Stephen Cannell - King Con

"I have the signed copy in a safe place."

"I see…"

"I also have Tommy ready to testify, but you're going to have to do a few things to earn all this political good fortune," she said.

He let some time tick off the antique grandfather clock in the corner of his office. It tick-tocked the seconds loudly and Victoria sat and looked out the window, trying not to show any concern for his decision.

"Okay. So what's the price?"

"Three things," she said, reluctantly shifting her gaze back to him. "One: You promise to try Tommy Rina on second-degree murder, not first, and you arrange with the court for him to have a sentence with a seven-year cap."

"He's the one who pulled the trigger."

"I know, but it's the only way I can get him to play."

"He's a murderer."

"He also has an enemies list longer than Qaddafi's. Tommy's killed too many players. He probably won't even survive the seven-year jolt."

"And what's number two?"

"If he lives out his sentence, you guarantee him the Federal Witness Protection Program."

"And the last?"

"You arrange for all of the Federal charges pending against Beano X. Bates to be dropped."

"I see. Of course, I'm only a New Jersey District Attorney. The Federal Government doesn't generally do what I tell them."

"Hey, Gil, stop fooling around. You and I both know the FBI Organized Crime Strike Force is all over the Rinas. How much do you think they spent last year building a case against Joe and Tommy?"

"I haven't a clue."

"Four hundred and fifty-nine thousand dollars, not including expenses and overtime. Let's round it to half a million in surveillance costs per year. They've been swinging at those two curve balls like Little League outfielders and haven't even hit a pop-up. They'll deal, Gil. They'd like to drop both these bad boys and you get to be the hero. You get to take the bows at the press conference. It's your party. All you've gotta do is broker the deal."

"Beano Bates is on the Ten Most Wanted List. They aren't gonna deal on him."

"He's a white-collar criminal. He's not violent, and besides, that's what it's gonna take to get this done." She looked at him for a long moment and he studied her back, without expression.

Finally, Victoria stood and clicked her briefcase closed. She headed to the door.

"You know I've filed a brief with the New Jersey Bar to get your license yanked. I'm surprised you don't want to trade on that."

"I'm through being a lawyer, Gil. It's no fun anymore, because I figured something out…"

"What's that?"

"I always wanted the law to be about right and wrong, but it's not."

"Then what's it about?"

"It's about legal and illegal. That's a whole different concept that deals with fine points of law that get confessions thrown out of court and evidence inadmissible on technicalities, and I'm just not interested in that game anymore. Call me before close of business today. If you don't call, I'm taking this deal to the Feds. Only reason I brought it here first is, I know once you think about it, you'll fight like a son-of-a-bitch to get it for me… because after all, Gil, once you boil it down, it's still just politics."

Victoria left his office, got in her car, and began the three-hour drive to Wallingford.

When she arrived and saw her parents, she couldn't believe how good it was to be home. She hugged her mother and father and sat in the kitchen with them while her mother made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Her wheelchair was parked up next to the counter and she reached up to cut off the crust.

"'Ut the 'ust off, way you li'," she slurred to Victoria, who took the sandwich and ate it pensively. All her life she had cut the crusts off sandwiches, just like she had cut the crusts off most of her experiences. She wondered why; what event had put her on such a careful and precise path?

Her father was looking at her from across the room, smiling, almost as if he could read her thoughts. "What're you going to do, Sweet-pea?" he asked. He was wearing plaid golf slacks and a pink shirt and socks. Silly as that was, she thought he looked absolutely darling. Her heart went out to both of them.

"I don't know, Dad," she said. "I had some plans, but I'm not sure now."

She told them everything that had happened, ending by explaining that she had cashed her last ticket at Justice to get Tommy checked into the hospital at Lompoc Prison under an assumed name. Tommy's lung had been punctured, but the bullet had not hit anything vital. He'd been sewn up and filled with bottled blood and was glowering at the prison nurse when she left, but he'd agreed to cooperate. Victoria had gotten Tommy's signed confession and his promise to testify against Joe.

The rest had been mop-up. After Victoria got Tommy checked in, Beano told her he was going to go pay off the Hog Creek Bateses the percentage they'd agreed on, and that he would call her as soon as he was through.

It had been John who called a day later and said that Beano had taken Roger-the-Dodger and disappeared for a while. He had taken the $4.5 million in cash with him. She couldn't help herself; she was disappointed that Beano had talked a good game, but in the end had taken the money and run. That he was just a charming rogue who could never change… So that chapter in her life was closed. She could never love a criminal, anyway. She hadn't come that far, but she still felt a sense of loss.

Before she hung up, she had asked John about Cora. "Cora's paintin' number nine oil on the driveways and roofs up in heaven." And even though he meant it to be lighthearted, his voice cracked over the phone when he said it.

Now she felt tired. Victoria went up to her bedroom after lunch and lay on the bed. She looked at the ballerinas, only now she thought she could see, for the first time, what they were really doing. They weren't dancing at all. They never had been. They were simply expressing themselves in the best way they knew how, just as Victoria had always been trying to do. Maybe she had to come all this way to discover that one basic fact.

"Hold on by letting go," she said quietly in the empty room. She had let go and now she was waiting for the right things to happen in her life. She wouldn't force it anymore. She wouldn't bowl everybody over with dedicated energy, but rather nourish herself with the joy of her accomplishments.

Gil called her at seven-thirty. His voice was soft on the phone. "I can't promise Murder Two for Tommy, but I can get him First Degree with no special circumstances."

"Hey, Gil, I want you to listen to this very carefully; speaking for Tommy and using his exact idiom: Go fuck yourself." And she hung up. In seconds, the phone rang again. She let her father pick it up and call for her.

"It's Mr. Green, sweetheart," he called from the bottom of the stairs.

She came back out of her bedroom and picked up the phone again. "Look, Gil, this isn't even tough. You get Tommy Murder Two and you give him the Protection Program after he's out, or I'm gonna just let him go and you can worry about him coming after you, which he might do because he's insane."

"Okay, Murder Two, and I can get him the Protection Program. But I can't drop the Bates charges."

And she hung up on him again. She waited for the call back, and when it came this time, she snapped up the phone. "Don't waste your money calling me again, Gil. This is a package. Make the deal or watch the Feds make it."

"Okay, I can get him probation. Bates pleads guilty and he gets five years' probation. But he's gotta take the felony bust, Vicky. I can't absolve him of that."

"Okay, set up the deal and paper it. Once it's done, I'll arrange for you to get both Tommy and Joe."

Two more days passed, and still she hadn't heard from Beano. She hoped he would call. She had to tell him he was no longer wanted by the law, but had to show up at Gil's office. Now, she was beginning to suspect she would never see or hear from him again. He was probably in Rio living it up on his millions. She took long walks and played canasta with her mother. She tried to contemplate a life without the man she had fallen in love with. It seemed odd that she would find the missing pieces of herself in such a strange place.