Collision Course (A Josh Williams Novel) (10 page)

Josh quickly poured him another and refilled his vodka.

"She looked to me with those eyes that said I want you, I want you to be first, I want you to be what I remember. I thought for the first time in my life about someone else before myself, how can I make this good for her, not about me, how can I make her happy...."

Karen held Frank’s hand, looking through her teary eyes.

"Frank, I never knew this about you. You care. You are, well, human."

"Karen, I know I come here and talk to my friend, act the fool, and most people think I am just crazy, but there was a time when I had a moment....a moment that just changes your life...."

Karen held her glass up to Josh and shook the ice cubes in it.

"Okay, but we are splitting tips."

"In this fucking place, with cops, Firemen, and drunks, oops sorry Frank."

"No, no, that's what I am; I have been practicing for many years. I am glad you have a whole class description for me."

"Between you and your other cop and firemen friends, the sum total of my tips is three dollars and twenty-five offers for becoming a friend with benefits."

"Frank, is she still alive, do you see her?"

"In my mind, and in my very soul, I do. She is forever there, she touched my heart, she changed me."

"So, what happened?"

"We went down below, we were amazing together, it was incredible, and then that one moment of clarity, when the perfect thought occurs, that one chance to do something for another human being that no one will ever be able to do again, that one chance to be unforgettable."

Karen was openly weeping.

Josh walked over to the other side of the bar and was picking out a song on the jukebox.

"So I thought, with all she's been through, all she has endured, all she gave up devoting herself as a Bride of Christ, whatever the fuck that means,....soon she faces an examination, a violation of her person that has no compassion, no feeling, no....well......love behind it"

The music on the jukebox started.

Frank bowed his head.

"Frank," Karen said in a whisper, "what did you do?"

"Well," draining the beer, "I figured some Groin-o-cologist was gonna be sticking his finger in her ass so I rolled her over, lubed up ole Woody Johnson, and blazed the trail."

…and the music played, ‘I see a Bad Moon arisin'...’

A few moments later, the owner walked in. Karen had Josh and Frank cornered, swinging a pool cue, screaming, "You fucking phony, lying pieces of shit, I am going stuff this up your ass!"

The owner, having vast experience in these matters, decided now would be a good time to go to the bank for change. Karen had everything under control. He turned around, got back in his car, and went for a long ride.

The
phone rang in the SIU office. "SIU, Sergeant Williams."

"Tell Hamlin to call her friend at the AG's, there's something you need to know." The line went dead.

A moment later, Hamlin came in.

"So, how's my new secretary doing? Go get me a coffee and the newspaper, and then go clean my car."

Without looking, Josh replied, "Sure, whatever you need...”

Hamlin stared, "What's this, no smart-ass reply? No fuck you Lieutenant go get your own coffee? Can it be you are housebroken?"

Josh glanced up, "Sorry, Lieutenant, I was just thinking about how long it's taking for the AG to put this in front of the grand jury. I mean it’s been 6 weeks now, I can't stand sitting here answering phones anymore."

Hamlin sat down, looking at the files on her desk for a moment, "Come on Josh you know it takes time. Want me to reach out to someone?"

"Oh yeah, I just got a call, didn't leave a name. He said tell Hamlin to call her friend at the AG's office there's something you need to know."

Hamlin, annoyed, stood. "And you were going to tell me this when?"

"I didn't think anything about it, just somebody fucking with me."

Hamlin took out her cell phone, walked over to close the office door, and made the call.

"
Are
you fucking kidding me? What the fuck do the Feds see in this? This is all bullshit because of that political whore Collucci. Son-of-a-bitch wants to be a Senator and thinks this bullshit will help him. Thanks Tommy, I owe you one." Hamlin clicked off the cell.

Josh stared at Hamlin, "Now I know this day is about to go downhill, what the hell was that all about?"

Hamlin went over to his desk and sat on the corner, "The US Attorney's Office requested the shooting not be presented to the Providence County Grand jury. They're also moving to take Ventraglia as a death penalty case."

"And why would they do that?"

"Because that political whore of a US Attorney knows he isn't getting reappointed under a Democratic President and has decided to run for the Senate. What better way to get free press, and political capital, than by taking a witch-hunt civil rights case against a cop and a death penalty case for the three murders."

Josh just shook his head.

Hamlin stood up and walked to window, "By not letting the Providence County Grand jury return a No True Bill on the shooting and putting the case before a Federal Grand jury, he gets to make a big splash on his 'Justice for Everyone' campaign. It is a slam-dunk.

The district is primarily minority, distrusting of the police, and they tend to favor the death penalty. He will make it look as if he is preventing a cover-up for taking on the "code of silence,” adding fuel to the fire. He charges the white cop and kills the white bad guy. As a bonus, he gets his face splashed on all the local and national news stations."

Reaching for her portable radio, "Code of silence my ass," pointing the antenna toward the office door, "you can't get some of these guys to keep their mouth shut for anything. Too busy kissing some politicians ass trying to get promoted."

Chris was fuming. "I'll tell you something else; this is payback for you locking up the Bishop's brother on that DUI. Bet you did not know this, Collucci is the Bishop's first cousin. You're getting your ass handed to you for politics and payback."

Josh got up and started toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"For a ride, I need to sort this out."

"I am coming with you; I have some people we need to see that will help us."

"Us? Chris, I do not want you drawn into this. It's my problem, I'll think of something..."

"No, this is our problem partner. Look, I know there is all sorts of shit going on in your life. Some of it I can't help with, but this I can. You would do the same for me. Lose the martyr syndrome. Let's go talk to a defense lawyer who will bury this bullshit case. I know just the guy."

Built in 1913 in downtown Providence, The Turks Head building's iconic, Fu Manchu mustachioed, Crescent emblazoned, Turban wearing figurehead, looks out menacingly from the curved front of the building over the Financial District as if ready to pounce on unsuspecting passersby.

Josh and Chris headed into the Westminster Street entrance and up to the seventh floor. Entering the first glass doorway to the right of the elevator, no indication of the occupant other than an etched image of a hawk, a hanging bell on the doorway rang.

They came into a small, unoccupied reception area. A voice from an inner office said, "Be right out, make yourselves comfortable."

Looking around, it was apparent that comfortable was a relative term. In addition to the one desk and chair, there was one other chair covered with law books and files, a small table and lamp, and several boxes of files piled in front of a ceiling to floor bookcase jammed full of law books and, of all things, binders of comic books.

The phone on the receptionist's desk rang. Again, the disembodied voice said, "Would you mind answering that? Just take a message."

Josh looked at Chris, smiled, walked to the desk, and picked up the phone, "Hello, law offices."

"Wow," a female voice replied, "Hawk found one that can use multi-syllable words. Wait, what is this? You are male. Has Hawk changed teams? Hmm, May I speak to the good barrister."

Josh answered, "He asked me to take a message."

"He?" the woman asked, "He? Don't you even know his name? Well no matter, you will not last long. My guess is you are just there while the latest bubblehead recovers from breast augmentation surgery. Tell him to call his former wife, number 3 to be precise, and tell him to please call today."

"I'd be happy to; may I have today's number?" Josh replied, smiling at Chris.

"Ah, I see. A smart-ass as well. Listen to me whatever your name is. Dispense with the sarcasm, tell Mr. Bennett, that is his name, to call Mrs. Bennett the third, tell him to call today, got that?" Abruptly hanging up.

Josh saw a notepad and wrote
, Call wife number 3, you should have stopped at number 2
. Showing the note to Chris, he placed it next to the phone.

Josh sat on the corner of the desk while Chris started looking at the comic books. She pulled one from the shelf, held it up for Josh to see, 'Buxom Bombshells from Mars,' and started to leaf through it.

The voice called out from the back, "be right there." A moment later, a young woman with unearthly blonde hair, bearing a remarkable body double image of the comic book cover, proportionally at least, came into the office, and straightened her skirt. She took up a position at the desk, adjusted the nameplate that identified her as Tiffany, looked at Josh's note as if written in a foreign language, shrugged her shoulders, and put it on the corner of the desk.

She then looked at Josh, smiled, and said, "Do you have an appointment with Mr. Bennett?"

Chris walked over, took out her badge and ID and flashed them in the woman’s face. "This says we don't need an appointment. Shouldn't you be in class, or homeroom, somewhere?"

The girl, now even more confused than normal, said, "My Pilates class is after work, not during work."

"Ah," replied Chris, "well, Tiffany, would you please inform Mr. Bennett that Lieutenant Hamlin and Sergeant Williams are here to see him on a very important and confidential matter. You do know what that means, right?"

"Of course I do," looking offended. "It means Mr. Bennett will close the door so if anybody comes in they won't hear you speaking to him. He closes the door all the time for this stuff. I don't listen anyway. I have things to do, you know."

"I am sure you do Tiffany, now please, let him know we are waiting."

Tiffany then went to the computer keyboard and began typing, one finger at a time.

"What are you doing?" Chris asked.

"My job, I am supposed to log in all visitors in this computer so we can track Mr. Bennett's time." Returning to screen and concentrating on trying to spell, 'lootenant', as Josh looked on amused.

Josh, smiling at this compelling interaction said, "So Tiffany how long have you been Mr. Bennett's, ah, secretary?"

She looked up, ignoring Chris, smiling at Josh. "I am not his secretary, I am his legal assistant. I went to Wentwood Technical School for Legal Assistant Professional training."

Josh said "Ah, so you are L A P certified then, hmm, impressive." Looking at Chris, "Lieutenant, this is a professional L A P certified assistant, please be respectful." Turning back to Tiffany, "Please forgive her, she studied at some small girl's school and doesn't have your level of educational credentials."

Tiffany nodded and said, "I didn't get, what was that, credentials? But I do have a certificate of completion. Mr. Bennett thinks I can get into law school someday with my experience here. Please wait and I will see if Mr. Bennett is available."

Chris looked at her and said "Tiffany, you tell Mr. Bennett that I said he is available and I am coming in there one way or the other."

Tiffany stared back toward Chris, Josh got between them and whispered, "Tif, can I call you that? Try to be understanding.” Gesturing to Chris, “she is an older woman and going through the change." Winking at her.

Chris, close enough to hear this, said, "Josh, will you knock it off, we need to get in there."

Josh smiled. "Not to worry L T, my friend Tiffany is going to get us in, right?"

Tiffany nodded and went into the back office; a moment later, she came back and told them they could go in. As she passed Josh, she whispered in his ear.

As they went down the hall, Chris looked at him and asked, "What did your airhead friend say?"

Josh smiled and said, "She told me she turned up the air conditioning because she remembered when her Grandmother went through the 'change."

"You know smart-ass, I am glad you find yourself so damn amusing."

Harrison
"Hawk" Bennett liked to say his nickname came from his predator-like instincts evidenced by his survival of three tours in Viet Nam as a member of a Special Forces "A" team. His time in Nam earned him a Silver Star, Bronze Star, and three Purple Hearts.

Brave heart he was, but the name came from his single-minded pursuit of women.

He possessed three other important characteristics.

He was brilliant.

He was charismatic.

He did not give a shit what anyone thought.

Chris and Josh walked into the back office. On the wall was a poster of Jimi Hendrix, a Viet Cong flag bearing several holes, and a worn, faded Green Beret.

Bennett, his back to the door, was swaying to the music of Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing."

"Hey Chris, wanna fuck?' Bennett said, without turning around.

"I am pretty sure she wouldn't want to fuck a dinosaur like you, asshole." Josh interjected.

"You mean, my boy, again." Bennett answered.

"No, ever." Raising an eyebrow at Chris and back at Bennett "What the fuck would anyone see in you?"

Bennett, turning to look over his shoulder, said, "Hmm, Chris, is this your latest project, a retarded Neanderthal?"

Josh looked at Chris, then back at Bennett, and then saw the smile start to cross her face.

"Very fucking funny, what'd you think I was going to do come to the rescue of your dubious chastity and punch this dried up old fart?" Josh folded his arms and leaned back on Bennett's desk.

"I would encourage you, Mr. Neanderthal, to reconsider those actions. You might find yourself embarrassed." Bennett replied.

Josh just shook his head and laughed.

"No really," Bennett moved closer, "never ever underestimate someone like me."

Josh rose from the desk.

"Don't do it Josh, he is not as he appears." Chris warned.

Josh laughed, "You mean he's not a septuagenarian dinosaur? He can't even...”

Josh never saw the hands move.

Next thing he knew he was bent over the desk, arms pinned behind him, with Bennett mimicking a prison shower scene.

"What the fuck! Let me go, you motherfucker or I'll..."

"You'll what Mr. Neanderthal, teach me a lesson?" Bennett smiled. "I doubt very much I can learn anything from you right now."

"Okay Tarzan, enough with the macho man act, let him go he needs your expert legal assistance, not a lesson in humility." Chris said.

"Not until this young man expresses appropriate remorse and respect for his elders," Bennett replied.

"I'll show you respect you motherfucker, I am gonna, ouch, son-of-a-bitch that hurts, okay, okay, you win. Can you show me how to do this?" Josh conceded.

Bennett released the hold, turned Josh around and took his hand, "it takes a big man to admit his mistake and seek guidance from those responsible for his humiliation..."

Josh interrupted "I wasn't humiliated, I was...."

Bennett resumed his prison shower motion. Josh and Chris both started laughing.

"Okay, I stand before you a humbled, humiliated, and chastised person seeking," looking at Chris. "What is it I am seeking here?"

Chris walked over to Bennett, "The US Attorney is trying to fuck Josh over in order to get elected to Congress, we're not going to let that happen are we Hawk?"

Bennett walked over to the desk, leaned back, and closed his eyes, pausing for a moment.

"Okay Josh, I don't know what you did to put yourself in the target cross-hairs of Mr. Collucci, and I don't care. That son-of-a-bitch is a boil on the ass of society and I would like nothing better than to lance it with a fucking bayonet."

"But wouldn't the bayonet hurt society's ass more than the boil?" Josh asked, smiling.

"The Neanderthal has a sense of humor, there may be hope for him yet," Bennett replied, "okay, let's go somewhere and you can tell me the story," walking to the office door. "Tiffany, get your ass in here, I need legal assistant professional type help."

Turning back to face Josh, "I know Chris wouldn't appreciate it, but Tiff does have a nice ass, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, now that you mention it, yes she does, too bad those assets fade with age, just look at our mutual friend here," turning to Chris and smiling.

Bennett grinned, "You know I may have engaged in a bit of underestimating myself, Josh. You apparently do have some redeeming characteristics. How is it that the old broad outranks you?"

"This old broad is ready to start dealing with the problem as soon as you two new fraternity brothers are ready," Chris said, her voice climbing for emphasis.

"My, my Chris calm down, we are going to go over to Hemenway's as soon as Tiff," raising his voice and turning toward the door, "gets her ass in here and gets my car sent up."

"Why don't we just walk over?" Josh asked.

"I would, but I will be headed home right after and thought to save myself the walk back." Hawk answered.

"Well hurry the hell up will you, I ain't got all day." Chris said.

"You'll have to excuse her Hawk, may I call you that?" Josh asked

Hawk nodded.

"She's going through the change." Josh said, smiling.

"Again?" Hawk answered

"Fuck you two," Chris cursed, "I am out of here." Heading out the door, she passed Tiffany in the hallway.

Tiffany handed her a small plastic sandwich bag with several tea bags, "My grandma would make ice tea with this blend, and it helped her get through the, well you know..."

Chris entertained the idea of shoving the bag down Tiffany's throat, but reconsidered. The girl was not responsible for Josh's idiocy; she was just trying to be nice.

The three jumped into Hawk's car and headed to Hemenways.

Hawk, Chris, and Josh walked into Hemenway's, a fixture downtown. Housed in a gleaming metal and glass high-rise building surrounded by windows, it overlooked the city.

It was strategically located within walking distance of the Frank Licht Judicial Center, the Department of the Attorney General, The US Attorney's Office, the US District Federal Courthouse, numerous business and financial center offices, and Brown University. It attracted a broad spectrum of people.

At any given point in time, Judges, Prosecutors, Defense Lawyers, cops, Court clerks, Brown professors, and the occasional tourist would be at the bar or one of the tables.

The hostess came over to Hawk, wrapped him in a very enthusiastic hug, smiled as she removed his hands from her rather nice ass. Nodding toward Chris and Josh she said, "Well, I see we have some new friends of Hawk's, don't let him use the 'I forgot my wallet' routine when the check comes, he has an open account here and can well afford it."

"Ah, Miranda, you are so considerate. When will we be getting together again? I so enjoy your, ah, enthusiasm."

"Ah Hawk, you have such high and unrealized expectations. I assume you are in between spouses to cheat on so there'd be no thrill in it." Laughing and walking toward the bar, "I am safe to assume a table near the common folk is beneath your high standards. So it's the bar of course."

As they walked toward the bar, Josh looked at the view of hostess' attractive return to her duty station, "You know Hawk, I suppose your non-stop effort at screwing anything that moves, just by the number of attempts, sometimes yields success. ‘ Cuz it can't be your looks or personality."

"Ah, and the Neanderthal continues to amuse. Order a drink my boy and perhaps, just perhaps, I will let you in on my secret." Hawk smiled, "Chris can attest to the power of my charms, though she will deny it."

"Leave me out of this locker room banter," Chris replied.

"She has never been able to let me go," Hawk winked, "once they been Hawked, they are done"

"If you were the last person on earth I wouldn't." Chris retorted.

Hawk turned to Josh, his back to Chris, and mouthed the words, "As they age, they regret giving me up." Turning back to Chris, he continued, "such anger Chris, I know you can't forget our time together, but it's over, let me go woman, there are others with more pressing needs."

Josh was starting to get a kick out of Hawk. It wasn't often someone could rattle Chris's cage. He thought this guy must be some great lawyer for Chris to sit here and listen to this.
Unless...no, can't be...well maybe
.

Josh and Hawk jostled for the corner seat, facing the door.

While they engaged in their manly competition, Chris sat in the seat and said something to the bartender. After hearing his response, she ordered a Single Malt Scotch in a chilled down glass.

She liked it cold, but not watered down.

"I have just the thing for you." The bartender said, flirting with her.

"That remains to be seen," she retorted and turned to look as Hawk and Josh stared at her.

"Single Malt?" Hawk asked. I do not recall that being one of your drinks. You strike me as a light beer from the bottle girl."

"Well, Pablo, the bartender's name is Pablo by the way, suggested it when I asked for the best drink in the house, since you are buying." Smiling smugly.

"I know his name, I pay his mortgage with my bar bills. Will you and Pablo be adding a room to my bill as well, or will you just mount him in the car as usual?"

"Jealousy does not become you Hawk." Turning back to watch the bartender work his magic.

Pablo returned a short time later with what appeared to be a fish bowl full of ice with the glass of single malt seated in a depression in the ice. Spending several moments extolling the virtue of this particular malt, its various aromas and flavors.

"Any Scotsman would faint at the sight of this abomination." Hawk interjected.

"And what can I get you gentlemen? My friend Chris here says you are very good friends of hers as well." Pablo smiled.

"Chardonnay," Josh said, "Cake Bread Cellars. Might as well bring the bottle."

"What's this?" Hawk asked, "the lady with a man's drink, the Neanderthal with a lady's drink, what's this world coming to? Perhaps I should have a Cosmo."

"Coming right up," Pablo replied.

"Hold on, son," Hawk commanded, "You know what I would like, a Cold River Vodka Martini, very dry, frostbite cold," shaking his head. "Did you really think I'd drink a Cosmopolitan?"

"I wouldn't have been shocked." Pablo replied, winking at Chris and heading off.

"Okay," Hawk said as he and Josh sat down, "tell me the story, from the beginning, do not leave out anything. I want to know everything you thought, saw, smelled, heard, tasted, whatever. I need for you to let me see what transpired through your eyes."

Josh took a sip of his wine, composed his thoughts, and began to relive the day.

"Chris and I were on our way back from a meeting and we heard the initial call for a shooting at Kent Farm," Josh said, relating the moments leading up to his first seeing Machado.

“...As we pulled up, I spotted a guy matching the description of the suspect running on..."

"What was that description? Why did he match it?" Hawk interrupted, "All of it Josh, all of it is critical."

"Dispatch put out the suspect was a black male, blue-hooded sweatshirt, armed with a sawed-off shotgun, last seen running toward John Street. As we came down Grove, I saw him. He saw us and ran toward Saint Domenick's Church.

I bailed out of the car and went after him. I radioed in the foot pursuit and saw him go in the front door of the church, then called for units to seal off the building, and went in after him."

"Did you see a weapon?"

"No." Josh replied, voice rising

"How do you know he saw you, did he point at you, did he stop dead in his tracks and yell oh lordy there's the poh-lice, I better run to church?"

"No, what the fuck Hawk, I am telling you what I did," Josh replied.

"I know that, and I am on your side, but the US Attorney is going to look for a motive that affirms his case. He wants to find evil intent on your part that you chased and shot an unarmed man.

He wants to find that reason, sweeten it up with a racial motivation. He wants you to hand him your assumption by the white cop that the running black guy is naturally guilty of something.

Moreover, at this point, you have given him a good one. You were chasing a black person that was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, no weapon visible, who ran into a church. Not a bar, not a stolen car, not a roomful of gang members, a Goddamn church. And that's the issue at this point." Hawk started taking some notes, motioning for Josh to wait.

Josh stared for a moment.
Hawk was right. They are going to twist this into a Rodney King encounter.

"Why didn't you wait for the other officers? Why risk going in alone?" Hawk asked.

"I thought someone might be in the church. They leave the doors open so people can go in and pray. I was worried...."