David Hosp - Among Thieves

“It’s not your fault,” Finn said. “We didn’t know.”

“We knew enough,” she replied.

He nodded. “Maybe we did. But then it’s all our faults. We’ll get her back.”

“You have a plan?” she asked.

Finn laughed bitterly. “Not really. I called in a favor at the clerk’s office and got Devon ’s new bail hearing put on the calendar for tomorrow. That’s the best I could do. First we have to get him out-and after his little charade the other day there’s no guarantee that’s going to happen. Once we get him out, we wait for Kilbranish to call.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’re not really going to give Devon up to this psychopath, are we?” Lissa asked. “There has to be another way.”

Finn looked up at Kozlowski. “Maybe there is,” he said. Kozlowski nodded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Probably,” Kozlowski said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“There’s only one way to know for sure,” Finn said.

“What?” Lissa demanded.

“We give him the paintings,” Kozlowski said.

She looked back and forth between them. “We don’t know where the paintings are. Do we?”

“No,” Finn said. “We don’t. But I think we may know who does.”

Devon ’s second bail hearing was scheduled for two-thirty on Friday afternoon. Finn arrived at one o’clock to talk to the clerk to make sure Devon would be called first. He didn’t want to take any chance that an earlier case would get bogged down and Devon would be returned to jail without the issue even being heard. It was a little tricky; he was calling in a serious favor from the clerk to set the schedule. Still, he had made it a practice of treating all the clerks at the courthouse well-a trick he’d learned when he first started out as a public defender-and they appreciated it. Judge Platt’s clerk had been predisposed in Finn’s favor ever since he’d given him his Red Sox tickets on the first-base line so he could take his son to a game on his birthday. It wasn’t a bribe, strictly speaking; there was no quid pro quo, and Finn would never ask for preferential treatment on the substance of a case. It did allow him to cut some corners on procedural issues, however. There was no question that what he was asking now would burn the last of any goodwill the tickets had earned him.

Kristin Kelley, the assistant district attorney who had argued at the arraignment, was not in the courtroom that morning, which was a blessing. Instead, the young man who had been with her was there, along with a woman who appeared even younger than he. Just looking at her made Finn feel old, but he banished the thought and focused on the argument at hand.

Judge Platt entered the courtroom at nine twenty-five, looking as bored with his existence as ever. “Call the first case,” he grumbled after everyone was seated.

“Case number 08-CR-2677, Commonwealth versus Devon Malley! Come forward and be heard!” the bailiff shouted.

Devon was brought in. He was wearing his prison fatigues, and he was chained at the wrists and ankles. Platt had his head down and was looking through case files as Devon entered, and it took a moment for him to look up. When he did, though, his forehead wrinkled in disgust. He called his clerk over to the bench, and they engaged in an animated discussion for a moment before the judge waved him away.

Platt turned his attention to Finn. “Mr. Finn, so nice to have you back in my courtroom,” he said. “Are we going for two out of three falls today?”

“No, Your Honor,” Finn said. “Before we begin, my client would appreciate the opportunity to address the court briefly, if possible?”

Platt glared at Devon. “That so, Mr. Malley?”

Finn nudged Devon. “Yes, Your Honor,” Devon said.

Platt crinkled his nose, as if he smelled something offensive. “If you must, go ahead,” he said.

Devon cleared his throat. Finn had rehearsed the speech with his client the night before, but still his palms were sweating as Devon began. “First,” Devon said, “I want to say I’m sorry to Mr. Finn, my lawyer. He and I have known each other for a long time, and I got mad at him the other day. I shouldn’t have hit him, and I’m very sorry about that.” Devon paused, looking at the judge. Finn searched for any change in the man’s demeanor, but could sense none.

“Second,” Devon continued, “I want to say I’m sorry to the bailiffs and the others who were in the courtroom the other day. I know what I did put them in danger, and I don’t have any excuse for that.”

“Is that it?” Platt asked.

“No, Judge. I want to say I’m sorry to you. This is your courtroom, and I disrupted it.”

“You disrespected it,” Platt interjected.

Devon nodded reluctantly. “I didn’t mean it to have anything to do with you, Judge. I didn’t mean to show disrespect, but I understand that that was how it looked. I’m very sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re goddamned right it won’t,” Platt grumbled. His voice had no conviction, though, and Finn could sense that he was slipping back into his habitual disinterest. “Mr. Finn, I believe we were discussing bail when your client interrupted us, is that right?”

“That’s correct,” Finn said.

The young assistant district attorney stood. “If I may address this issue, Your Honor?” he said.

Platt peered over his glasses down at the man. “Mr. Hendricks, do you have anything to add that Ms. Kelley did not address the other day?”

“Only that in light of Mr. Malley’s outburst the other day-”

“I was here, Mr. Hendricks. If you are about to instruct me on the weight I should give that in determining bail, then zip it. You don’t need to remind me of Mr. Malley’s behavior. Do you have anything else-anything new-to add?”

Hendricks’s mouth moved silently for a moment, as if he was willing the words to come. “No, Your Honor,” he said finally. “I don’t.”

“Didn’t think so,” Platt said. He looked at Finn. “Counselor, I assume you’ve been wandering these halls for long enough to know when to keep your mouth shut?”

“I have, Your Honor. Thank you.”

Platt looked at Devon. “Mr. Malley, at the time when you assaulted your attorney the other day, I was about to set a very low bail. Hell, I was even thinking about granting your release on your own recognizance. Now, because of your outburst, I am considering not setting bail at all.” The speech seemed rehearsed, but as the words came out of his mouth, Finn could feel the last of Platt’s anger slip out with them. His indignation was gone, and now he just seemed tired. He took a deep, weary breath. “Never mind; what’s the point,” he said. “Bail is set at fifty thousand dollars. Bailiff, call the next case.”

The courtroom broke into motion. The bailiff shouted out the case number of the next matter, and another defense attorney stepped up to the bar, putting his briefcase down on defense counsel’s table. Another bailiff moved over and took Devon by the elbow, and Finn stepped back from the table. Devon looked at him.

“Don’t worry,” Finn said. “I have a bondsman lined up. It’ll cost five grand to post. I’ve got the money ready, and I’ll cover it.”

“Thanks, Finn. I’ll pay you back.”

“Goddamned right you will,” Finn said. “I’ll have you posted in ten minutes. It’ll take another hour to process you out, but I’ll meet you out front.”

“Okay,” Devon said.

Then he was gone, and Finn was standing alone in a room full of people. The hearing had been the easy part, he knew. From here on, it was going to get a lot harder.