by Tra Verdejo
“But you never heard the bribes. You are only assuming.”
“I don’t know the details of the negotiation, you are right, but if my cut is one hundred thousand, that’s more than assuming.”
“Donald, for how long have you been snorting cocaine?”
“Maybe five years. I was working on a case, and in order to join their organization, I had to snort cocaine. Only problem is, after that, I became addicted.”
“So you are an addict?”
Johnson jumped in again. “I object, Your Honor!”
“Withdrawn. Do you have a problem with cocaine, Mr. Gibson?”
“No, I’ve been clean since I left the force. Cocaine became a part of our job. We would snort every day, before we hit the streets. As a matter of fact, we snorted all day long, but those days are behind me.”
“On the night in question, how much drinking and cocaine did you do before the shooting took place?”
“I don’t recall how much cocaine, but it was a lot. Maybe three grams.”
“You snorted three grams of cocaine?”
“Not just me. Between all four of us, we used about three grams, and we all had about three to four shots of vodka.”
“Is it safe to say that maybe you were too high to remember what you saw?”
“No, it’s not. I clearly remember what I saw.”
“But you were high and drunk, yet you want us, the jury, and the court of law to believe an ex-dirty cop and former drug addict. Sitting over there, we have three honest cops, fathers, and husbands. Why are you trying to sabotage their careers and families?”
“What about Perry’s family? Who’s thinking about them?” Lucky stood up as he replied. Matthew finally got to him. “Listen, I know what happened that night. We killed an innocent man for no reason, and now we are hiding behind our badge, this city, and the law.”
“Mr. Gibson, if you don’t sit back down, I will hold you in contempt!” the judge yelled at him. “Are we clear?”
“Yes, we are clear,” Lucky said as he sat back down.
By this time, everyone in the courtroom, including the judge, was losing a little patience. Matthew was trying his best to avoid asking the main questions he should be asking.
The judge said, “Mr. Matthew, please get on with your case, so we could move to closing arguments by tomorrow morning.”
“Mr. Gibson, didn’t you shoot your gun that night as well?”
“No, I never drew my gun from the holster.”
“All of my clients testified you were the first one to shoot back. Remember, you are still under oath.”
“I never drew my gun, and I never shot it. There were no shell casings found on the scene that matched my gun. Those three officers over there killed Perry out of pure hatred. ‘Another dead, Black criminal. Who cares?’—Those were the words my captain used that night.”
Again, the courtroom exploded. This time, some even rushed the three officers charged. They’d had enough and couldn’t hold back their anger. The extra court officers available were able to control the crowd rapidly, but not before Steve “Loose Cannon” got hit with a chair across his back that threw him to the ground, but he was okay.
The judge banged his gavel and adjourned court until the following week. He then made his way out of the ruckus and ran straight into his chambers.
Lucky didn’t want any part of the rumble. He made his way back into the holding cell, more concerned about disappearing again.
Meanwhile, the police officers on the scene were slapping handcuffs on anyone that moved or supported the Coleman family. It was like something out of the movies.
It took about forty-five minutes to finally get the courthouse under control. Those who weren’t arrested were sitting in their seats not knowing what to do next, shocked at the way things turned out.
Lucky had some quick words with the DA.
“Listen, Lucky,” Johnson said in a soft, worrying tone. “They’re going to try to move this case to another county, maybe upstate or Westchester. If we continue, I expect a hung jury. The judge will give me a date to hear the closing argument, but I guarantee that day will never come. They don’t want a deadlocked jury. This case will get moved, especially after the ruckus that just took place in the court.”
“There’s nothing you could do to stop it? C’mon, brother, this is the time to step up. You sound like you giving up,” Lucky shot back in disbelief.
“Giving up? Listen, I worked my ass off for this case. I believe your story. I know they killed that poor kid for no apparent reason. Since this case started, I have noticed the loopholes in our great government. I’m getting pressure from the fuckin’ mayor to plea-bargain down to a misdemeanor.”
“What? That’s only a twelve-month sentence. They’ll be out in six months.”
“I know, Lucky. I’m glad you came forward. You sure you don’t want to hang around a little longer? We could really use your help.”
“Man the fuck up. They are testing you to see how far you will go. If you show fear to take chances or risk everything you have, they will own you. I can’t hang around. I now have a hit on my head for stepping on that stand. I won’t disappear quietly—I could promise you that.”
Before the district attorney could reply, Lucky was already heading for the door. Once he heard about the case being moved, he automatically knew the charges were going to get reduced or maybe even dropped. He made his way outside the courthouse and disappeared into the downtown Manhattan crowd.
There was nothing Johnson could have said to keep Lucky around, but Johnson had a funny feeling he wouldn’t be too far away either.
Outside the courtroom, Perry’s mother was getting ready to speak to reporters, while her husband, and Perry’s wife and son stood by her side.
Chapter Five
The Phone Call
Laura took a deep breath when she saw there were over thirty media personnel waiting for her on the front steps of the Supreme Court, where many celebrities had held their press conferences. Laura dreamed about this moment. This would be her first shot at redemption, closure. She knew the world was watching. She wanted to make sure she kept her composure and chose her words wisely. The last thing she wanted to do was come off as a hateful woman who had a vendetta with the entire police department.
“Today, we learned the truth about what really happened to my son,” she said. “We heard it from one of the officers who was present when the shooting took place. He testified against his former partners, and finally painted a picture for us. Now we know what happened that night.
“Since the first day my son was murdered, I was told by everyone, the mayor, police commissioner, and even you guys, the media, that my son had a weapon. I didn’t raise him to shoot people. I’m not saying I’m a better mother than any woman, or that Perry is a better son than anyone’s, but the portrait you guys painted of my son was untrue. Today, it was a blessing to hear Donald Gibson come clean and tell the truth to the world. I know my son didn’t shoot at the police officers. He didn’t even own a gun. He made one mistake when he was a juvenile with some school friends, but since then, he has blossomed as a respected, positive man.
“At today’s hearing I was shocked to hear the racist language coming from other police officers who were showing their support. It’s sad that we still face racism, like we are still in the fifties and sixties. I hope today’s ruckus doesn’t dilute the jury’s decision when it’s time to hand down the verdict. These animals must pay for what they did to Perry, his family, his wife, and son. A guilty verdict won’t bring him back, but at least he will be able to rest in peace.
“I’m curious now to see what you guys will print in the papers tomorrow. I hope one of you apologize for jumping to conclusions and defaming my son’s name. That’s all I have to say right now. Any other questions, our family lawyer will answer them for you. Have a good day.”
As Mrs. Coleman, her husband, Kim, and little Perry walked down the steps of the court
house, reporters followed them, hoping for one more statement. They all quietly jumped in a black Lincoln Town Car and drove away.
While in the car, Laura leaned back, closed her eyes, and exhaled. She was hoping when she woke up, her baby Perry would still be alive, and this would all be one big nightmare. On their ride back home, they kept hearing a phone ring.
“I know I’m not going crazy. Can someone please answer their phone?” Perry Sr. said.
“I hear it, too, honey. Excuse me, driver. Is that your phone?”
“No, Mrs. Coleman, that’s not my cell phone ringing. I have mine on silent.”
They all looked puzzled and confused and started searching for this cell phone. Perry Sr. was riding shotgun and didn’t see anything in the front.
Kim reached under her seat and pulled out a black RAZR, still ringing. “I found the phone. It’s ringing. Should I answer it?” Kim asked.
“Wait, not yet!” Laura shot back in a scared tone.
“Someone left it here because they want to communicate with us,” Kim argued. She flipped the phone open and answered the call. She had a gut feeling the caller had information to provide.
“Hello?”
“Put Mrs. Coleman on the phone, please.”
“Who is this?” Kim replied, looking over her shoulders. She knew whoever was on the line was watching them, because they knew she wasn’t Laura.
“Listen, I need to speak to Mrs. Coleman. Please pass her the phone.”
Kim attempted to pass the phone to Laura, but she didn’t want to take it. The past few weeks all kinds of nutheads had been calling her. She was tired of the harassment.
Her husband had to encourage her to take the call. “Go ahead, honey. Speak to them. See what they want. The minute they say anything crazy, just hang up.”
“Okay.” She pulled the phone close to her mouth. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Coleman, no matter what you do, please don’t say my name until we hang up.”
“Who is this?”
“Mrs. Coleman, it’s me, Donald Gibson, the cop who just testified.”
“I don’t understand why you are calling me.”
“Just listen. First, I want to apologize for what happened to your son. You have my deepest sympathy and condolences. I’m calling you because I wanted to warn you about a few things. If I know my partners, they already bugged your car and house. They know I would be contacting you guys, so in other words, they are listening. However, they can’t hear me. That’s why you can’t repeat what you hear. Are you following me, Mrs. Coleman?”
“Yes.” Laura sat up on her seat.
Perry Sr. was getting a little concerned about the conversation. By her body language, he knew she was uncomfortable, but not frightened. He held back from grabbing the phone.
“Okay, listen, I have some bad news. The defense is going to try to file a motion to move the trial to another county. That’s going to hurt your case, if they approve the motion. Let’s meet. I have something to give you. Meet me tomorrow morning in Central Park. You know how to get there?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s meet at nine in the morning on 110th Street and Fifth Avenue. When you get off the phone, I want you to say out loud my name, and a fake address where we’re meeting. Good day, Mrs. Laura. I will see you in the morning. Oh, before I forget, remember, you are being watched. I would say, at least a ninety percent chance, you are. I would come up with other ways to communicate without making it obvious. Good-bye, Mrs. Coleman.”
“Wait, I don’t—”
“Shhhh. I will answer anything you want to know when we meet. Are you coming?”
Laura had to take a deep breath. She grabbed her husband’s hand, squeezed it, inhaled, and said, “Yes,” like she signed her life away. She exhaled and leaned back in her seat.
Perry Sr. was very concerned. “Honey, you okay? Can you hear me, sweetheart? Who was that on the phone?”
Laura just sat there for a good two to three minutes in dead silence. She knew her husband and Kim were both talking, but she couldn’t hear a thing. Finally, she snapped out of it and told them what Lucky said.
“You won’t believe who was on the other end of that phone.”
They both asked, “Who?”
“That was Donald Gibson. He said he wants to meet and hand me some evidence that would help our case.”
“You mean to tell me that was Donald and he wants to meet? It doesn’t sound right, baby. What the fuck is going on here?”
“I don’t know, but I guess we will soon find out.”
Perry Sr. pointed his finger at his wife. He looked like he had the devil in his eyes.
Even Kim sat back and held Li’l P tight on her lap. She’d never seen him act this way. The stress of this whole ordeal had to be wearing him down.
“Listen, woman, we are not meeting with that cop. You heard the things he said in that courtroom. He’s a murderer. Who knows what kind of trick he’s trying to pull?”
Kim jumped in. “I think he’s right, Mrs. Coleman. You might want to think about it.”
“Think about what? My baby is gone.” Her voice started cracking. “This man called me and said he has something to give us. Plus, I have some questions of my own. We are meeting tomorrow morning at nine, at Penn Station on Thirty-fourth Street.”
“You never listen to me, woman. You are not going alone. I’m coming with you.”
“I’m not going,” Kim quickly added. “You guys could just fill me in later.”
They all sat quietly for the rest of the ride.
Laura thought about different communication strategies.
Lucky’s hunches were right. Captain, Loose, and Speedy were determined to capture him. They’d hired their own surveillance crew, two brothers who called themselves “The Watcherz.” Their names were Hack and Little Hack, and their rap sheet could stretch a mile. They were the best underground hackers in the game. Their specialty was tracking people down and hacking into systems. They’d made millions helping the mob locate witnesses. It was rumored they hit a bank for about twenty million, right from their living room, and just by hitting the enter key on their keyboard. That was before they both got busted and served over twelve years apiece in federal prison.
The Watcherz were back in business after they had been paroled, but they kept a low profile. They didn’t take those high-paying jobs, because they wanted to stay under the radar.
Until Captain Tuna approached them about the job of tracking down Lucky. Their mission was to find him and the whereabouts of his daughter. The captain wanted Lucky and everything related to him dead.
They bugged the Lincoln Town Car the first day of trial and struck gold. As soon as they heard Laura say Lucky was on the other line, the captain was contacted on his cell phone.
“Who the fuck is this? It better be good. I’m in no fuckin’ mood.”
“We got Lucky,” said Hack.
Tuna’s attitude did a three-sixty. “You did what? Great job. I’ll be right over.”
As soon as Tuna pressed the end button on his cell phone, he speed-dialed Loose.
“Cap, what’s up?”
“The Watcherz, they found our boy.”
“You’re shitting me!” Loose yelled back.
“Find Speedy and meet me at the spot in forty-five minutes.”
The spot was an old, beat-up apartment building on 102nd Street and Lexington Avenue with five floors, each floor with a four-bedroom apartment. Tuna’s uncle owned the building. He rented the fourth and fifth floors to Tuna for his operation, he lived on the third floor, and the second and first floors were rented out to only family members. The fifth floor had nothing but state-of-the-art surveillance equipment, most of it illegal.
The fourth floor was basically a bachelor’s pad/safe house. One room on the fourth floor kept all the money, guns, and drugs. Only the captain knew the combination to the safe. Speedy and Loose Cannon arrived at the spot early so they waited in the car until Tuna pu
lled up. Then they all went in together. They sat down, cracked open a few beers, and listened to the tape, evil smiles on their faces.
“We finally got this muthafucka, Cap. I’m going to cut his fuckin’ tongue out!” Loose yelled.
“I knew he would slip up. Good job, boys. Now find his daughter,” Cap said to The Watcherz. “We got a lot of work to do. The meeting is tomorrow morning, and it’s going to be a madhouse in Penn Station. He picked a good location, but his ass is still fried.”
“Wait a minute, Cap. Play the tape one more time,” Speedy requested.
“We already know the drop. What else we need?”
“You see, Cap, that’s the problem right there. Everything is too easy. Lucky is a lot smarter than that. We all know that.”
After listening to the tape again, Speedy stood up and paced the room back and forth. He knew something was funny about the location. He asked The Watcherz if it was possible to pick up the conversation on the cell phone. They nodded their heads and asked for fifteen to twenty minutes.
The captain and Loose were starting to see Speedy’s point.
Within three minutes, The Watcherz had the cell phone conversation playing through the speakers:
“Okay, listen, I have some bad news. The defense is going to try to file a motion to move the trial to another county. That’s going to hurt your case, if they approve the motion. Let’s meet. I have something to give you. Meet me tomorrow morning in Central Park. You know how to get there?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s meet at nine in the morning on 110th Street and Fifth Avenue. When you get off the phone, I want you to say out loud my name, and a fake address where we’re meeting. Good day, Mrs. Laura. I will see you in the morning. Oh, before I forget, remember, you are being watched. I would say, at least a ninety percent chance, you are. I would come up with other ways to communicate without making it obvious. Good-bye, Mrs. Coleman.”
“Wait. I don’t—”
“Shhhh. I will answer anything you want to know when we meet. Are you coming?”