by Mark Young
‘Thank you, Mr. Milken,’ Browder said. ‘I have nothing further for you, but please wait there as I anticipate that the plaintiff’s may want to question you also.’
But before any cross examination could start, Friedman adjourned.
* * * *
People v Calver - Manhattan Supreme Court
Day 10
As the jury filed back into court I wanted to crawl away and die. My head throbbed as if someone were using it as a drumhead, and I could still taste the stale whiskey in the back of my throat. I hadn’t really slept at all, just endured a kind of tortured, fearful, drunken slumber. And this morning I hadn’t had time to shave, or find a clean shirt, so I guess I looked like any street guy coming out of a week long drunk. My eyes kept trying to close as I tried to concentrate on what the clerk was saying as she asked everyone to stand.
‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict,’ she asked them.
‘Yes,’ the foreman replied.
‘As to count one, the murder of Helena Palmer?’
‘Guilty.’
It was still a shock, even though I knew it was coming. I didn’t bother asking for a poll of the jury, I knew what it would tell me. Stahl was happy though. Hollywood smile and then some, but when I looked over at Daly, who’d turned up for the verdict, there was a kind of speculative look in his eyes, maybe a question mark there. But who was I kidding? It was over for me now.
I didn’t want to cry, not with everyone there watching me, so I just about kept myself together. Then Pascal was there, next to me, as Gonzalez addressed me, and again I knew what was coming.
‘Mr. Calver you will be remanded back to custody on Rikers Island pending sentencing.’
As they led me away, Pascal grabbed my arm and said, ‘I’m gonna get you out, Calver.’
I wrenched my arm away and didn’t bother looking back. What was the point. As they took me down I was thinking: rope or knife.
Chapter 29
Cara wasn’t going to school that day because she’d decided to throw a sickie. Only Christoff was in that morning and he was a soft touch; plus he seemed to be very busy in the kitchen with a load of make-up and photographs. What was all that about she wondered? Anyway, when she’d told him she didn’t feel well and better stay off school, he hadn’t put up much of a fight.
She made sure the bedroom door was firmly closed and then she carefully pulled the smart phone out from under the pillow. She looked over at Rupert sitting at the end of the bed. He seemed to be giving her his nod of approval. She flicked the phone on and watched it light up, then load whatever it was it had to load, and then settle down with its familiar colorful icons strung out across the screen.
She looked up at Rupert again, biting her lip with indecision, then the phone buzzed into life, ring tone sounding very loud in the quietness of the bedroom. She jumped back startled. The screen flashed “unknown caller” and the phone moved about on the surface of the bed as it vibrated. Who could still be calling Daddy? Rupert seemed to be urging her to answer it but she was scared. Her finger hovered over the answer button. She looked at Rupert again, gulped, and pressed the button.
Then she leaned down and said a meek and tentative, ‘hello.’
There was a brief pause as the caller processed the fact it was a child answering the phone, and then a voice came back on the speakerphone loud and friendly. ‘Hi. You must be Cara. This is John. Big friend of your Daddy’s and I have something for you, sweetheart. A present your Daddy left with me to give you. Would you like it?’
Cara looked at Rupert and smiled. She always liked presents and John sounded so friendly. She said, ‘yes. What is it?’
‘Its a surprise, honey, and you only get it if you keep this a secret. Our secret. You mustn’t tell anyone.’
‘But can’t I tell Rupert?’ she said before she could stop herself.
‘Rupert?’
‘My bear, Rupert. Mayn’t I tell him?’
‘Oh yes. You can tell Rupert, but no one else. Deal?’
‘Deal. When can I see it? My present?’
‘I have it right here with me, sweetheart. Are you in the apartment now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Say. How about I take you to the zoo, and I’ll give you your present there. How does that sound?’
‘Cool. May I bring Rupert?’
‘Of course, and make sure you bring the phone with you. But we need to hurry. And its very secret, so you will have to sneak out. Can you do that sweetheart?’
She thought for a moment, then smiled. ‘Yes,’ she said, excitedly. ‘I told Christoff I was sick and couldn’t go to school. I’ll tell him I’m feeling better and am going to go in.’
‘Good. You’re a clever girl, Cara. Come now, and I will be waiting outside, across the road in the big black car. I’m really looking forward to meeting you. See you in a minute, and remember: not a word to anyone; its to be our secret,’ Schmidt said, chilling grin, dead eyes oscillating in his face. It had been a while since he’d killed a child, but it wasn’t something you forgot how to do in hurry he thought with a smirk. He was already sat across from the loft apartments in the big black car, waiting patiently, watching the entrance way like a cat watching a mouse-hole.
* * * *
When she climbed into the big black car, John was funny and made her laugh and he gave her some sweets. He told her they just had to stop off at the magic tower to get her present before they went on to the zoo. The car was bigger than any she had ever been in before and very comfortable. She sat up front, hardly able to see over the dashboard, and Rupert was excited too.
Then the car was nosing into the underground car park. John took her hand and led her into the penthouse private entry area and into the lift. Cara shyly watched him from the corner of her eye. He looked familiar somehow; not his face which was very strange, like one of the Orcs in the fantasy books she read, but his shape. She was sure she had seen it before, not his face, just that strange shape, like a kind of big beach ball with lumps.
John seemed to smile a lot and didn’t say much which was fine. But his eyes looked false to Cara, cold, almost like the eyes of the snake she had seen in the reptile house on a school trip. She cuddled Rupert. She just wanted her present, then she could go back and see Courtney and Morganna, and maybe they’d play together.
John led her out of the lift, through an entrance door, down a corridor and into a small bedroom that looked unused, like a spare room. ‘Wait here,’ John said, and now his smile was gone and his voice sounded different. Harsh and demanding.
As John turned and walked away towards the door, she recognized the shape of his receding back and where she had seen it before. As she heard the lock click, it all came back. The night that Daddy had died in the garage, that was the shape she had seen, through the curtain, under the street lamp, leaving the outside entrance of the garage, about two hours before Courtney had rung their bell. And now she remembered even more; he had got into the same big black car. It had been sitting at the curb, and then he’d driven away. At the time she had thought nothing of it, and then with all the shock she had forgotten and hadn’t mentioned it to the police when they questioned her. They had seemed very sorry and kept repeating the word ’suicide’. She knew what that meant but didn’t believe Daddy would ever have actually killed himself. She was glad he had though, if he had, because he had been a bad man, and he had hurt her so many times, and now that was finished. But maybe John was bad as well and he was going to hurt her too.
She cuddled Rupert. Why had John locked the door she wondered.
* * * *
‘How long we got?’ Pascal asked Christoff as she dumped her jacket and looked around the stuff he had set up in the kitchen. ‘And where is everyone?’
Christoff checked his watch. ‘Everyone’s out, and we got about an hour before Emilio gets here,’ he said. He had been busy in the kitchen. There were big blow-up photographs of Emilio pinned up around the room, and
on the table was a large screen laptop running a filmed clip of Christoff’s meeting with Emilio when he had first come to the apartment to deliver the bread. Christoff said, ‘its on a loop, and I’ve loudened his voice so listen carefully, and get the inflection right. You should only have to say a few words.’
Pascal nodded and glanced at the other stuff on the table. It looked like some very expensive make-up products and there was also a prosthetic chin and a nose. Christoff eyed Pascal up and down critically. ‘Luckily you’re just the right size, but we may have to put some padding around your midriff. Now if you want to strip off and lie back in the chair I can get to work,’
‘You really think you can make me look like Emilio?’ she asked.
‘Enough to get you past those dummies on the desk at K Tower, yeah.’
‘Good enough,’ she said as she stripped down to her underwear and lay back. As Christoff got to work her mind was back on Calver. Okay, she’d known the guilty verdict was a nailed down certainty, but when it came it had still been a shock, and now she was worried. He’d looked so broken, completely defeated, like she’d never seen him before. If she couldn’t find something quick and get him out , she’ didn’t think he’d last long. Soon as you gave up hope in there things went down hill quick, the US penal system being one of the most brutal and unforgiving in the world. So finding something now, maybe in K tower or from Bob Jeffries tech boys , if he’d ever wake up and get back to her, had to be the way. Either could throw up a lead that might crack the case wide open, and all she could do was keep her foot on the gas and keep pushing and praying that something would turn up.
* * * *
Southern District Court
Day 13
Morganna sat in her chair at the plaintiff’s table and watched Angel Milken in the witness box as they waited for the judge to appear. This was to be her first real test as an attorney; cross examination - the hardest of all the legal arts. And this guy had shown he was no doozy; he was a formidable witness, and very, very sharp, even with his advanced years. She would have to be careful, but she would also have to attack. With the throwing out of the testimony of the killings and taking of the jewellery, she had no choice. If they couldn’t shake him, they were done, and he would win, and Hannah would lose, again - and there would be no second chances for her.
‘All rise,’ the bailiff intoned as Judge Friedman entered court and made his way along the bench to his seat.
* * * *
Pascal stared at her image in the mirror Christoff held out for her, and she couldn’t quite believe it was her face staring back. ‘How the fuck did you do it, Christoff?’ she said, marveling at his skill.
‘Encapsulated Pro Gel pieces for the nose and chin, manufactured to the contours of your face from the molds I took. Add in some Screenface eye shadow, M.A.C. black eye liner pencil and some Lancôme color for the skin, dab of pitch black hair dye, and voila,’ he said with a flourish.
‘I have your bread delivery here, sir,’ Pascal said, mimicking the voice she had been listening to on the loop as Christoff had worked on her face.
‘Good. Little bit deeper though,’ Christoff said.
She tried it again. ‘That’s it. Good enough to get you in,’ he said.
Pascal checked her watch. ‘You got the drug ready?’
‘Check.’
Then the buzzer went. They both froze for a second then they were moving, Christoff to the door entry system, and Pascal out of the way, and to pick up some stuff for the operation.
Christoff checked the screen, leaned in, and said, ‘come on up, Emilio. Got some ice cold orange juice waiting for you.’ Then he pressed the entry door release button.
A minute later, Christoff lead Emilio into the living space where the delivery man put his bread basket down and took the proffered large glass of orange juice. ‘Thanks, man,’ he said, taking a long drag on the juice, and looking around the large space.
Christoff picked the basket up and lifted the cover. ‘Hot damn, that smells good,’ he said.
‘Glad you like it, Mr. Wisliceny,’ Emilio said. Then he blinked his eyes a couple of times as he felt the first effects of the drug. He finished the orange juice and handed the glass back to Christoff, swaying slightly on his feet. ‘Wow, man, I suddenly feel sleepy,’ he said, involuntarily plumping himself down on the couch.
‘Are you okay, Emilio? Just sit back and take a moment,’ Christoff said, watching as the man slowly sank under, his eyelids fluttering and then finally closing. Christoff let out a piercing whistle, and Pascal was there in seconds. They quickly undressed Emilio and Pascal donned the uniform. She put the distinctive “Oskars” red liveried cap on which did quite a good job of hiding her face, and then an added bonus; in the top breast pocket of the uniform he had some shades; she put them on as well.
Christoff studied her critically. ‘Hot damn, you look good to go, even if I say so myself.’
She smiled and picked up the bread basket. Christoff dug through Emilio’s wallet and handed her the ID card, and then he tossed her the van keys. ‘Be careful,’ he said.
‘Always,’ she answered as she turned to go, adrenaline starting to surge.
* * * *
Southern District Court
Morganna rose from her seat, watching Milken all the while. ‘Good morning, Mr. Milken,’ she said with a wide smile. Then, ‘I am a Jew. How d’you like that?’
Browder was up in an instant. ‘Really, your honour. This is a courtroom, not a playground. Could Miss Fedler be enjoined to move along and deal with the facts?’
Friedman nodded. ‘Quite. Miss Fedler, in case its escaped your attention, this is a case about some missing jewellery, nothing else. So can we stick to that?’
‘Certainly your honour,’ Morganna said, miffed that her carefully crafted quip had backfired. She had hoped it might provoke Milken in some way, give her an opening, but Browder had protected his client like a good attorney and taken the wind right out of her sails. She studied her notes and turned back to Milken. ‘Just remind us, please. You were born when and where?’
‘I was born in Cologne on 3rd May 1923, as I have already told the court,’ Milken said. He smiled, almost playfully, whilst adding, ‘and by the way, Miss Fedler, I have absolutely no problem with you being a Jew. Some of my best friends here in the city are Jewish.’
Morganna ignored the jibe. ‘Are you sure it wasn’t Dusseldorf, 3rd March 1923?’
‘Absolutely. And to save you a lot of tiresome and repetitive questions, I’ll say it again, Miss Fedler, for the court: I was born Franz Bauer in Cologne, not August Matthes, in Dusseldorf.’
‘Now you joined the Hitler Youth—’
‘Your honour,’ Browder broke in, but Friedman stilled him with a wave.
‘Is this going somewhere, Miss Fedler? Because it looks to me like you’re floundering around, wasting court time with a load of superfluous and irrelevant questions, because you can’t think of anything better to ask. And another thing, which I’m sure they’re still teaching in law school but you may’ve forgotten; when a witness has answered a question, he’s answered the question. So move along.’
As Morganna took her dressing down, Browder and Milken looked on, enjoying her discomfort. She cast a quick glance at the jury and her heart sank. They looked in the main disaffected and bored. It was pretty obvious they wanted her to stop wasting their time and get on with it as well - the judge was right.
If she’d lost them already, and she’d barely even started, where the hell did she go from here? She looked down at her sparse notes, desperate for some inspiration, but nothing was coming.
* * * *
The only phone number Cara knew was Courtney’s. Courtney had made her memorize it. She liked Courtney because Courtney was so different from everyone else; such a strange person. Courtney had promised to take her to the Dojo, whatever that was, and teach her Judo. She unzipped Rupert and pulled out Daddy’s smartphone and slowly typed in Courtney’s numbe
r, but then she heard the lock clicking and the door was opening. She pressed call and slipped the phone back inside Rupert, pulling the zip back.
‘Where’s the phone, sweetheart?’ John said, coming into the room, watching her carefully. ‘You were holding it earlier. Where is it?’
She cuddled Rupert and looked down.
Schmidt slapped her hard across the face, knocking her back onto the bed and sending Rupert flying through the air into the corner of the room. Cara’s huge eyes registered no real shock. Daddy had sometimes hurt her far worse. She wiped a hand across her mouth, watching Schmidt. Then she slowly got up off the bed and went over to collect Rupert. At the window she looked out over the city. She noticed the window was open at the bottom, and she moved up and looked down over the small ledge at the street so far below that the people looked like ants. For a moment she thought about flying with Rupert, just jumping out and leaving the world, like Daddy had.
‘I said, where’s the—’ Schmidt started, but was interrupted by his own phone ringing. He immediately turned away from Cara, pulling the cellphone out of his pocket and answering, voice curt.
As Schmidt spoke on the phone, his back turned, Cara pushed the window open and slowly crawled out onto the ledge, which was about six inches wide. She dragged Rupert out behind her, and then slowly began to edge along the ledge on her bottom, towards the corner of the building.
Chapter 30
As Pascal approached the K Tower security desk, she kept her head down but her step jaunty, bread basket held high. She flipped the plastic pass out in her other hand. It was just the older janitor guy on his own today, reading his paper.
‘Hey, Que pasa, Emilio,’ he said, barely looking up at Pascal, and not looking at all at the proffered card, waving her through to the lifts all in one motion. Then he leaned over and pressed a buzzer on his desk and lazily drawled into the mike, ‘bread delivery coming up’. Then he went back to reading his paper.