JUSTICE REBORN (A Charlie Taylor Novel Book 1) (22 page)

Only three people occupied the room, but
his chamber office felt crowded.

Even in the late afternoon, the hot sun
forced the Judge to keep all the drapes pulled shut. Stephen looked in Kate’s
direction but avoided direct eye contact and kept his voice neutral, for him
she would always be an attractive woman. She’d been divorced for some time, but
he knew he would never follow through on his feelings. He thought about their
affair and how it fit the classic pattern: an explosion of reckless passion,
then more intimate lovemaking, followed by a more sedate period. When a friend
warned them their affair could soon become common knowledge, they walked away
from each other, a mutual decision. The problem was the feelings did not
disappear as quickly.

Now years later, he’s selected her for his
Board. A wise decision? At times his desire flared and this concerned him. She
never gave him any indication she would be interested in resuming an affair.
Stephen knew it was over, time to grow up. His wife remained steady as a rock,
a political strength and could work a room better than him. No way would he
endanger that support.

Kate and Janice settled in his office; the
time arrived to assess progress on the Dr. Max interrogation. Both ladies
looked haggard, as if they had missed numerous hours of sleep. While the Judge
reviewed the reports on his screen, Kate’s memory took a fast trip, and she
remembered the first time she saw him.

 She never told him, maybe she never
admitted it to herself until now, but there’d been an immediate and strong
attraction; he was tall with an athletic frame and had a reputation as someone
destined for success. Even today, she found it hard to believe that the one
night led to such an explosive and wild affair. She often regretted the mutual
decision to end it. A stern Stephen never tried to lure her back; did he regret
the decision?  Well, at least she had Sonja, a daughter who was a first-class
student.

The Judge finished reading the report and
looked across his desk at the two women. Janice a tall, handsome woman, in her
mid-20s, maintained an active social live on her way to becoming one the best
forensic technicians in the country; she would soon be doing S3 interrogations
with Emma. Kate explained the results of the S1 interrogations of both Sally
Grovernor and Dr.Max.

“Judge, according to the results of S1 both
stories are true. We’ve reviewed the recordings and watched both people respond
to questions and react to challenges. Everything appears correct. I can’t
detect any anomalies. Janice, do you want to add anything?”

Janice spoke softly but with the confidence
of a well-trained technician.

“I can only say what we all know: the next
step will be to proceed to an S2. Generally we only proceed to an S2 when an
individual is fighting off the S1. These are normally addicts with a long
history of drug abuse; they have higher tolerance levels and need a different
concentration.

 Also, when an individual is struggling
during the interrogation, it is obvious; he fights every answer and responds
with abbreviated bursts, short disconnected phrases. Our monitors detect the
stress with high blood pressure and extensive sweating; we detect the anomaly
and know the results from that S1 may not be accurate. This was not the case
with Sally or Dr. Max. They both provided standard responses, and it’s all
normal.”

Kate knew what the Judge wanted to hear.
“Stephen, I don’t know how Dr. Max manipulated the system. I know he’s yoga
master, and this may be a factor. We’ll start research in this direction.
Regulations require 24 hours for the S1 drugs to leave their systems and then
we can proceed with an S2 Interrogation. If our research doesn’t provide any
immediate answers, I wonder: could you proclaim an additional delay is
necessary?”

The Judge sensed the frustration but as
always lived with the standards. “Unless you can come up with a medical reason
to prove it’s unsafe to proceed, you have to stick with the 24 hour time limit;
we have no alternative and remember Dr. Max knows all the medical implications
so we can’t run a fast one by him….sorry.”

“I do have one avenue which may prove of
value. A visitor from Japan who is a yoga expert and has also studied and lived
in India for many years. As good as Max? I don’t know.

This medical doctor showed up at my door
yesterday.  I knew he was coming but completely forgot; Japan wants to assess
our approach, witness the Death Row clearance and all aspects of Justice
Reborn.

He’s extremely intelligent and might be
able to provide some insight into yoga as a possible answer to fighting off the
impact of our S1 drugs. I’ll try to talk him into an S1 interrogation and see
if his yoga skills will allow him to control the session. If it sounds like I
am grasping …well I am!”

No one spoke; the room remained silent for
some time and finally Stephen summarized.

“As you both know, these results are
shattering. You have to find an answer. I don’t have to explain the
implications. Proceed with the S2 and please feed me information as it unfolds,
even preliminary observations. Don’t wait for a final report.

 I’ve two contacts at another university
and will talk to them about other experts we may be able to solicit for help. I
have to remain optimistic. I won’t keep you any longer.”

It was an abrupt ending. Stephen watched
both ladies leave, not a good ending; their body language spelled: defeat.

What he never told them: he’d given the
problem to Charlie when it first surfaced, a clandestine mission, assigned late
in the evening in his home office. Maybe this was beyond Charlie’s abilities.
But the Judge desperately needed someone to take an unconventional approach,
apart from technology, someone who would go outside the regular boundaries to
abuse rank and privilege in search of the answers.

 Charlie numerous contacts reached beyond
the academic community. A desperate move. At times, he seconded guessed his own
decision. Why had he bypassed the Chief? Another questionable move but the
secret recordings had erased all organizational lines.

In the end, he knew he would have to pick
up all the pieces, and it appeared most of the pieces would belong to Charlie,
who was beginning to look like he was ready for two or three days of hard
drinking.

I’m in a mood dangerous to myself and my
surroundings.

Wes recognizes my disposition and dispenses
with any conversation; we’re in the elevator heading down to the ground floor
and back to my office. Moments ago, we finished 30 bloody minutes with the
Chief, and he’s not pleased with the two high-profile cases. I tried to explain
that we may be on to something, but he merely kept ranting; he sure as hell was
not listening. What the hell is wrong with the guy? I think he keeps me around
so he can blow off steam at will, knowing I’m vulnerable and not likely to
deliver a vigorous protest.

The progress on the Five Star Couple has
stalled; the personnel data we requested from the other cities has not arrived.
The Chief claims a formal request was delivered to both cities and ensures me,
we’ll see the results tomorrow.

 Next, Horny Harry: the idea of a high-end
recording gear proved to be a useless clue; the special cameras and sound
equipment is standard stuff and is sold all over the world. Christ, you can
hide the damn thing in your shoe and record your boring after dinner walk.

To cap it off, the bloody Chief still
refuses to authorize extra patrols for Bolton Park, insufficient evidence the
excuse. I haven’t had a chance to call Karen; she’ll probably patrol the area
on her own. Her Vice volunteers were ordered to stand down, against Vice
Department regulations.

The irritating complication: I can’t talk
to the Chief about the Judge’s assignments. I understand the Judge’s
priorities, and I appreciate his security precautions. But by keeping everything
to myself, I’ve accumulated a lot of pressure and also confused my squad who
don’t understand why I’m delegating significant segments of work on our most
important cases.

The Judge wants me to aggressively pursue
the Dr. Max case plus the damn secret recording in his Board Meetings. I end up
with two difficult and technically oriented cases; technology is not my
strength. Oh yes, I can seek technical help but I can’t reveal all the details.
Jesus Christ!

 The Dr. Max situation will probably end up
as a shit storm because the Forensic Division is the project manager, running
the case in the prescribed manner, and I’m running a parallel covert
investigation. And, the goddamn secret recording case appears hopeless; the
only idea I have is the one that surfaced during my original lunch with Ann,
the Judge’s assistant. I’m gathering the players and equipment to implement
that idea. I don’t like the choice; the risk is too great. I need some
technical help; but how do I get help without explaining the secret recordings?

 All this cloak-and-dagger work means
little sleep. I’m tired and the idea well is dry; my favorite way to generate
new ideas and create new channels is brainstorming with the crew, no longer
possible. Jesus, I’m getting a headache. I forget to mention I’m not drinking.

The topper is rather mundane: I’m hungry. I
haven’t eaten a thing since my meager breakfast, and it’s well past my evening
meal. Add it all up and it means: I’m ready to kick ass: anyone’s.

 The damn elevator stops at every floor:
one asshole gets off and another asshole gets on for a ride to the next floor.
Asshole on, asshole off, way we go. Just my day. The door opens and in steps
Jake the head of the Prisons Division and his female assistant with an armful
of files; it doesn’t take Jake long to start laying on the sarcasm.

 “Look Helen, it’s Batman and Robin.
They’re searching for clues in the Hall of Justice building elevator, not a
corner will be missed. How’s it going boys?”

Wes and I don’t respond. The idiot doesn’t
know when to stop and continues to talk to his assistant as if we’re not
present. “It’s a shame the so called detectives in this city can’t catch the
Five Star Couple; the city is terrified and still we have detectives riding
around elevators and doing other important stuff. When five-star hotels become
killing zones, it’s a tragedy. My wife is terrified.”

I glare at the asshole. “Your wife is
terrified?’’

“That’s right Charlie, but you wouldn’t
understand.”

 “Jake my friend she has nothing to fear,
unless……..unless she’s gone back into the business and is going up to hotel
rooms and wrapping her lips around some stranger’s big kahuna.”

Wes grabs my sleeve and tries to pull me
away. Jake’s face is flushed; his assistant is looking at the floor. We hit the
ground floor and when we all enter the main lobby, I let him have the rest.

“Actually Jake just make sure she washes up
when she gets home…….you know …. she has to give Miss Pussy a good rinse…….let
me show you.” I bend over a little, spread my legs, and move my hands under my
crotch as if I was waving a hose with a stream of water.

 “Just remember, full pressure on the hose
and give Miss Pussy lots of water and that hotel stuff will run right off.”

He walks two steps closer but is barely
able to talk. I know he is very proud of his young wife.

“Taylor you’re finished. There are too many
witnesses this time. You’re finished!” and with that he turns and walks toward
the main entrance.

 But I’m not finished and go for a parting shot.
“Be sure to give her our love and kisses.”

 This last comment I punctuate with a few
kissing sounds and loud smacks of my lips, a number of times——smack, smack,
smack—— loud enough to carry to the front. There is a small crowd in the front
entrance, some heads turn.

 Wes and I walk down the corridor to my
office. “Boss you are the craziest bastard I’ve ever known, and when the Chief
hears about this one, it’ll be ugly.”

I raise my hand and stop him. “Jake and I
have a history, and he won’t let it go.  I try to give him all sorts of space,
but he keeps coming back.”

We continue to the office. I know this is a
bad one. A mistake. I shouldn’t have done the pantomime with the damn hose and
the smacking lips a dumb move.

 Jesus Christ. What a mess!

They had identified a killer and the burial
grounds for six young men.

Doug Brewster, head of the Legal Division,
was elated. But, Chief Duncan Stirling sat at his desk, staring into space in a
furious mood. The news about the killer would be a bonus for him and his
Division; his staff solved the crime.

“Come on Duncan, why the long face? This is
great news.”

The Chief put down his coffee and walked to
the window. He was gaining control. “Let me start at the beginning; it doesn’t
excuse what happened, but at least you’ll understand how it occurred.”

“Jesus man, now you have me scared. What
the hell is going on?”

“Be patient. If I can tell the story from
the beginning, it helps. For the past year, an irritating series of incidents
plagued our northeast quadrant, some serious, some just bullshit small stuff:
everything from rolling drunks to rape. We thought it was the same two or three
guys, but they were fast and shrewd. Eventually, with the help of some new
software, we isolated their home base to a four square block section in a
northern district. Although we were sure this was their home base, we didn’t
have a good plan for proceeding, other than an increase in surveillance. ”

The Chief stopped and drank his coffee.
Doug thought he must be getting to the good part because he was having control
problems.

“Last week the Regional Conference tied my
up for a few days and kept me away from the office. Christ, it was only four
days. My back up, my second in command became upset with the vigorous neighbor
complaints and decided we had been procrastinating for too long. My brilliant
team member decided to surround the entire area and round up all the males who
were in the right age bracket.”

“Oh shit, his frustration was his
justification? Tell me he’s not that dumb. Surely he knows that the ‘random
selection’ clause means the police can’t pick someone off the street and start
using the S1 Interrogation.”

“Sorry, I’m not sure what happened for him
to leave his senses. And I don’t know why the rest of the crew followed without
protesting. In any case once they had a couple of cells full of candidates and
after some verbal interrogation and checking of alibis, he ended up with 15
guys who needed more follow-up. My assistant organized an S1 inquiry for all of
them. Your staff was given some bullshit story about the group.”

“Son of a bitch. I can’t believe where this
is going.”

“In the group we did uncover the two who
had been terrorizing the neighborhood; but, with no substantial justification
for subjecting them to S1, I ordered these two released; you concur? Good.”

The Chief turned, marched to the big screen
on the back wall and loaded a recording.

  “Here is the stunning part of this
goddamn mess. I won’t play the entire tape for you, just enough for you to get
the flavor. I didn’t release everyone out of the 15 we grabbed; I’m still
holding one in the back cells.

As you see this guy, he has already been
administered the drugs for S1. His reaction to the drugs turns him into a happy
drunk. Some of his words are slurred, and he looks and acts like he spent all
day in the bar; he wants you to be his friend and wants to share with you. Are
you ready?   Here we go.”

The video displayed a mature male, around
40 years old, some hair loss, glasses and carrying a few extra pounds. He
certainly sounded like he was drunk; his name was John Ryan, the introduction
went quickly, and then it started with a leading question.

“John, it is my understanding
that you have been a naughty boy.”

“Yes….Yes I have been …in fact
I have been very naughty……oh yes I have been a real bastard…..well not all the
time ….only on the anniversary …”

“John, that’s a good start.
I’m glad we’re friends and we can share some our troubles………….. tell me more
about the times when you have been very naughty.”

“God it’s good to have an
understanding friend….Oh God where to start……ok let’s go with the first one….
just a kid in my mother’s neighborhood. I’d been house sitting the neighbor’s
place, right next to my mom’s home, while the neighbor went on her annual jaunt
down to Mexico for a few weeks. The kid snuck around after dark, looking for a
free beer and some bullshitting. His parents didn’t seem to be worried about
his hours.

One night we started sharing
some beer and a few joints…..when he got drunk enough, I made my move…………he’d
been giving off signs all week ….. but now he resisted ….that really pissed my
off …the first thing I know he’s on the back porch dead. The bugger should have
relaxed and let me ……well now I had a problem …the body.

I was lucky. I’d been building
a small patio off my mother’s back porch. It was a dark night and he was easy
to carry over to mom’s back yard. I dug the base a little deeper and buried
him. At 8:00 am next morning the concrete truck arrived and he was part of the
patio.”

“John, didn’t anyone question
you?”

“Oh sure, there was a massive
search for the kid. But two things saved me…..one he always came after dark,
and no one saw him…….second some noisy woman at the end of the street swore she
saw him get into a red SUV earlier in the evening.

Mom came home and I went back
to my own neighborhood, out of the area. The cops kept combing the area but of
course Mom was so innocent they just left her alone……..see I told you I was
naughty.”

“But John you said very
naughty and you mentioned the anniversary.”

“There are five more ……..I just
do one annual on the anniversary of the first …I” 

Chief stopped the recording. “ He goes into
great detail how he plans each anniversary; how he selects the boys and where
he puts the bodies; he’s been expanding his mother’s patio for the past five
years. She still lives there, but we have not moved on this information.”

Doug understood. “We have a killer of boys
and we know where the bodies are; the problem is all this information was
acquired using an illegal interrogation. And, you’re unspoken question is: what
the hell do we do next? Let him go? Dig up the bodies and not tell how we knew?
Arrest the bastard and proceed to the S3 Interrogation?”

Both men looked at each other. The silence
did not last. Doug started.

 “You know Chief there are a few
politicians who are pushing to have random interrogation passed into law.
However, the strong opposition argues this is one more step toward a police
state. The issue comes up on a regular basis and the debates are intense. So
far, no resolution or worse for us, at this time, random interrogation is not
legal.”

“Goddamn it, we can’t let this guy walk.
Isn’t there anything in your bag of legal tricks?”

“If you’re prepared to support me and take
some of the heat, here is what I propose: first, suspend your supervisor
without pay pending a formal review. This will send the message you do not
support his decision.

But my primary strategy will be to develop
a series of unconfirmed news leaks which raise hope that the murders have been
solved. The stories can escalate but always will be unconfirmed and denied. My
delicate task will be to manage two reporters…….I trust them and have utilized
them for other breaking news stories.

The problem will be: how to frame the story
to ensure the random interrogation doesn’t surface immediately. First, a rumor
will suggest a suspect is in custody, and the victims’ families have to be out
front and pressing for more information. We’ll have to stonewall any questions
as long as we can.

This will create a lot of pressure on the
both of us; we must take the heat. When it appears that the street is prepared
to lynch the guy, I will leak the difficulties in prosecuting because a random
selection occurred. I predict at this point the public outcry will be massive,
and the implications of an illegal interrogation will be considered very minor.
This guy has no redeeming qualities which will cause someone to take up his
cause.

Last, I’ll bring it all to the Judge. My
position will be: we held back because we were hoping we could come up with
some way to legally arrest the guy. We were playing for time and hoping. I
don’t know if the Judge will buy it; he will be furious for being kept out of
the loop for so long. But given the political climate and public outrage, I’m
not sure he can’t do anything except use his annual discretion.”

The Chief wasn’t sure. “Review this with
me……. this annual discretion.  How far can the Judge go with this authority?”

“Ok, it’s really a misnomer and not an
annual event. It means the new legislation allows a Judge to use his discretion
to allow an S1 Interrogation, even if there is insufficient evidence of guilt.
There are no restrictions. But the understanding is: it would only be used in
exceptional circumstances and if use too often, the Judge has to answer to
Regional.

But the bottom line: he overrides the need
for a formal justification prior to an S1 interrogation. Every Judge is
extremely reluctant to use this option and insists he is informed before an
individual is targeted for an Interrogation.”

“Goddamn it. I’m with you, but you are
going to have to script this all the way. One wrong press release and I see
trouble. I have to run. First, I have a supervisor who needs his ass
rearranged. The rest I leave to you…...shit ….  what a goddamn mess. ….I’m
sorry I have to run. They are screaming for me to get upstairs.” And with that
the Chief was gone.

Doug smiled, pleased with his performance,
his feigned surprise, his acute indignation. What he hadn’t told the Chief was:
this random selection screw up was already common knowledge for those with the
right connections. He had been well prepared before the Chief even requested a
meeting.

He knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as he
described. His ability to manage the press leakage would be most difficult. The
Judge would be furious: first with the Chief for the random selection, and he
would guess Doug set him up so there was no choice. Stephen would see Doug as
someone who could have come to him at the beginning.

By withholding the information and allowing
the public frenzy to build, it would appear the Judge was a reluctant
participant and only used his discretionary powers because his hand was forced.
Not because he wanted justice served.

Doug understood all this; the Chief had not
have picked up on the undercurrent; he was just anxious to get the case off his
back. For Doug, this became a golden opportunity to demonstrate his prowess as
an aggressive legal mind, attuned to the public’s needs and able to deal with
the tough cases.

He knew that some of his distracters
thought he was an artificer, too ready to bend and twist for personal gain.
This, he was sure, was Stephen’s opinion as he seemed to force Legal into
extensive debates over many of its recommendations.  

                                              
###

Harry had enough for one day. When he
thought back to the last one, he began to grin. Yes, the result had meant a
vigorous cleanup of the cab’s interior, but her aggressive fighting was turn on
he really enjoyed. God, she was a prize; boy he was almost ready for another
one.

He needed a diversion; he had the answer,
walked down the hall and into the bedroom, to the five-drawer chest and to the
third drawer from the top.  Under his folded sweaters the recordings. Soon this
drawer would not be able to store his entire planned collection He selected the
most recent and on the way to the living room stopped to grab a couple of
beers.

This ranked as his best diversion: all the
lights out, drapes pulled, beer at his elbow, in his big lounge chair, and his
pants off.  He always hesitated to allow the tension to build. When his
imagination triggered a stirring in his groin, he pressed: play.