick. Don’t you understand?”
Shaking his head, Patrick led them further away from the crowds, further away from any prying ears. Standing near the fence at the edge of the facility, Patrick waited for a moment, and then turned to make sure nobody else was in earshot.
“I heard you.” Patrick sighed. “But I don’t want to listen to it. I’ve spent most of my years, three decades, dealing with his mistakes. We both have. We’ve been through so much pain, so much anguish, because of what that man was convicted of doing. I’m not going to dig up the past, dig up all that anger, just to give him a chance. He’s had his life, he’s run his race, it’s time for you to move on.”
“How can you let an innocent man rot in prison?” Hunter snarled, stepping closer. “And not just any innocent man, but a member of your family. I could never turn my back on my family.”
“Our father is guilty.” Patrick looked over his shoulder again as a large cheer went through the crowd. “You said he was in hospital. What drugs was he on?”
“The main one was Endone.”
“Oh.” Patrick threw his hands up in the air. “He was high. He wasn’t lucid, Tex. Who knows what else he said? He probably thought you were a ghost and there were elephants chasing him. I’ve dealt with clients before that have said things while high on drugs, and their statements mean nothing. Nothing. There’s no truth to them.”
The crowd cheered again, and the players started high fiving each other. There was a buzz for this group, an anticipation that the Bears could be contenders for the division title in the years to come.
“Why even tell me this, Tex?” Patrick shook his head. “You know I don’t want to talk about it. You know I’ve left this in the past long ago.”
“I’m telling you because I care about justice, and I care about the truth. And I thought you were the same.”
“I’m not the same, Tex.”
While his older brother didn’t believe Alfred Hunter was innocent—not now, and not from day one—Tex had never given up hope, never accepted his father was guilty, never let justice escape him. He knew the case against his father was weak, he knew the evidence was light, and none of it would stand a chance in the current courts. He had watched as his father was defended by incompetent court-appointed defense lawyers, as no paid lawyer wanted to go near the case.
He watched as the court of public opinion convicted him long before the courts had their chance. He watched as the jury first walked into the courtroom, with their minds already made up. His father had no chance to prove his innocence against the system that convicted him long before the judge’s gavel slammed.
“You have to stop this, Tex. Go and live your life without this shadow hanging over you. He’ll be gone soon. It’s time to let it go.”
“The path to the truth is littered with obstacles, filled with roadblocks, and I’m not going to stop.” Tex rested a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “Not until I find out what really happened.”
Chapter 31
It was Tex Hunter’s third trip to the Cook County Jail in under a week, and he was liking the visits less and less each time. It was busier this time, more people around, and the long stream of people walking through the metal detectors said one thing—the Cook County Department of Corrections wasn’t just a jail—it was a business with an inexhaustible stream of customers.
After he signed in, he was questioned, scanned, and patted down, before being led through the narrow corridors to the interview room.
The small balding guard, Terry Whitman, groaned when he saw Hunter approach. They had clashed many times before, each time Whitman was determined to show Hunter he was in charge, that he was a small man with a lot of power. As a prison guard, within those walls, that may have been true, but he had no power over Tex Hunter.
“I should lock you up as well, Hunter. Criminality is in your DNA. You’ll be in these prison walls one day soon and I’ll be your king. In fact, it’d be better if I just locked you up now. You’re going to do something stupid, I know it. This will save us the effort.”
“If stupidity was a crime, you would’ve been locked away a long time ago, Whitman.” Hunter towered over the aging man, stepping closer to his personal space. “Everyone has the right to be stupid, but you’re abusing the privilege.”
“You watch yourself. These are my walls in here.” Whitman stepped back, unlocked the door, opening it for Hunter to enter, before dangling the key in the air. “I may forget the key one day.”
“You’ve certainly forgotten to exercise lately.” Hunter smiled.
Whitman didn’t.
Hunter stepped into the conference room, stopping momentarily, hit by the smell. Despite the fact that Nina Aisha had spent a month in prison, despite the access to daily showers, despite the opportunity to clean up, there was still an element of unwashed.
It would take years to wash that smell away.
Hunter stepped into the small room only big enough to fit a table fixed to the floor, two chairs that were bolted down, and nothing else. The walls were concrete blocks, the type one would imagine in a dungeon. There were no windows, only one small air vent at the top of the wall, and one light that flickered occasionally. Desperation was soaked into the atmosphere, as was the sense of despair.
“How’s life in here?”
Nina shrugged. Hunter raised his eyebrows. Something was wrong.
“I can finish my high school certificate.” She ran her finger over the edge of the table. “If I stay, then they’ll give me a chance to finish high school. Maybe even college stuff. They say I’m the smartest girl they’ve had in here. I love math. There’s always a right answer to math.”
“Sorry?” Hunter placed his briefcase on the table. “You want to stay in prison?”
“It’s a bed. It’s food. It’s everything I’ve fought hard for.”
“What about your freedom?”
“Freedom? You think I’ve got freedom out there?” She shook her head, her black hair falling over her face. “I can’t go anywhere without people judging me. I can’t afford to do anything. Nobody will employ me. I can’t move forward in life. I don’t have freedom out there.”
“Why did you call me?” Cautiously, Hunter sat down. “You said it was urgent and it was about the case.”
She hesitated, before blinking back the tears. She didn’t want to say the words.
“Nina? Why did you call me here?”
“I’m going to plead guilty.” The words fell out of her mouth without emotion. “I want to change my plea.”
“Pardon?” Hunter leaned forward.
“I want to stay in prison. One of the older women says she likes me, and she said she’ll look after me. I’ve got protection in here.” Nina looked up, but avoided eye contact. “And they say that if I stay, they’ll give me the best high school teacher. I might even be able to qualify for college. I could study to be a nurse; I’ve always wanted that.”
“You can complete high school on the outside. You can become a nurse out there. You don’t need to stay in here to do that.”
“I want to stay here. I want to take the deal.”
Hunter’s mouth hung open, unsure what to say next. The thoughts were crashing through his head at a rapid rate—he was sure someone had gotten to her, someone had pressured her into changing her plea.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you killed Sidney McCann.”
She looked up, made eye contact with Hunter, but then quickly looked away. It was obvious she had spent the night crying; obvious she hadn’t slept in days. Her eyes were bloodshot, the bags under her eyes were dark, and her skin was lighter than Hunter had seen it before.
“What does it matter if I did it or not?” She shook her head. “I’ll sign the deal for ten years. It
’s better than twenty.”
“I can’t tell you what to do.” Hunter’s voice was calm as he tried to think of his next steps. “But if you didn’t do this crime, then you shouldn’t be going away for it. We can fight this. I can take this to court, and we’ve still got a chance.”
“I won’t win in court.” She folded her arms across her chest, shoulders leaning forward. “I’m a homeless black girl and he was a hero cop. He won bravery awards. They’ll convict me before I even walk into that room. And when it gets to the courts, the guards have warned me that things will get really bad back here.”
She held her arms tight across her chest, rocking back and forth slightly. Her chair was freezing, sending shivers up her spine, but worse than that, worse than the bitter cold, was the idea she was going to spend the next decade within these walls. Life had dealt her a tough hand, but she was going to make sure she would get through it. She was sure she could handle it.
“We can still win this in court. I’m close, so close, to finding evidence about the people who really killed Sidney McCann.” Hunter placed his hands on the table. “If we take this to court, I’m sure we’ve got a chance of winning this case.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head, her hair waving side to side. “I can’t take it to court.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to do twenty years in here.” She was fighting back tears. She trusted Hunter, trusted the man that was trying to keep her out of prison. “I can’t take that risk.”
The silence sat over the room for a long time.
Hunter stared at the girl, staring at his client who he was certain was innocent. He needed more time, at least another month to look into the corruption he was positive killed Sidney McCann. The case was building; the evidence was starting to point him in the right direction.
“Please.” Nina eventually broke the silence, a tear escaping down her cheek. “Let me plead guilty. Let me take the deal.”
“It’s your choice.” Hunter stated. “I can’t make that choice for you, but my advice, my legal advice, is to hold on. We’re close to finding out who killed McCann.”
“I can’t. I can’t.” She stared at nothing, her head continuing to shake. “I don’t want to go through the trial and the courts. I want to take the deal. I’ve got protection in here. I can make it through this.”
“You’ve got freedom out there.” Hunter pointed back towards the door, but he understood freedom was a foreign concept to her. “As your lawyer, I advise that you think about this very carefully. You’ll be behind bars for ten years and you’ll leave with a criminal record.”
“It’s not what I want.” She replied. “But it’s what I’ve got, it’s the hand I’ve been dealt. I was thinking if I lose in court, I’ll be at least thirty-eight when I get out. Life would’ve gone past me. The chance to have kids or the chance to build a career, it would’ve already gone. I’d rather be getting out of here at twenty-eight. I can still have kids then.”
“You understand what happens when the prosecution walks in here with the deal? There’s no going back, there’s no changing this. Once you confess, you’re convicted for life. That stain, that mark, is on you for life. Even if someone else confesses, or it’s proven that someone else did it, then it’s still a long process to clear your name.”
“I understand.”
Without her approval, without her plea, he couldn’t take the case to trial, he couldn’t expose Sidney McCann’s career in an open court, and he couldn’t have the old cases reviewed.
Hunter stared at her, devastated with the development.
He couldn’t save Nina Aisha.
And that meant he couldn’t save his father.
Chapter 32
The Chicago air, fresh and cold, blew across Navy Pier, a 3,000-foot-long stretch of concrete situated outside the cluster of skyscrapers, on the edge of Lake Michigan. Complete with a Ferris Wheel, cinema, museum, and grand ballroom, along with restaurants and bars, the destination drew more than two million people each year, mostly tourists looking to check an attraction off their list.
Tex Hunter stood at the end of the pier, near a bronzed statue of Bob Newhart, hands in his coat pockets, staring out to the large mass of water. A boat sailed on the horizon, almost disappearing into the haze, creating a sense that escape wasn’t far away. Escape was something Hunter never contemplated, giving in was not in his nature. He was a fighter, a man who dug his heels in and took on whatever was in front of him.
The sun was setting behind him, highlighting the Chicago skyline in a soft pink haze. As a child, long before his father’s conviction, his family would spend the summer camping in the town of Empire, Michigan, a six-hour drive from Chicago. On those long summer nights, when dusk seemed to go on forever, their tent nestled amongst the tall pines at the Platte River Campground, Hunter would sit on the beach and watch the sunset over Lake Michigan. In all his years since, in all his travels, he had never seen the stunning colors of that sunset again.
No photo could do justice to the sunsets over Lake Michigan.
That raw beauty, those spectacular colors, that sense of calm, had felt like they were painted by the hand of God.
He had never felt closer to heaven than his moments alone on that beach as a nine-year-old boy.
“It’s a beautiful evening.” Esther Wright walked up behind him, mouth full of food, hotdog in her right hand. The ketchup dropped from the end of the bun onto the concrete beneath her, and she frowned at the loss of such a large dollop of sauce. Despite her beauty, despite her stunning eyes, despite her model looks, her eating habits were abhorrent. Hunter raised an eyebrow as she continued to force a large piece of hotdog bun into her mouth, more than what was considered polite.
“You’re eating habits are getting worse, Esther.”
“Ugh. I’m almost…” She tried to talk with a mouth full of food, but as soon as a piece of bun dropped out of her mouth, Hunter held out his hand as a stop sign.
“You should take more time with eating hotdogs.” Hunter smiled. “Especially the sauces. You should really relish the moment.”
“Oh dear. That’s a terrible joke.” She grinned while finishing her mouth full of food. She took a large gulp, forced another bite of the bun into her mouth, and began chewing again. “But I’ve got a good one for you—why do all hotdogs look the same?”
“Why?”
“Because they’re all in-bread.”
“That’s worse than my joke.” Hunter tried to look serious, but his dimples gave his delight away. He shook his head as Esther ate more of the hotdog with another mouthful.
“Mine was way better.” Esther laughed loudly, but as she did, the remaining piece of hotdog slipped from her hand onto the ground. “Oh no. You caused me to lose my hotdog. You owe me another one now.”
“I’m surprised you hadn’t finished it yet. No one could ever accuse you of being a slow eater.”
“Well, I tried to eat a wall clock once.” The smirk stretched across her face as she picked up the remaining hotdog and threw it in the trash. “Talk about time-consuming. Especially when I went for seconds.”
“Oh no,” Hunter laughed as he looked away, shaking his head. “You’ve really nailed the corny jokes today.”
They stood for a moment, smiles stretched across their faces, staring across the lake, the sky starting to darken on the horizon.
“It’s so beautiful. I don’t walk out along the lake enough.” Esther crossed her arms over her chest as a gust blew through. “And you only walk out here when you’ve got something on your mind. I’ve seen it so many times before, Tex. So, what’s up?”
“Prisoners don’t get to experience this beauty, Esther. People like Nina Aisha, she won’t see a sunset like this for the next ten years.”
“What are you talking about?” She turned to him. “Did she take the deal?”
Hunter’s day was spent occupied with dealings in the prosecution’s offices, pushing and pulli
ng to get Nina the best deal. When the forms were signed, when her guilt was admitted, Hunter shook her hand, rested his other hand on her shoulder, and wished her luck. He made it clear that if she needed him, if she needed help, she was to reach out to his office first. Nina thanked him, tears in her eyes, before turning and walking out the door to her next ten years in a confined space.
“Against my advice.” Hunter sighed, then nodded. “Nina took the ten years. She wanted to do ten instead of twenty. She figures that’s a better outcome.”
“But?”
“But she didn’t kill Sidney McCann. She’s innocent.” His teeth clenched. “And it means I can’t expose Sidney McCann’s corrupt past in court. I can’t have his old cases reviewed and I’ve lost the chance to review my father’s case.”
“Can’t you go to the police corruption unit? Won’t they do something with the information you’ve dug up?”
“They won’t touch it. They won’t look into a retired, and now deceased, cop’s past, even if he was going to do a deal with the DOJ. Without solid evidence, without something concrete, they won’t even consider it. I know because I’ve tried in the past.”
“And that means your father’s case stays closed, and he never gets to see a sunset like this.” She pulled a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Do you think someone got to her? Someone got into Nina’s ear?”
“I’m sure of it. I could see it in her eyes.” He leaned on the metal bar that separated them from the water. “I don’t know what they threatened her with, I don’t know what leverage they had on her, but they got to her. They made her change her mind. I knew it was coming, I knew they wouldn’t let us take it to court, but I still don’t like it.”
Hunter looked over his shoulder. Amongst the crowd, there was a man with a baseball cap. A Yankees cap. He was lurking around, keeping an eye on them, trying to disguise himself in the background.
“Come on.” Hunter stood on the other side of Esther, between him and the man behind them. “It’s getting cold.”
Corrupt Justice Page 17