Eddie Flynn 02-The Plea

by Steve Cavanagh

  The judge shook his head, his mouth wide now in amazement. Eventually he turned to me and said, ‘What’s your take on this, Mr Flynn?’

  ‘I have no idea what’s going on. I’m just as surprised as you are, Judge. May I see the docu—’

  ‘No,’ said Knox, and his hand thumped down on top of the page. ‘You don’t need to see it, but I will tell you the contents. It’s a statement from my investment agent. I have stocks and shares invested in various portfolios, and my wife deals with the agent and manages these affairs. That’s her domain. I just write the checks. It seems as though I have a small investment in the parent company of Reeler, your client’s business. I knew nothing about this investment before the case started, I can assure you of that.’

  Son of a bitch.

  The DA knew Porter’s destruction tainted the prosecution case. In fact, it sent it flying into a brick wall, and Zader wanted to kill the evidence. If Judge Knox recused himself, the case would have to start all over again. And this time either Porter would be fully prepared for my line of questioning or, more likely, Zader wouldn’t even call him as a witness and would build his case around the rest of the evidence. A fresh start for Zader with no mistakes this time.

  ‘Well, Your Honor, if you didn’t know about this, then I can’t see how you could be biased …’ I said.

  ‘Oh, I can,’ said Judge Knox, giving a look to Zader that conveyed every inch of the judge’s contempt for the DA. If the evidence had gone in the prosecution’s favor, there was no way they would ask the judge to recuse himself. I had a suspicion that Zader knew all about the judge’s investment before the case even started, so that if there was a disaster he had a recusal motion in his back pocket so that he could wipe the slate clean and start again. Sending out the ADA to retrieve Knox’s list of investments was just for show. He’d had this information before the prelim started.

  ‘With respect, Your Honor, the defense has no objection to you continuing with this hearing.’

  ‘Well, of course not,’ said Zader. ‘The defense isn’t going to object because the stock price of Reeler is plummeting every second of this prosecution, and if the defendant has a judge hearing the case who has a financial interest in dismissing the charges and saving the stock price and return on his own investment, well, who wouldn’t want a judge like that? The fact is, Your Honor, if you continue and if the press get ahold of this, the prelim will turn into a farce and your career would be seriously compromised.’

  ‘How dare you lecture me on my career and my professional judgment, and don’t threaten me with the press, Mr Zader. You’re about the width of a page from seeing the inside of a cell. The fact is, despite Mr Flynn’s gracious response, I have no choice but to recuse myself. I’m sorry, gentlemen. I will contact the superior judge and have this case transferred to a new judge in the morning. I’m afraid the prelim will have to start over.’

  It was the right decision, for all the right reasons, but it still left a bad taste in my mouth. I thought that the points against Porter would give David a sympathetic hearing; it was the first in a series of hammer blows to knock out the prosecution’s case. Porter and the air bag was the only hammer blow that I’d found, so far. Now it was gone. Didn’t matter that the press knew about it. The new judge wouldn’t consider it at all unless Zader called Porter as a witness again – and there was no way he’d do that.

  No one spoke. We filed out of Knox’s office, and I saw Zader waiting for me in the corridor.

  ‘You see, Flynn, there is no way to beat me. You can’t beat me. I’m going to blow you away tomorrow, and there isn’t a single thing you can do about it. If necessary, I’ll continue to kick every goddamned judge off this case until I get one who gives me the right result. I’ve also got me some backup. We’re convening a grand jury tomorrow afternoon. So even if you win the prelim tomorrow, I can still go before the grand jury, who will indict Child. You’ve got nothing. Come to me when you want to make a deal.’

  I let Zader walk away, Gerry Sinton following him. Sinton didn’t want to be anywhere near me. That huge hand of Sinton’s fell on Zader’s shoulder. He gave the DA his card, and they talked and walked ever further from earshot. Gerry was building insurance, making plans so that he’d be the first to know if I approached the DA to make a deal. He was probably explaining to Zader that he was really the attorney of record and that any deal would have to go through him. Sinton didn’t want a deal. He wanted a tip-off from the DA so that he could make sure to kill young David before he signed up to bury the firm in exchange for an easy ride for Clara’s murder. I took the opportunity to lose Gerry in the crowd, grabbed David, and made for the side exit of the courtroom, leading to the cells.

  One thing continued to scratch at the back of my head. How did Zader get the goods on Judge Knox? Even if he already had this information before the hearing began, it wouldn’t have been easily obtained. Somebody was helping Zader. Somebody with serious connections.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Exiting the courthouse without being seen proved a lot easier than getting inside. A courthouse security officer called Tommy Biggs led us down to the ground floor from the secure elevator used to move detainees from the cells to the courtroom. I made it my business to know as many security guards, clerks, secretaries, back-office staff, cops, and detention officers as possible. There were several reasons for this – the first was that they were usually pretty good people to get to know when you’re kicking your heels waiting for your client’s case to be called. The added bonus of getting to know these good people is that you realize, in reality, they run the justice system. They do the work. All it takes for the administration of justice is a handful of decent judges out of a bag full of assholes and a bank of good support staff.

  We waited in the dim corridor while Tommy checked that the service bay was clear. He half turned and peeked through the steel door. I wondered if he had to go through a lot of doors sideways. Tommy was a former Mr Universe contestant, a single dad, and one of the finest detention officers I’d ever met. Barry, an ex-cop and friend of mine who’d spent his last years ferrying prisoners from a van to a cell in the old Chambers Street courthouse, had introduced me to Tommy.

  Tommy waved us into the loading area, the secure parking lot where deliveries were made – food, office supplies, and citizens who’d managed to get on the wrong side of the NYPD for whatever reason and got a ride into this area in the back of a prisoner truck. He made his way to the single pedestrian door, which was cut into a block of steel shutters. Tommy made sure there were no reporters waiting by checking the security camera on a bank of monitors beside the door.

  ‘Go. It’s clear,’ said Tommy.

  ‘Thanks, T. I owe you one,’ I said.

  He patted me on the shoulder as I passed him, and we made our way onto the street and straight into another dark sedan, this one a heavy shade of midnight blue; the last car was too hot to use again. Frankie took off before I could even get my door closed.

  We were out. Thankfully, with David and everyone else in one piece. Now I had a little time to think. But instead of running Zader’s moves through my head and thinking about the evidence against David, my mind strayed to Christine. Every piece of ground I’d lost to Zader made the hit on Christine and David more attractive to the firm. They would be desperate now. They would take bigger risks to make sure David didn’t talk.

  I wanted to hold her so bad I could feel the aching in my arms. Amy didn’t need this. She’d been through too much already. I needed to get them somewhere far away and safe.

  ‘What can we do about this prosecution move?’ asked David. ‘Surely we could get the judge back.’

  ‘I don’t think we will. I think the DA has got his chance at a fresh hearing with a clean slate. And he’s gathering the grand jury as backup. This guy is a serious player.’

  ‘Can you beat him?’ asked David.

  ‘Let’s hope we don’t have to find out,’ I said.

  CHAPTER
FORTY-EIGHT

  Holly must’ve left the heater on in her apartment while we were out. When she opened the door, it was like being hit by a blast from an industrial paint dryer. I checked the window and watched the Lizard and Frankie separate and take off on foot, covering loops of our route, making sure we hadn’t been followed. The quivering voice of my wife echoed in my memory – the fear in her throat as I talked her through her cab drive earlier that day. And the sound of Amy crying. I knew her cry – it was my own. And there was nothing I could do about it.

  Holly locked the front door behind us, found another key for a dead bolt, and then slid two security chains across the door. David then approached the door, tried the handle three times, making sure the door was locked. He tapped the security chains and, satisfied, he took off his backpack, unzipped it, and spread out his laptop on the little dining table.

  ‘Sit down, David. I need to know more about this flash drive. You want me to pull off a miracle at the prelim tomorrow – I’m not as confident as you are. There has to be another way to get you and Christine out of this. It’s possible I can swing a deal, if I have more to bargain with.’

  ‘I already told you, the software taps into the firm’s accounts system. It tracks down and monitors the money trail. The feds just need to insert it into the firm’s digital network.’

  His unlined, peachy face didn’t give an inch. His eyes moved naturally, not deliberately fixed, able to shift, but their intensity never wavered. He was telling the truth. Holly gave him another cold can of his favorite energy drink. He popped the tab and poured himself a fresh glass. Holly poured me a cup from the coffeepot, which had now turned the liquid into a bitter, hot mess. The way I like it. I thanked her. She gave me a tight-lipped smile in return and, as she did so, her eyes lingered on David.

  ‘Did you write this software this afternoon?’

  ‘No. I had it already. Before the firm’s security system went live, we had to test the algo and make sure it worked. This software traces the movement of the cash so that we knew the algo was really working. It was a top-level security job, because of the amounts of money involved, so I was the only one allowed to access the algo once it had been coded.’

  ‘And did Gerry Sinton ask you to design this?’

  ‘Yeah. He wanted a backup security system that takes over the firm’s client accounts if their database ever got hacked. Once a credible threat is detected, the system my company installed starts running a series of checks. Thousands of calculations per second. If the system decides there’s a risk, the security algo kicks in and the money travels for seventy-two hours before returning to one secure account. There are hundreds of dormant accounts in the name of Ben Harland – scattered across five different Manhattan banks. The algo selects one of these accounts at random to be the final destination for all of the money.’

  ‘And by the time the money finds its way home, it’s also been washed,’ I said.

  ‘To be honest, at the time I created this algo, that had never occurred to me,’ said Child dispassionately.

  ‘Structuring’ was the term. Albie, an accountant who worked for my pal Jimmy the Hat, used to employ a similar method in what he called the dirty-thirty runs. Splitting down a cash deposit into sums below $10,000 – so the bank doesn’t have to write a report under the Bank Secrecy Act and doesn’t need to file a suspicious activity call with the Financial Security Task Force.

  ‘And only you have access to this algo, outside the firm, I mean?’

  ‘Yeah, the firm insisted on it. I did, too. I added my own little touches so no one can access the nuts and bolts of the program but me. An algo like this is beyond any standard security tech on the market, and it has to be secure, and that means only one pass. The system is designed to run by itself. It doesn’t need updates or maintenance. The firm can use it, but I’m the only one who can pop the hood and access the code that runs the program. But I can only do that from their office, with their knowledge.’

  ‘The firm knows this; that’s why you’re a target. How would the FBI come by that information?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, shrugging.

  ‘What does it take to set off this algorithm?’

  ‘A threat or a command.’

  ‘So, somebody in the firm could push a button to set this off?’

  ‘Sure. It has to have that ability; otherwise there’s nothing to stop a physical robbery. You see, in a threat situation, it’s perfectly legal to move or freeze assets to avoid them being stolen. If the firm is using this as a new method of washing their cash, they’re using my system. So it doesn’t matter what your wife did. As long as she’s not the one operating the system, she hasn’t done anything wrong.’

  ‘But she witnessed documents that authorized the share transfers. That effectively covers up the laundering.’

  My coffee had reached that perfect temperature, and I took a mouthful and leaned back in my chair. David suddenly noticed that perspiration from his glass had dripped onto the table. He pulled a napkin from his pocket, dried the desk, and placed his drink on top of the napkin.

  ‘So you can access the algorithm and find out where the money’s headed?’

  ‘No. Can’t be done from here. It has to be done on their system.’

  There was no way we could get in and out of Harland and Sinton alive. Too damn risky.

  I swept my hair back and locked my fingers behind my neck. The pain in my head had been getting worse every minute, the pressure building again ever since I’d left the courthouse.

  ‘You got any painkillers?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Holly, and began searching cupboards.

  ‘I need this, David. My wife’s at risk. The firm tried to kill her today, just to take me off your case. I don’t want her harmed, and I sure as hell don’t want her to end up in prison just because she got conned by her boss into signing something that she shouldn’t have signed.’

  ‘I feel for your wife. I don’t want anyone to hurt her. But if I’m cleared of these charges, the firm will stop wondering if I’m going to cut a deal with the FBI. That takes the threat away from your wife.’

  His eyes moved rapidly, and I could almost see his pulse hammering a techno beat through the vein in his neck.

  He sniffed, produced another napkin, and blew his nose.

  He didn’t deserve to be sacrificed for Christine. Of course, I would do the time for her, if I could. She’d trusted her boss and had gotten herself into something big and nasty. Zader would never blow the charges on David given the choice, but I wondered if I dangled a full trace history of the money in front of Dell’s face, might he be able to swing something with Zader? And buy Christine immunity? I had to believe that. Right then I couldn’t see any other way out.

  ‘Get me the data, David. I’ll make sure the charges get blown away. Either the FBI drops the charge, or I do it in court. Either way I’ll guarantee you walk away from the murder.’

  Right then I wondered how I would be able to deliver on the promise. I couldn’t even see a plan of attack on the prosecution evidence at this stage. David flopped into the back of his chair, looked at Holly, looked at the screen, and then looked at me.

  ‘That would be a deal, but I already told you, I can’t access the system from here. It has to be done on the Harland and Sinton server, and I can only access that if I’m in their building and I have their Wi-Fi access code. Their mainframe access point is in their conference room. All of their computers, including that one, run on secure Wi-Fi. If I can hack that computer remotely through their Wi-Fi, I can get the data. But we can’t go to their office. We’d never make it out.’

  Harland and Sinton occupied eight floors in one of the premier skyscrapers in Manhattan. Once we went in there, chances were we’d never been seen again. Unless there was some way to make sure the firm’s security team wouldn’t make a move.

  ‘I think I know someone who can help us,’ I said.

  I dialed a number from memory and waited. M
y call was answered by a female voice that sounded like silk being dragged over smooth pebbles.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘It’s me. I’ve got a job.’

  ‘Well, hi to you too, honey. It’s great to hear from you, but I thought you’d gone straight. Big-shot lawyer and all. You still in the game?’

  ‘Always, Boo. Always.’ Boo was a former hooker, and very active con artist, who’d been a friend for many years. I’d had an idea about how to get in and out of Harland and Sinton.

  ‘Say, you still friendly with the guy who used to park his van outside your apartment?’

  ‘I always stay friendly with those kinds of people.’

  ‘Great. I need him, his equipment, and his van. You, too.’

  ‘Sounds exciting. What’s the cut?’

  ‘Call it a favor, but I’ll make sure you’re compensated. I should tell you, it’s dangerous.’

  She paused, her breath quick and expectant.

  ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way,’ she said.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  25 hours until the shot

  Holly drove a car that was smaller than my briefcase. A little Honda that smelled of makeup and bubble gum. The Lizard followed behind us, David sitting low in the passenger seat of the Lizard’s new, black Transit. We pulled in at the pier and waited for Boo. Clouds spoiled the full moon. It was past eight, and I’d called Gerry Sinton from a pay phone on Ninety-Eighth Street and told him I was bringing the file and the client to their offices at seven thirty for a strategy meeting.

  While we waited, I thought over the evidence against David and wondered how the hell I was going to challenge it the next morning. I put it out of my mind by calling Christine. She said she and Amy were fine. They’d ordered pizza and hadn’t left the hotel. I could tell it was bullshit. Amy was crying softly in the background, even with the TV turned up to drown out the noise. My jaw worked at the anger building inside me. Eventually, Christine relented.