Randy Singer - The Justice Game

Matt was on his feet, taking a step toward his former partner. “Don’t,” he said calmly. “Don’t take this out on them.”

“If you care so much, couldn’t you just pick up the phone and call me?” The old man’s eyes were filled with resentment, swinging from one person to the next. “You’ve got to gang up on me? get some psychologist in here to certify me as crazy?”

“C’mon,” Matt said, holding up his hand to get his friend to stop. “We’ve been through a lot together. Don’t say stuff you’ll regret.”

Jason jumped in as well. He forced himself to ignore his dad’s comments and speak past the pain. “You need help, Dad. We’ve come to help.”

His father laughed him off. “ You’ve come to help.” He turned to Matt Corey. “Isn’t that the same thing we tell our targets just before we nail them during interrogation? ‘We just want to help.’”

“Why don’t you sit down?” Matt said.

Jason’s father stared at him, but Matt didn’t blink.

“You know I love you, man,” Matt said. “But I don’t know what happened to the Jim Noble I used to respect. That man would have never acted this way. That man wouldn’t have hurt the people he cared about most.”

The comment seemed to penetrate Jason’s dad’s defenses like a tranquilizer dart. He said nothing but sat on the edge of his recliner, his eyes fixed on Prescott.

Matt took a seat as well. “Thanks,” he said softly.

Prescott took control of the meeting and explained how Jason, Julie, and Detective Corey had each become independently concerned about their father and friend. “Your drinking is affecting everything,” Prescott said. “Your work. Your relationship with your kids, and in Julie’s case, her willingness to let you have a relationship with your grandkids. These three folks all care about you very much and decided to do one of the toughest things in their lives-participate in this intervention.”

For once, Jason couldn’t read the expression on his dad’s face. He listened intensely to Prescott, never once looking at Jason or Julie or Matt until Prescott came to the end of his spiel.

Prescott explained that he had asked each of the participants to write a letter and thought perhaps Matt should go first.

Matt Corey read his letter slowly and emphatically, with frequent glances at Jason’s dad to assess its impact. He spoke about his great respect for his former partner, of all that the older cop had taught him, about how he had wanted to model his own career after his partner’s. “In some ways, you’re closer to me than my own father,” he said.

The letter pulled no punches in detailing the current state of James Noble’s job performance. His hours had become sporadic. A few partners had requested transfers because they couldn’t take his mercurial personality swings. His case closure rate was down, and now there were rumors about missing cocaine. “I know it’s not you,” Matt read. “But let’s be honest, you’ve got an addiction. It’s just that yours comes in a bottle.”

Jason watched his dad’s face redden, but the man made no attempt to respond. Matt finished with a plea for Jim to get help and pledged his own support. In the silence that followed, the attention shifted to Jason.

“I guess I’m next.”

Jason’s heart pounded as he unfolded his letter. It took every ounce of willpower to look his dad in the eye as he prepared to read. He would have only one chance to do this, and he wanted to get it right. He had to keep reminding himself that the man sitting in this room was not really his father. The booze had stolen James Noble’s soul and left a demon in its wake. This might be Jason’s only hope for changing all that.

Jason’s letter began by recounting some bright memories from his childhood, events that had been lost in the turmoil of the last few years. He glanced at his father as he read, apologizing for disappointing his dad in so many ways. Even during this part of the letter, words he had wept over as he wrote them, his father’s expression never changed. Julie’s cheeks, on the other hand, were wet with quiet tears.

Jason detailed the changes he had noticed in his dad and how they had affected their relationship. He admitted that his own response had been avoidance and asked forgiveness for staying away. If his dad got help, Jason promised to be there and to work through this with him. But honestly, if his dad didn’t change, Jason just couldn’t bear to stick around and watch him self-destruct.

“You always taught me that being a man meant you faced your problems and never quit,” Jason said. “Don’t give up on your family, Dad. We want you back. We love you too much to watch this happen and not do anything. I’m begging you, Dad-get some help.”

Jason finished, his eyes stinging with tears, and looked up. His father stared back, still emotionless, looking as if he couldn’t believe his own son had turned against him.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Jason said. “But this is the only way we knew to help.”

His father nodded grimly and turned to Julie. “I’m sure the old man’s let you down, too,” he said, the words dripping with sarcasm. “But I really can’t take much more of this right now. The stuff about my job performance is all bull.” He looked at Matt Corey with eyes flaring again. “You know what that place is like. And you know darn well that this crap against me is just political.”

He turned back to Jason. “As for you-I’m sorry I’ve been such a complete and total failure as a father.”

“That’s not what I’m saying-”

“That is exactly what you’re saying,” the older man fired back. If the others hadn’t been there, Jason had no doubt that his dad would have physically attacked him. “And it’s easier to blame it on the booze than it is to talk about the real issues.”

“Let’s talk about the real issues,” Prescott interjected, his voice still calm.

Jim Noble leaned forward, forearms on his knees, hands clasped. He studied the floor for a moment and then looked up at Prescott. “Get out,” he said. “You’ve played your little game, and I get the picture. My drinking days are over. I needed a wake-up call, and I got it. Thank you very much. Now get out.”

“You need help, Dad,” Julie said.

“You can all leave,” Jason’s dad insisted. “And you can all leave now. ”

Prescott nodded, and the others followed his cue. They had talked about this. Jason’s dad had to know they would follow through. He had to know they would walk out of his life if he didn’t change.

They left him sitting there, hunched over and staring at the floor. Julie put a hand on his shoulder as she walked by. Jason left without a touch.

“Give him a day or two to think it over,” Dr. Prescott said as the four of them huddled in the driveway. “My guess is that he’ll talk to Matt about getting treatment.”

Jason had his doubts. He knew in his heart they had done the right thing. But he had little hope that his father would actually change.

He folded up his letter and put it in his pocket. At the airport, he pulled it out and thought about all the emotional energy involved in writing it. He threw it in one of those modern trash cans with an electric compressor. Right on cue, the receptacle vibrated and crunched the letter together with discarded newspapers and candy bar wrappers and Burger King french fries.

It was time, Jason decided, to put that part of his life behind him.

Kelly spent most of her time on Saturday morning staring out her office window, thinking about Judge Shaver. Perhaps this person named Luthor had intended merely to distract her from preparing for the deposition of Melissa Davids. If so, it was working.