An Equal Justice
Page 15
She sighed. “Did he ever say anything to you about Marty Lyons?”
“Nothing. But the other night when Benny came to see me, he asked for my help. He said he needed a lawyer. Then he shared this crazy plan with me where he wanted to buy twenty acres of land and develop it into this brand-new village. A safe place for all of the boys and others from the streets. He asked me to help him with the project.”
“Help, how?”
“Purchase the land.”
Jen frowned. “How was Benny going to buy twenty acres of land?”
“No clue. I obviously didn’t take him too seriously. We even talked about how it would cost millions of dollars to develop such a project. Benny asked me to set up an offshore numbered bank account.”
“Did you do it?”
“Yes, the next day. But the account only becomes active with an opening wire transfer. Benny and I discussed how it would have to be a significant amount of money.”
“You think Benny had money somewhere?”
“No, but I think he was planning to get it somehow.”
“You think Benny was at the center of this so-called blackmail that Nick told his girlfriend about?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore.”
Jen picked up all the articles Benny had printed out about David. She then studied the story from Texas Lawyer that listed David as a new litigation hire at Hunter & Kellerman.
“These articles about you were all printed out two months ago,” Jen stated. “But you’ve only known Benny for a few weeks, right?”
“How do you know when they were printed?”
She showed him the bottom of the pages. “They’re marked with a printer tagline. You have to pay for printing at the public library.”
David stared at the tagline. It was a date before he’d ever even met Benny. He considered that thought for a moment. Benny had already known about him before they’d ever had the encounter with the mugger in the alley? How was that possible? Then he thought of something else. He quickly pulled out his phone, opened his web browser.
“What is it?” Jen asked.
“Hold on a sec.” David pulled up YouTube. He then did a search for a local used-car dealership called Joe Mitchell’s, or Crazy Joe’s, as the car dealer called himself in all of his goofy TV commercials—including the one where he was wearing a leotard and wrestling a big muscle-bound guy. That was the commercial that had caught David’s attention the other night in the office kitchen. As expected, Crazy Joe had his own YouTube page. David scrolled down and found the recent commercial. He pressed “Play.” When Crazy Joe had the muscled guy in a headlock, David paused the video and stared right at the guy’s face. Unbelievable. He quickly scanned the credits below the video on the YouTube page and found a name for the wrestler. Clicking on it, he discovered another YouTube page belonging to an actor named Oscar Belfer that showed him in a dozen other local TV commercials.
“He was an actor,” David exclaimed, hardly believing it.
“Who was an actor?”
He handed her his phone. “This is the same guy who tried to mug me in the alley the night Benny saved my life. He’s just an actor, Jen. He’s not a street thug.”
“Why would an actor try to mug you?”
“Because Benny hired him to do it.”
“No way. Benny? I don’t believe it.”
David thought about the gash and the real blood on Benny’s head that night. That wasn’t fake. He’d doctored it up himself. He set his gaze back on the table that was littered with all the bizarre contents from Benny’s bag. “Benny had something big at play here. We need to find out what he was doing.”
“We need to go to the police.”
“I can’t go to the police yet, Jen. What if I’m wrong about all of this? What if Benny’s just a lunatic? What if it’s all speculation and no substance? If I go to the police right now and drag Lyons into the middle of all of this, my days at Hunter and Kellerman are over. I can’t risk that until we find out what’s really going on here with Benny.”
THIRTY
Benny was laid to rest in Oakwood Cemetery, located just outside of downtown proper. An easy walk for most of the street community, which is what David and Jen had in mind. David got there early and watched as a big crowd gradually arrived. There were hundreds of somber street folk, as well as dozens more who likely knew Benny through their volunteer work. Doc had been right. Word spread quickly on the streets. David wondered if he’d even have twenty people attend his burial service should he die tomorrow. He doubted that too many associates from the firm would be there; if they did attend, it would be mainly for show. There certainly wouldn’t be the same genuine tears he already saw in so many eyes now surrounding him at the gravesite.
Benny had clearly loved people. They loved him back.
The sky was appropriately gray, with hints of rain. David stood close to Jen as the pastor from the Church Under the Bridge gave a heartfelt message of hope in Christ in the midst of the chaos and tragedy of our lives and deaths. The message clearly resonated with the crowd. There were a whole lot of loud “Amens” shouted throughout the message. A woman from the church stood up and sang “Amazing Grace” a cappella. David glanced around him. Most of the crowd slept on benches, in alleys, in shelters, under bridges, in boxes, and in sleeping bags in the woods, but when the singer invited them to join her in the singing of the chorus, damn near the entire group belted out, “That saved a wretch like me . . .”
Jen reached over, clasped his hand in hers. He looked at her. She had her eyes closed and was also singing her heart out. David felt a catch in his throat. Their hands felt good linked together. He took in the whole crowd, his eyes passing over so many dirty faces. Like many moments from the past few weeks, David knew this was one he wouldn’t soon forget. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly. He’d arrived in Austin just six weeks ago, ready to conquer the world. Ready to build himself an ivory tower and take great pleasure in all the riches of his new life. A lifelong dream finally realized for the dirt-poor West Texas kid. And, now, everything seemed to be changing—because of Benny. In more ways than one, the old man had unexpectedly swooped into his life and had flipped everything upside down.
Doc stood up, representing the boys from the Camp, and said some meaningful words about their dear friend. Shifty was crying his eyes out. Elvis and Curly had their arms wrapped over each other’s shoulders, as if they were holding each other up. Although they had no official record yet of Benny having served in the navy, other than the photograph they’d found in his belongings, David had hired a local musician to play “Taps.” As he finished, it began to sprinkle. The pastor quickly ended the service with a prayer. As the crowd dispersed, several folks walked over and set different mementos on top of Benny’s casket.
David gave hugs all around to the boys. As the rain started to fall more heavily, David noticed someone standing next to a gray Ford Taurus about fifty yards out on one of the cemetery’s internal roads. He hadn’t been part of the actual service, but he was watching the crowd intently. David squinted, swallowed.
It was the white-haired man wearing the black leather jacket.
THIRTY-ONE
An hour later, David was sitting in a downtown coffee shop. He’d made contact with the actor, Oscar Belfer, who was in Crazy Joe’s TV commercial—the same guy who’d accosted him in the alley a few weeks ago. He was easy to find. The muscle-bound guy had his own crappy acting website. In a brief email exchange, David said he had a job offer but needed to immediately meet in person to discuss it.
Through a front window, David watched as Oscar walked up the sidewalk. David shook his head, couldn’t believe the transformation. The guy looked a lot different from their last engagement. For one, he was wearing normal clothes—blue jeans, T-shirt, brown sport coat, loafers. There was also no dragon tattoo hissing fire up his neck. It had clearly been a fake.
When the guy entered the coffee shop, David flagged him down from hi
s table near the front window. They shook hands, exchanged quick greetings. The guy eyeballed David a bit, probably trying to place him. Although David would never forget the guy’s face, since it had been one of the scariest moments of his life, he doubted the brief encounter had had the same impact on the actor. After all, the alley was dark, and they were only face-to-face for a couple of minutes.
“So what’s the job?” the guy asked, sitting across from David.
David pulled up a photo on his phone—the one Jen had taken with him and Benny standing together the other day. He slid his phone in front of Oscar. In a flash, the actor seemed to recognize Benny and then suddenly realized why David looked so familiar to him.
“Remember me?” David asked.
Oscar nodded but clearly didn’t know what to say. “I’m not looking for any trouble, man. That was just a job for me. You were never in any real jeopardy.”
“Who hired you for the job?”
Oscar put a thick finger on Benny. “The old dude.”
David cocked his head. “You’re telling me this old man was okay with you slamming him up against a metal dumpster and nearly breaking his skull that night?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. Beforehand, he told me to not hold back, that it had to look real. Even if he got injured during it.”
“What else did he tell you?”
Oscar shrugged. “Not much. He contacted me, said he had a job. We met, and at first, I didn’t take him too seriously. I mean, the guy looked like a street bum. But then he put cash on the table in front of me. The old man said he needed me to fake a mugging, to make it all look really scary, but I had to allow him to save the day. He said he was going to jump on me from behind, put me in a choke hold, but that I couldn’t go down too easy. We even spent a half hour working through some of the physical logistics. It was a weird job, I’ll admit, but I’m a broke actor just trying to survive, man, so I took it.”
David sat back in his chair. Benny really had set him up. The old man had staged the entire incident. He’d allowed himself to be beaten to hell in the process. Would Benny really put himself through all that to cultivate a relationship to gain greater access to the firm?
David looked at Oscar. “The old guy ever say why he was doing it?”
“Nope. And I never asked.”
“You ever hear from him again?” David said.
Oscar shook his head. “I’m guessing there is no job offer here?”
David took a $100 bill out of his wallet, put it on the table.
“Thanks for your time.”
THIRTY-TWO
David dropped into his office right at lunch, hoping to avoid an encounter with Marty Lyons at all costs. Not only did he know based off the numerous voice mails and texts his boss had left for him over the past two days that the man was ultra pissed, David was also deeply disturbed by his boss’s interaction with the white-haired man and his potential connection to Nick’s death. But David had no choice but to chance it—he had to dig into the case involving the Upella Group and Zeitler. He’d called Leo, his paralegal, in advance to find out when Lyons was scheduled to be in a meeting and planned to sneak in and out of the office accordingly.
In hushed tones, Leo told him that Lyons was furious at him for not returning his calls or alerting him to his current whereabouts. The partner had come by Leo’s office several times today, asking the paralegal if he’d heard anything from David. David explained to Leo that everything was fine—he had an important family matter he had to immediately address. He apologized if Leo had gotten caught in the cross fire in any way. Leo told him not to worry. Before hanging up, David asked if Leo had ever seen a guy in his thirties with short white hair around the office, possibly wearing a black jacket. Leo said he couldn’t recall anyone like that. David asked Leo to let him know if he ever did.
Timing it just right, David walked into the firm’s lobby and made a beeline down the hallway. He headed straight for the records room. He tried not to make eye contact with others, hoping to avoid any conversations that might delay his exit. Bolting into the records room, he found a clerk sitting at a cubicle with a dozen rows of shelves behind him loaded down with case files. Although he could have had Leo gather these items for him, David didn’t want to put the paralegal’s job in any jeopardy. Leo had a young family, and Lyons had proved to be ruthless with disloyal staff. Plus, David didn’t want anyone at the firm even knowing about his private investigation into the Upella Group.
“Hey, David,” said Andy, the red-haired clerk, “you need something?”
“No, just need to grab a few files myself.”
“I could have brought them over to you.”
“I know, but I’m in a hurry.”
“All right.”
The usual process for getting client material was through an online request. But David didn’t want to check out anything officially. He moved past the clerk, scanned the rows, found the client number for the Upella Group. He pulled several accordion files off the shelf, quickly sorted through them, then grabbed the file for the litigation matter that Nick had been working on with Lyons when he died. David bolted for the door with the file tucked under his arm.
“Hey, David,” Andy called out, “you need to check that out.”
“Bringing it right back,” David said, hitting the hallway before the clerk could say anything else about it.
David walked briskly down the hallway and into the lobby, where he punched the down button for the elevators and shifted his weight back and forth. He could feel sweat beading up on his back. Just when an elevator dinged, he heard an unhappy voice bark out his name from behind. Turning, he found the red face of Marty Lyons glaring at him. David cursed under his breath. Lyons had probably asked staff to alert him if they spotted David.
“I need you in my office right now,” Lyons demanded through clenched teeth.
The Upella Group file under his arm, David reluctantly followed his boss down the hallway. He thought of trying to dump the file somewhere en route to Lyons’s office but couldn’t find an opening without being too obvious.
Lyons shut his office door behind them, stomped over to his desk. David wasn’t sure whether to stand or sit, so he just stood awkwardly in front of his boss’s desk, the sweat on his back now a flowing river. He glanced at the file under his arm, made sure the Upella Group label was not openly showing. He tried to think of something to say if Lyons asked him directly about the file. He was drawing a blank. He couldn’t help but take a quick peek over toward the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves along the left wall. The shelves were stuffed full of hundreds of thick legal books. Lyons basically had his own library. Although David couldn’t immediately spot it, he knew there was a small hidden camera placed somewhere amid all those books. It was still so hard to imagine that Benny had actually planted the camera or even known how it all worked.
Lyons dropped into his chair, again glared at David. “Where the hell have you been?”
David swallowed. “Dealing with the death of a friend, sir. I’m sorry.”
Lyons’s eyes narrowed. “You couldn’t at least call and give me notice?”
There were no condolences from the partner—no surprise. Lyons had proved to be a shallow man. But was he involved with the death of a lawyer?
David shifted his weight. “Again, I apologize, sir. I’ve had my phone off. The whole thing has had me pretty shaken up.”
Lyons erupted. “Yet your grief didn’t keep you from signing on to represent a low-life drug dealer who’s being charged with murder.”
David cocked his head. How did Lyons already know?
“The accused is no drug dealer,” David tried to explain. “He’s a good kid, and he’s innocent.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if he’s innocent,” Lyons countered. “We don’t handle that kind of thing here at Hunter and Kellerman.”
“I’d respectfully like to request an exception, sir. This is important to me.”
/> “I don’t give a damn!” Lyons barked. “The only thing that should be important to you is what’s important to me. You’ll drop this thing immediately, or else.”
“Or else what?” David blurted out, irritated.
It was a foolish comment. He immediately regretted it. But he was on edge, considering the circumstances around Nick’s death. He watched his boss closely, wondering if everything was about to unravel on him. To his credit, Lyons kept his cool. His boss took a deep breath, exhaled, stood, and circled around to the front of his desk, where he leaned against the edge. David pushed the file even farther under his armpit. He felt sweat on his forehead now.
“What are you doing, David? Are you trying to jeopardize your whole future?”
“It’s difficult to explain, sir.”
“Try me. Because you’ve worked too damn hard to get here to throw it all away now. Have we not showered you with praise and thrown gobs of money at you? Is this not everything you told me you wanted for your life? But now you want to jeopardize everything to represent a street kid who should probably be in jail anyway?”
Again, David wondered what Lyons knew. Could his boss know that the white-haired man had shot and killed Benny? David couldn’t be sure—he had no real proof yet. So far, it was all just circumstantial. He needed to walk a fine line here.
“I just want to help someone whom I think is innocent, that’s all.”
“Fine. So help him by finding him another attorney. You barely have your bar license, son. There’s no reason for you to stick your own neck out there and put unwanted attention on the firm by doing this. I need you to drop it today and get back to the real work of this firm. This is where you belong. Not out there dealing with this city’s riffraff.”
David knew that Lyons was probably right. Another criminal attorney could certainly handle the case better—even if he’d promised Larue he would. He thought of Benny, the hidden camera, the hired actor, the surveillance photos. Was it all real? Or had everything they’d found so far somehow been concocted in the mind of an unstable old man? There was still so much uncertainty behind the truth. David had to ask himself if he was truly ready to confront his boss about all this and potentially torpedo his whole future with Hunter & Kellerman.