William Bernhardt - Dark Justice

“Haven’t you been in the cell next to George Zakin?”

“Oh, right. The tree freak. What of it?”

“I just wondered.” She laid her hands on the table and spread her long fingers. “Sometimes people talk in jail, you know. Not much else to do, I suppose.”

Geppi’s eyes narrowed. “What’re you gettin’ at?”

“Here’s the situation, Mr. Geppi. Mr. Zakin is the leader of a group of people who have been stirring up a lot of trouble. They’ve decommissioned equipment and blown up cars and generally interfered with the townfolks’ way of life. Lot of people don’t care much for what those troublemakers are doing. And nobody cares for murder. A poor innocent logger got shot, then burned to death in the intentional explosion of some expensive logging equipment. He died slowly and painfully.”

“And you think Zakin did it?”

“Oh, I know he did. It’s proving it that’s the trick. That’s why I wondered if maybe you heard Zakin say something about the crime while he was in the cell.”

“Sorry, lady. Ain’t heard him mention it.”

“Are you sure about that, Mr. Geppi? I want you to be absolutely sure about that. Because you see, ten years is an awful long time to be locked up in Collinsgate prison. It’s a dirty, nasty place. Inmates are always gettin’ hurt or killed. Slashed up bad. And a handsome young man like you-well, you would be very popular with some of the inmates that have … specialized tastes. If you know what I mean.”

Geppi’s teeth clenched up. “What are you gettin’ at, lady?”

“I just want you to think very hard, Mr. Geppi. I want you to think very hard about whether maybe you’ve heard Mr. Zakin say anything about this crime he committed. Maybe even heard him confess to this crime he’s committed.” She drew her head up. “Because if you had heard him say something like that, it would make me very happy.”

Geppi settled back in his chair. “How happy?”

“Very happy.” She leaned forward, providing a generous display of cleavage. “Passionately happy.”

“Are you offering me a deal?”

“No. Let me make that absolutely, unequivocably clear. I am not offering you a deal. And there’s a reason for that, Mr. Geppi. You see, if you were to remember that Zakin had confessed to you, and if you were to take the stand to testify to that effect, you would have to undergo cross-examination. And the first question the defense attorney would ask is whether you’ve made a deal with the prosecutors. Whether you’ve been offered immunity. And if you have to say yes, that’s not going to look very good to the jury. That’s going to give the defense lawyer a way to discredit you. The jury needs to think the only reason you’re testifying is because of your profound sense of civic obligation.”

Geppi snorted.

“Anyway, that’s why I’m not offering you a deal. But I can tell you this.” She leaned even further across the table. “I can tell that you will not be shipped off to Collinsgate tomorrow, because you’ll be a material witness and we’ll need to keep you close at hand. And I can also tell you that after the Zakin trial is over, after the man has been convicted, I would look very favorably toward any proposal you might make. I wouldn’t even be surprised if the charges against you were dropped and it turned out we had just made a sad mistake.”

“That ain’t good enough,” Geppi said. “I want a firm deal. I want it in writing.”

“Listen to my words, you little pissant.” She grabbed his arm and jerked him forward. “That isn’t going to happen, understand? Not now, not ever. You have two choices. Either you get shipped out to Collinsgate and spend the next ten years as Cell Block Eight’s gang-bang joy toy, or you’ll testify about what George Zakin told you. And if you do a good job of it and Zakin is convicted, then -and only then -we’ll talk about maybe doing some favors. Not before.” She folded her arms across her chest. “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

Geppi pressed his lips together bitterly.

“Speak up, asshole. Should I sign the transfer papers now? Or do we have an understanding?”

Slowly, hesitantly, Geppi began to nod.

Granny smiled. “Good. I’m glad we were able to come to terms. I’m looking forward to working with you.” She leaned back luxuriantly in her chair. “I’m glad Zakin was foolish enough to spill the beans to you, Mr. Geppi. It’s important that we law enforcement officers be able to put away troublemakers and murderers. And it’s important that the community have a sense of security, a sense of justice being done. And that means knowing that crimes are punished, that troublemakers are taken off the streets. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Zakin told you he was behind the distribution of this new designer drug that’s been plaguing our town. Maybe he pushes drugs to raise money for his terrorist activities, you know what I mean?”

“I’m beginning to get the general idea,” Geppi said softly.

“I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that there was more to the murder than just eco-politics, too. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that there was a more personal motive for the crime. That there was a connection between Zakin and the man who was murdered.”

“Go on,” Geppi said, nodding his head attentively. “I’m listening.”

“The State calls Julie Cummings.”

Ben watched as the prosecution’s first witness of the day approached the bench. She was tall, lanky, about Zak’s age. Her brown hair hung straight down, no frills. She was reasonably attractive, Ben thought, but she didn’t look entirely comfortable in the elegant black dress she was wearing. Probably selected by Madame Prosecutor, unless Ben missed his guess.

While the witness was being sworn, Ben leaned toward Zak and whispered. “I’m worried about this. Nothing hurts worse than bad words from an … intimate acquaintance.”

“Relax. Julie’s a sweetheart. We understood each other.”

“Then why is she testifying for the prosecution?”

Zak shrugged. “Who knows? Probably subpoenaed. Mark my word-she won’t lay a finger on me.”

Ms. Cummings took her seat in the witness box and Granny began her questioning. “Ms. Cummings, what do you do?”

“I’m the regional director for the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Our Other-Than-Human Neighbors.”

“And could you briefly tell the jury what that distinguished organization is?”

“It’s an animal rights activist group. We’re committed to using nonviolent means to prevent the mistreatment of animals.”

“Were you with this organization six years ago?”

“Yes. I wasn’t regional director yet, but I was there.”

“And did you ever have an occasion to meet the defendant, George Zakin?”

“I did. He was also with the organization.”

“And what was his role?”

“He was in the Operations section.”

“And what did Operations do?”

“They were in charge of, well, operations.”

“Such as …”

“Raids. We would raid animal testing laboratories, try to free the animals. Sometimes we would hold protest rallies outside a zoo or corporate headquarters. That sort of thing.”

“Do you remember when Mr. Zakin joined the organization?”

“Yes, I remember it very well. I was against bringing him in.”

Granny feigned surprise. “Really? Why?”

“Because he had a criminal record.” Juror eyes widened with interest. Another of Granny’s promises was being delivered on. “He’d been a member of an anti-Klan group in Montgomery and he’d been caught with a bunch of bomb ingredients. Plastique, if I remember correctly. He was charged with possessing illegal materials and conspiracy to use them. He did two years.”