Final Verdict

by William Bernhardt

  “I was trying to help her.”

  “You were trying to push her out of the tunnels.”

  “As I said, no one has a right to live there.”

  “Did you offer her an alternative residence?”

  “She didn’t want one.”

  “Please answer the question. Did you offer her a different place to live?”

  “Not my job.”

  “Why did you target her?”

  “I didn’t. I wanted everyone out of there. It’s unsanitary.”

  “Is that a judgment call for you to make?”

  “It’s my beat.”

  Dan shook his head. Monumental arrogance, founded on...well, nothing. He’d known many outstanding cops in his time. His father had been one of them. But this guy was definitely not.

  “And when you couldn’t get Mandy to leave on her own, you went after her dog.”

  “That is absolutely untrue.” Banner inched forward. “The dog was not on a leash, thereby in violation of the city municipal code. And it was violent.”

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

  He whipped around. Mandy, seated at the defendant’s table, was muttering her thoughts in a sotto voce stream. Dan’s sister, Dinah, sitting beside Mandy, tried to quiet her. Dinah was taking legal assistant classes at the local community college and seemed to have a real interest—and aptitude—for the subject.

  Judge Quinn looked unamused. “Mr. Pike, you need to control your client.”

  Easy to say... “Yes, your honor. I apologize.”

  “Keep your apologies. What I expect is compliance. If she can’t behave, she’ll be excused from the courtroom. And I’ll issue a fine that I suspect she might find difficult to pay, which will increase her time in jail.”

  Talk about overkill. Was everyone here determined to treat this poor homeless woman like Hannibal Lector? Judge Quinn was new to the bench, swept in during the recent elections. She probably thought her case docket would have something more glamorous than animal-control disputes.

  He walked quietly to the defense table. Mandy was small and wizened, but she hadn’t lost her fire. Two teeth missing on the bottom row. Hair looked like it had been in a cyclone. Loose-fitting clothes. “Mandy, you need to be quiet. You’re interrupting, and it’s pissing off the judge.”

  “Isn’t this my case?”

  “In a way...”

  “Then I got a right to speak.”

  “And you’ll have your chance. Maybe. But this isn’t it.”

  “Don’t let that cop say lies about me. He’s mean. I can tell you all about him.”

  She already had, of course. At length.

  “I agree,” Dinah whispered. Trim figure. Short brown hair. Brown eyes. His mother’s eyes. Dinah had spent some time on the streets herself, till Dan learned to his surprise that he had a half-sister. “He comes on to women. Hassles the ones who won’t cooperate.”

  And he mistreats dogs. That pretty much established him as the worst person to walk the face of the earth. “Try to keep Mandy under control. The next few minutes will be crucial.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Dan bounced up on the toes of his Air Jordans. He’d spent enough time on the preliminaries. It was time to introduce the most important witness. And it wasn’t Banner. Or Mandy.

  He gestured to his partner Jimmy, who stepped outside, then returned a few moments later holding a pet carrier. The high-pitched yipping announced that the key witness had arrived.

  Dan took the carrier, set it down, and slowly removed the pet in question. Mandy’s dog. She had named him Dan.

  The dog leaped into his arms and started licking his face. Did he remember that Dan was the one who rescued him from the shelter?

  Dan had obtained the court’s permission to produce the pooch in advance. Judge Quinn didn’t like it but, given the importance of the dog to the case, it was hard to say no.

  Opposing counsel, Associate DA James Akers, rose to his feet. “Your honor, I know we agreed to the dog’s presence in the courtroom, but I see no reason to remove it from its carrier.”

  Dan pulled a face. “Is my esteemed colleague afraid of a dog?”

  Akers seethed, which of course was the whole point of the remark. “No, your honor, I’m not afraid of a chihuahua. It’s simply a matter of courtroom decorum. We’ve already had”— he glanced at Mandy—“sufficient distractions.”

  “The dog has to be properly identified by the witness,” Dan explained, nuzzling the doggie.

  Judge Quinn rolled her eyes. “I suppose. But get the dog back in the carrier as soon as possible. We don’t want any accidents.”

  Pity that this case, like most municipal matters, was a bench trial. If he flashed this cute doggie at a jury and told them the mean copper wanted to take him away from Mandy, this case would be a slam dunk.

  Dan returned to the witness stand. “Officer Banner, is this the dog in question?”

  “Looks like him.”

  “This is the dog you tried to remove from its owner, correct?”

  “He wasn’t on a leash.”

  “Do you normally stop every time you see a dog that isn’t on a leash? Or was this just because you were trying to get Mandy out of the tunnels?”

  “What difference does it make?” Banner’s jaw jutted forward. “It’s no different from a traffic cop who pulls someone over for a minor infraction because they suspect a records search will yield something more criminal. You use the tools you have to achieve a greater good.”

  “Then you acknowledge that you were trying to get Mandy out of the tunnels. Out of her home.”

  “Do you know how long it’s been since she had a bath? She’s a health hazard.”

  “I understand she’s allowed to shower at a local shelter once a week.”

  “She doesn’t brush her teeth. She doesn’t wash her clothes. Her so-called home, an eight-foot stretch of collected trash, is a dump.”

  “But you didn’t offer her anything better.”

  “I’m not a social worker. Policing my beat is my job.”

  “I would’ve thought taking care of the people on your beat was your job.”

  “Objection.” Akers rose. “Argumentative.”

  “Sustained.” Judge Quinn glanced down at the papers on her desk. “Mr. Pike, I can see where you’re going with this. But the issue is whether the canine in question was violent, which required the officer to take it into his custody. If so, it should be put down, not only for your client’s safety but for the safety of the public at large.”

  Dan pressed the dog close to his face. “Your honor...it’s a chihuahua.” Thank goodness the dog was cooperating. If the mutt took a bite out of his nose, his case was blown.

  “I’ve seen a chihuahua tear a sofa to shreds. I wouldn’t want to see what a mean one could do to a person.”

  Back at the defense table, he heard Mandy start up again. “My precious little doggie wouldn’t hurt—”

  Dinah slapped a hand across her mouth.

  The judge drummed her fingers. “I can’t devote my entire day to this.”

  “Understood.” Dan returned to the witness. “You’re suggesting that this sweet little doggie was violent?”

  “Completely out of control. I had to contain it—”

  “Him.”

  “—whatever. I didn’t have a leash or a muzzle, so I grabbed it.”

  “Did you use excessive force?”

  “I didn’t shoot it, if that’s what you mean. Though the thought crossed my mind.”

  “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “I had to hold that dog for more than ten minutes, and it fought me the whole time. Could’ve done some serious damage if I’d let it.”

  “Did the dog injure you?”

  “No.”

  “Cause you any lingering physical or mental distress?”

  “No. I finally got the dog to my car, then took it to the pound. I tried to give your client a citation, but she resisted and c
aused a scene so I was forced to put her under arrest for disorderly conduct.”

  Dan nodded. “Mandy was just too much for you to handle, huh?”

  “You might be surprised.”

  “First you were threatened by a toy dog. Then by an elderly homeless woman.”

  Banner’s lips pressed tightly together. “You can be sarcastic all you want, mister, but when you wear this uniform, your job is to keep the peace, and that means your neck is on the line 24/7. Your client might’ve had a knife or a gun. That dog could’ve been trained to kill. You can’t be too careful.”

  “Tell me you wouldn’t hurt this poor defenseless pooch.” He thrust the dog toward Banner, who instinctively lurched backward.

  Bit of an overreaction, Dan thought. Was there something here he was missing?

  He heard a pssst! behind him.

  Dinah curled her finger.

  He asked the judge for a moment, then leaned beside his sister. “What?”

  “Look at his eyes.”

  Officer Banner was staring impatiently at them. And...

  Dan smiled. It appeared he was not the only one who was a keen observer of people. Must run in the genes.

  He returned to the witness stand, still toting the dog. “Officer Banner, I’d like to ask a favor.”

  The officer looked suspicious, as he had every reason to be. “What?”

  “Would you hold this dog for a moment?”

  DA Akers was back on his feet. “Your honor, this is ridiculous. Counsel is just wasting time. Trying to humiliate the witness. Making a mockery of the court.”

  “All that, huh?” Dan said. “Just by asking someone to hold a dog.”

  “It’s completely unnecessary and irrelevant.”

  “It isn’t,” Dan said. “The witness claims he took custody of the dog and held him for more than ten minutes and that he suffered no physical distress as a result. I submit that in fact he would never voluntarily hold a dog for anything close to that length of time.”

  “I’m not afraid of a chihuahua!”

  “Let’s test that theory, your honor. Let’s see if he can hold the dog for five minutes.” He looked Banner straight in the eye. “Because I don’t think he can. And I don’t think he did on the day in question, either.”

  “That’s absurd!” Banner bellowed.

  “Then hold the dog.”

  “Fine.” Banner thrust out his arms, then turned his head, as if he were sacrificing himself on an altar.

  Dan lowered the dog into his arms. “Now draw him nearer. Like you’re restraining him.”

  Banner brought the dog closer, though not all that close.

  “Do you own a dog, Officer Banner?”

  “No.”

  “I thought not. My associate noticed that not long after I brought the dog near you, your eyes, previously clear, became cloudy and red. I think you’re allergic to dogs. That’s probably why you dislike them, but more importantly, guarantees you would never pick up this dog and hold him for an extended period of time. You wouldn’t do anything that made you look weak or vulnerable. Your ego wouldn’t allow it.”

  Banner whipped his head around. “Do I have to listen to this?”

  The judge shrugged. “You have to answer his questions. Listening is optional.”

  Dan continued. “You say you took the dog into custody, but Mandy says you kicked the dog”—Dinah gasped—“more than once and it ran off. Mandy wouldn’t stop yelling so you arrested her, figuring no one would believe a homeless woman. The dog later turned up, no thanks to you. You went back later, probably with a friend, found the dog and took it to the pound. But you never personally took control of the dog. You didn’t hold it for one minute, much less ten.”

  “I can’t believe you listen to anything that crazy woman says,” Banner said, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “Look at her. Look how she behaves.”

  “Yes, you were counting on that attitude, weren’t you? We ignore the bag lady, the beggars, the homeless—all the marginalized members of our society. So the bully cop can get away with anything.” He paused. “What you didn’t count on was that this homeless lady has a lawyer friend. Who cares about her very much. How are your eyes doing, Officer?”

  “Just fine, thank you.”

  “Getting a little itchy?”

  “I told you. Fine.”

  “They look red and filmy to me. I bet you want to rub them desperately, but you can’t because if the judge sees how allergic you are, she’ll realize you didn’t hold the dog for ten minutes and this whole paranoid story is your overcompensating macho vengeful revisionist history of your failed attempt to bully a homeless woman and a chihuahua.”

  “Objection!” Akers said.

  “Withdrawn.” Dan’s voice dropped. “But it’s true.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Banner said.

  “We’ll see. You know, some people think chihuahuas are hypoallergenic, but they’re not. No breed is 100% hypoallergenic. I mean, chihuahuas are better than big hairy sheepdogs. Less shedding, less dander. But they can still trigger an allergy. How are you doing, officer? Breathing okay?”

  “I’m fine.” But his eyes were swelling and he was sniffling. His voice sounded congested. “Will you take the dog back now?”

  “Not quite yet. Here’s the thing—though the allergen usually produced by pets is dander, the cause of the allergen is a protein found in the pet’s skin, saliva, and urine. Air filters help, but for people who are extremely allergic, there’s no 100% problem-free pet. Which is why you don’t have a dog, right, officer? And why you didn’t pick up this dog on the day in question, though you lied about it later to cover the fact that you kicked and mistreated the poor puppy due to your pervasive hostility toward animals. And homeless people.”

  “I’m telling you, I’m not allergic.”

  “Your eyes are watering.”

  “That doesn’t—”

  “Your face is red and puffy.”

  “I’m not allergic. I—I just don’t like—I just—I don’t like—”

  And then he sneezed, possibly the most titanic sneeze Dan had heard in his entire life.

  “Take this mutt away from me!” Banner bellowed, wiping his nose and eyes with his elbow.

  “Gladly.” The dog scampered into Dan’s arms. “And your honor, I move that all charges against my client—and the dog—be dropped. And someone get this poor man some Benadryl.”

  Chapter 3

  Detective Jake Kakazu tried not to gape as he stepped out of the elevator on the penthouse level of SweeTech’s downtown office building. Perhaps because of his Oxford education, he had a reputation for being urbane and unflappable. Gaping would not be in keeping with the image. Still...this place was impressive.

  The lobby was richly adorned with mirrors and chandeliers and more gold than Trump Tower. Kakazu had traveled all around the world. He’d seen the Taj Mahal, Notre Dame, the Hagia Sophia, St. Paul’s. This didn’t have the religious or spiritual aspects of those famous sites. This was more a monument to capitalism than spiritualism, or perhaps, given the nature of the man who built it, a gauche monument to ego.

  But still impressive.

  He turned right. The mirrored walls created an infinity effect, making it look as if the corridor extended endlessly toward the vanishing point.

  “This way, I think.” Sergeant Pemberton pointed to the left. Pemberton was a young officer who had worked on many of the cases surrounding St. Pete’s most prominent businessman and philanthropist, Conrad Sweeney. “Are you planning to arrest Sweeney?”

  Kakazu shook his head. “So far, we can’t prove it didn’t happen just as he says.”

  “The guy fell out Sweeney’s window.”

  “Which is probably not how someone as smart as Sweeney would choose to commit a murder. Defenestration is somewhat difficult to hide.”

  Kakazu followed his sergeant down the foyer. A few moments later, a tall red-haired woman emerged from a
previously indiscernible door.

  “Hello, gentlemen. I’m Prudence Hancock. Dr. Sweeney is ready for you.”

  Kakazu nodded. How generous of the great man to make time for mere policemen investigating a murder that occurred on his property. He was somewhat disappointed she had emerged so quickly. He easily could have spent an hour admiring the artwork.

  Without another word, Prudence pivoted and disappeared. He supposed they were intended to follow.

  Sweeney’s office was about the size of Kakazu’s house, and it was just as art-adorned as the elevator lobby. Sculptures poised in the corners. Paintings on the walls.

  After a long trek, they came to an immense desk. More art behind it. An original Basquiat, if he wasn’t mistaken.

  And to the left, a broken window, floor-to-ceiling, currently patched with duct tape and cardboard.

  That must be where it happened. The question was, Why? And of course, Who?

  Conrad Sweeney sat behind the desk, slightly reclining, his fingers steepled before his face. His nose was bandaged but his expression suggested he hadn’t a care in the world, when in fact, Kakazu knew he was experiencing serious financial setbacks and probably on the verge of bankruptcy.

  Sweeney was a large man. His perfectly tailored suit made him appear powerful rather than obese. “Detective Kakazu. Thank you for coming.” Prudence positioned herself behind Sweeney, as if she were his personal color guard.

  “I wanted to see where it happened. Of course, we know where the body landed. But that didn’t tell us much. I think most of the action happened up here.”

  “That is true,” Sweeney said, shaking his head. “So regrettable. I still don’t understand how that man got in here.”

  “You didn’t know him?”

  Sweeney made a slight wincing face. “No. Didn’t look like...my kind of person.”

  “His name was Fabian Fuentes. He’s been linked to the Central American cartel we know has operated in Florida for decades.”

  “I’m not surprised. Why we continue to let these people into our country—” Sweeney stopped short.

  Kakazu arched an eyebrow. Had Sweeney suddenly realized he was speaking to an Asian-American? With a British accent?

  Sweeney cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’ve read my report. I called the police immediately after the incident happened. I didn’t want any confusion or false accusations.”