Robert Tanenbaum: Fury

"What am I going to do? What am I going to do?" he wailed.

Marlene stopped in the doorway when she saw her mother and then walked over slowly. Concetta Ciampi lay in the bed, her brown eyes fixed on the crucifix above the bed but no longer seeing it.

Marlene felt for a pulse, knowing there would be none. She was going to close her mother's eyelids when she noticed something and bent closer. Hardly noticeable, the small blood vessels in the eyes had ruptured. A sign of asphyxiation. She then noticed a crumpled pillow next to her mother's head. On one side there was a smeared lipstick stain, the same color her mother was wearing, and a damp spot.

"Oh, Marlene," her father cried. "What are we going to do?"

Marlene blinked back the tears, removed the pillowcase from the pillow, and closed her mother's eyelids. "I'm going to take you to my home, Pops," she said. "Then I'm going to come back and take care of Momma."

Karp looked at his watch and then at the back of the courtroom. He'd hoped Marlene would show but it was time to get the ball rolling.

That morning he'd met with Hugh Louis in his office. Louis had begun by blustering that the "mayhem" of two days ago didn't change the fact that his clients were still suing the city. "I'll get a new jury…we'll do it all over again…unless you want to settle this now."

"Shut up, Louis," Karp snarled. "And let me tell you how this is going to go down." He pulled out the Kaminsky letter and shoved it in Louis's face. "You're about to be indicted, but if you want to save your fat ass a few years in the big house, here's the deal."

An hour later, Karp was sitting in the courtroom wishing Marlene would show up when Klinger entered. She looked at the empty plaintiffs' table and demanded to know what was going on.

Karp, who had not bothered to rise, held a finger up-a sign for the judge to hold on for a minute.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Karp," she sputtered. "Since when do you tell this court what to do."

"Hold on a moment, your honor, I'm waiting for some paperwork before we can begin," he said. "Ah, here it is now."

Harry Kipman rushed into the room flanked by U.S. Marshals and NYPD police officers. "Here you go, boss," he said, handing Karp two documents. "Everything went like clockwork."

Karp quickly looked over the paperwork and smiled as he rose to his feet. "Your honor, I have two applications," he said. "The first is that the attorney for the plaintiffs, Hugh Louis, has filed a motion to dismiss the case. I might add that Mr. Louis is now under indictment."

Klinger swallowed hard and nodded. "Very well," she said, her voice trembling, "case dismissed." She got up to leave.

"Your honor, I said I had two applications," Karp replied. The judge turned slowly to face him. "The second application is that you're under arrest."

"This is outrageous…on what grounds?"

"We'll start with obstruction of justice. Based on the grand jury testimony from Verene Fischer, also known as Hannah Little, and Hugh Louis. Kristine Breman-who was arrested in her office earlier this morning-and you have been indicted by the grand jury down the street in the Criminal Courts building. The U.S. Marshals are present to take you into custody and hand you over to the NYPD."

"I want a lawyer," the judge said.

"You better get a good one," he replied as the marshals rushed past.

Two weeks later, Karp met with the team involved with the Coney Island trial at his office. It was a sort of celebration that had been delayed because of the death of Marlene's mother and her subsequent funeral.

Guma had furnished a cooler with beer on ice, and even Mrs. Milquetost was letting her hair down, so to speak, by sipping on a Coors. He figured they all deserved it as it had been a busy, as well as an emotionally draining, couple of weeks.

Breman and Klinger had been indicted for obstruction of justice and withholding of evidence. Between them and Rachman, he was sure that it wouldn't be long before the press started accusing him of being prejudiced against women in the justice system.

Newbury was in the process of adding on to the current indictment against Hugh Louis a host of charges, starting with conspiracy to commit murder in the death of Ivan Kaminsky. The now Coney Island Three were engaged in a competition for who could spill his guts-all of it properly recorded in the presence of their lawyers-to finger Louis as directing Sykes to kill Ivan.

Newbury had hoped that they might also nail Olav Radinskaya on the conspiracy charge to go along with the indictments facing Zulu, Lindahl, and Ewen for the No Prosecution and Coney Island Four conspiracies, but the Russian had disappeared a few days after the trial. His body had subsequently been found floating beneath the pylons of the Coney Island pier, an apparent victim of a garrote.

In fact, there seemed to be something unhealthy in the air for anyone involved in these most recent cases. Ted Vanders, who, according to a note typed on his computer, was distraught over losing his beloved Sarah Ryder, had apparently committed suicide by throwing himself off the fire escape of his Minetta Street apartment.

The wheels of justice grinding away, Karp thought as he looked around his office. Repass and Russell were over in a corner laughing as they fended off Guma's attempts to get them drunk "and let you take advantage of us." Stupenagel and Murrow were arguing some point with Kipman, while Newbury smirked.

Dick Torrisi walked into the office and was promptly handed a beer by Mrs. Milquetost, who'd finished her first and wondered "why a nice man like you isn't married. Perhaps you'd like to meet my daughter…she's a little on the heavy side but…"

"I didn't get a chance to thank you in person after the trial," Torrisi said, disengaging himself and walking up to Karp with his hand extended. "Things got a little hectic there with all the bullets and bodies flying around. So thanks. And I wanted to add that your approval rating with the PBA has gone through the roof. Arresting Rachman showed them that you'll go after anybody, even in your own office, then taking down a federal judge and the Brooklyn DA…well, let's just say me and the boys, we appreciate you going to bat for us. I think you can count on the membership next fall."

"Thanks, I appreciate that, but I was just doing my job," Karp said.

"Nah, you might have been following your conscience," Torrisi said, "but it wasn't your job."

Their conversation ended when the others in the room started to clap. Karp looked around and saw Liz Tyler standing shyly at the door. She went around the room and shook everyone's hands and came last to Karp and Torrisi, who kissed her on the cheek and excused himself.

"Any idea what you're going to do now?" Karp asked.

Tyler looked up at him sideways with a shy smile. "Well, a couple of days after the trial, I got a call from my ex-husband. Apparently some guy with the newspapers got in touch with him to get a comment and told him what happened," she said. "Anyway, my ex suggested that I move to Arizona so that I can sort of get reacquainted with my daughter."

"Great idea. Any chance there's more to it than that?"

A shadow passed across Tyler's face. "No, not the way you're thinking," she said. "He…he remarried and has two more children. He's just being kind-he was always kind-and said he wants our daughter to get to know me."

"So are you going?"

Tyler bit her lip and nodded. "I bought a one-way ticket to Tucson yesterday," she said. "I'm pretty nervous. But I don't have anything keeping me here, and I don't want to go live with my parents in Iowa." She laughed. "Then I really would go crazy. I leave in the morning so this is good-bye, Mr. Karp." She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you."