T. Bunn - Winner Take All

The prisoner and his lawyer both remained standing. Wilma held Skyler’s gaze and kept her tone easy. “I’m sure the deputy would be happy to help you find your chair, sir.”

Skyler moved with the ease of long practice, cocking his leg and seating himself without using his manacled hands. And without unlocking his gaze. Wilma held the moment awhile, then said to Hamper, “I asked you down to inform you of new evidence that’s come to light. Thought you both would like to hear it straight from me before we go public.”

Hamper Caisse slipped into the other chair and told his client, “She’s bluffing.”

“Let’s get one thing straight up front, gentlemen. This was not a burglary. And we’re no longer treating it as such.”

“You don’t have a thing on my guys.”

Wilma actually laughed. “That’s a wild pitch, even for you.”

“What are you talking about? My guys-”

“Were caught inside Dale Steadman’s house.”

“My guys were brought in here under false pretenses. They didn’t steal a thing. The burglary charges won’t hold in court and you know it.”

“The original charges were B amp;E. Not burglary. They stick. We’ve just decided to up the ante a little to attempted kidnapping.”

“I want a moment to confer privately with my clients.”

“Oh, you want me to show in your other client?” She smirked for Skyler’s benefit. “Wait now, what am I saying. You don’t have another client.”

That stilled them both.

Wilma took quiet relish in playing her trump. “James Walker has fired you, Hamper.”

It was Skyler who responded first. “What?”

“That’s right. And he’s turning state’s evidence.” She plucked the page from her briefcase. “There in black and white. See right there at the bottom? Our man Studley’s signature.”

“This is sheer travesty,” Hamper declared. “She’s winding you up.”

“Like a clock, Mr. Cummins. With this rap sheet of yours, going down again means you’re looking at a whole new career path.”

“Don’t listen to her. It’s total rubbish, what she’s saying.”

Skyler rounded on his attorney. “What are you talking about, man? I know the score here.”

“And I’m the one who’s going to get you out!”

“Yeah? So how come I didn’t even make bail?”

Wilma Blain’s calm voice acted like a goad. “Listen to your jailhouse lawyer buddies, Mr. Cummins. They know a lifer in the making. You’re going to get to know them real well.”

Hamper shrilled at her, “You shut up!” To Skyler, “She’s paid to scare you.”

“What for? I’m already locked up!” Skyler addressed Wilma straight on. “You got something to say to me?”

“What are you talking to her for?” Hamper flipped his chair over as he bolted to his feet. “She’s the DA!”

Wilma replied to Skyler, “I think I might have something here that might interest you.”

The prisoner demanded, “You want to deal?”

“If we can do business here and now, absolutely.”

Hamper shouted, “I forbid this!”

They both ignored him. Wilma continued, “Basically, you’ve got two choices. I can have your charges reduced to misdemeanor, and you serve a year-”

“No time.”

“No chance, Mr. Cummins. We know what happened. But we don’t have the backer’s name and we don’t know who the third guy was. You get me? We know this was a capital offense in the making. Right now, we can lay the whole thing at your feet. If that happens, they’ll carry you out of Central Prison in a box.”

Gradually the yellow suit darkened with sweat. “And I’m telling you. No time.”

Hamper shrieked, “I demand to speak to my client privately!”

Wilma gave no sign she heard Hamper at all. “I don’t bluff, Mr. Cummins. And I don’t deal in fables. You keep up that line, we lay the whole case on you. I’ll retire to go play with my grandkids and you’ll still be inside, weeding your little garden patch and trying to remember what your last beer tasted like.” She smiled once more. “Forty years ago.”

“So?”

“So today we’ve got us a sale. From life down to twelve months. All I want is the guy who hired you to steal that baby.”

Hamper inserted himself into the discussion by hammering both fists on the table. “Quit talking directly to my client!”

Only the manacles kept Skyler from making a grab for Hamper’s throat. “I’m not doing life for nobody!”

“Don’t you understand what’s happening here? She’s trying to flip you!” To Wilma. “We need a week to think over your offer.”

“Why?” From Skyler. “So you can get me shanked?”

Hamper wheeled about and waved at the deputy through the faceplate. “Open this door!”

“Doesn’t his behavior strike you as a little strange, Mr. Cummins?” Wilma hurried her words to get it said before the guard unlocked the door. “Why is he so intent upon keeping you as his charge here? I’d suggest that it’s because you’re not his client! ”

The door shuddered open. Hamper declared, “My client and I are outta here.”

Wilma asked Skyler, “Mr. Cummins, do you wish to return to your cell? Because if you leave this room, my deal is off the table.”

“You won’t get life!” This from Hamper. “We can go to the parole board!”

“What, in twenty years?” Skyler remained where he was. “That’s it? A couple of names and I’m done?”

“From your lips to my tape player.” Wilma planted her recorder on the table. “I want to hear you say why you were there, and who hired you.”

Hamper was sweating harder than the prisoner. “You know how much is at stake here?”

“Yeah,” Skyler replied, not even glancing his way. “The rest of my days.”

Hamper leaned back over the table and covered the tape recorder with both hands. “Don’t forget the money.”

Wilma showed surprise for the first time that day. “Excuse me?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, man, I haven’t seen a dime. You’re the one walking around in your thousand-dollar suit. I’m in here looking at life.”

Wilma again. “Did you say money?”

“I ain’t going down for nobody.” Skyler’s manacles rattled as he tried to take aim at Hamper. “You’re fired, man.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Point of law, counselor. He can.” Wilma withdrew another sheaf of pages from her briefcase. “Mr. Cummins, would you care to use my pen?”

He had to lift himself from the chair to hunch over the pages. Hamper had turned an ashen shade. “You’re finished, Skyler. Finito.”

Wilma looked at the attorney. “Would you mind lifting your hand from my machine and repeating those words about money for the record?”

Skyler finished signing and planted himself back in the chair. “You’re not Mafia, man. Matter of fact, you’re nothing but history.”

“Mr. Cummins, are you declaring this man is no longer your attorney?”

“Absolutely.”

Wilma lifted the pages and waved them like a battle flag. “Counselor, I suggest you use what little free time you have left to find yourself a good lawyer.”

Marcus took that as his cue.

The last thing Marcus saw through the one-way glass was Hamper righting his chair and replanting himself. He used both hands to clamp himself down tight. “Until this man has new counsel, I insist on remaining to protect his rights.”

“No problem there.” Wilma Blain cheerily waved Marcus past the guard and into the interview room. “Matter of fact, I’ve got someone right here who will be happy to advise your former client.”

Hamper Caisse had a difficult time recognizing Marcus. Awareness came in stages-who he was, why he was there, how Hamper had been set up all along. Marcus saw the last realization come in a flash of panic-stricken rage. From sweating lawyer to cornered feral beast in the blink of an eye.