William Bernhardt - Hate Crime

“Get up against the wall!” he shouted.

“Do as he says,” Ben told her. “Please.”

She scooted forward, her lips parted, her face ghost white. Her hands began to shake. Ben wondered how much longer she could hold that box.

“Hurry!”

She scooted forward-too fast. She stumbled, and the box tumbled out of her hands, taking Roma by surprise. Reams of paper spewed forth, knocking him backward. The gun spilled out of his hand. He stepped backward, hit the desk, then fell, as the floor was covered in paper.

“Oh!” Vicki screamed. “I’m so sorry. Don’t hurt me! Please! I’ll clean this up.”

“Just get in the corner!” Roma bellowed, but Vicki knelt down and started rummaging through the paper-

– and came up holding a gun.

Ben and Christina gaped. Roma’s hand was barely an inch away from his own weapon. “Don’t do it,” Vicki cautioned.

He didn’t listen. He grabbed it. Vicki fired, but missed. Roma rolled away.

“Don’t be a fool,” Vicki said. “I will shoot.”

Roma came up, gun in hand-

And Vicki fired. The bullet caught him in the neck, slamming him back against the wall. His eyes fluttered shut.

“Call 911,” Vicki ordered. “Fast.” She ran to Roma’s side, looked at the wound, pressed two fingers against the side of his neck. “Damn,” she muttered. “He’s not going to make it.”

While Christina made the call, Ben stared at his intern. And her pistol. “What the hell is going on?”

“I think a ‘thank you’ might be in order here,” Vicki replied. There was a strength in her voice that he didn’t recall being there before.

“What were you doing with a gun in your files?”

“A girl has to know how to protect herself. Especially if she’s working for someone like you.”

“My God,” Ben said, slapping his forehead. “The press will be all over this. We’ll have to get you a lawyer. Someone outside the firm. It was self-defense, of course, but we’re going to have to convince the cops that-”

Vicki pushed herself back up to her feet. “Relax, Ben. You don’t have to worry about the cops.”

“How can you be sure?”

She smiled. “Because I am a cop.”

“It was always about the kidnapping,” Ben explained. “From the very start. First an audacious plan to get money, then a desperate plan to keep it.”

Ben sat in Judge Lacayo’s chambers with Christina, Drabble, the judge’s clerk, and most important, Mike, probably the only man in the room the judge really trusted. Although as far as that went, he was being pretty deferential to Ben today, especially compared to how the man had treated him since the trial began. Funny how a judge’s attitude changed once a law enforcement officer came in and told him that the far-fetched story the lawyer had been telling since the trial began was actually true.

“Mario Roma needed money,” Mike said. “Actually, I don’t know if he needed it so much as wanted it, but he was the one who concocted this plan. He had some contacts in Tulsa and he knew the Metzger family. And he’d seen Tommy. He knew the parents were loaded, attached to their child-but more than a bit negligent. He knew capturing the kid would not be that tricky. The hard part would be getting the money, keeping the money, and not getting caught.”

“But he apparently managed it, right?” Drabble said.

“Right-because he enlisted help. He knew a small-time hood named Manny Nowosky because he hung out in Roma’s club. Probably pushed drugs there, too, but Mario turned a blind eye to that. Call it a reciprocal favor. Manny brought in a street chicken he knew named Charlie. But Mario needed one more person to make it all work, so he recruited Tony.”

“Tony didn’t write a word in his journal that suggests that he was involved in anything criminal,” Christina protested.

“Well, it would be a pretty stupid move if he did, given that someone might read his journal, which, come to think of it, we all have.”

“But he comes across as such a caring, gentle person. Everyone who knew him says the same thing.”

“I know,” Mike said, “but there’s no other explanation. Anyway, the kidnapping was a success. They made off with the money. But that wasn’t the end of the story. I don’t know exactly why Mario set out to get Tony. Maybe he was afraid he would talk. Maybe he didn’t want to split the loot. At any rate, Manny and Charlie lured Tony out so they could kill him. They couldn’t have known two frat hoods would make their job all the easier. They probably followed Tony and the two frat boys out of the club and watched while the beating took place. By the time the frat boys left and they got to him, strangling Tony was a cinch. Delivering his corpse to the frat house was an obvious way to divert suspicion.”

“But why was Manny killed?” Christina asked.

“Now there I can make a much more accurate guess. We found fifty thousand bucks hidden in Manny’s rental home after he was killed. We checked the numbers. The cash didn’t come from the ransom money, at least not directly. Roma must’ve laundered it somehow. The way I see it, Manny was making demands, threatening to talk unless he got paid immediately. Unless I miss my guess, Charlie the Chicken joined in the ill-considered extortion attempt.”

“And then?”

“And then, after paying Manny a little something to keep him quiet, Mario decided to tie up the loose ends. With an electric drill. This was not only safer, it would allow him to keep all the money for himself. Once he took out Charlie, he must’ve thought he was safe.” He paused. “Till he tuned in to Ben’s idiotic press conference.” He shook his head. “Roma must’ve left the club the second he heard that. Tied up Jones and Loving and shoved them in that closet where we found them. Took out your lame attempt at security, poor Boxer Johnson, who was lucky to get away with nothing worse than a concussion. And then Roma came after you.”

Mike pursed his lips. “Let me tell you, Ben. Of all the stupid things you’ve done in a lifetime of stupid things, this one is the worst.”

“It wasn’t a bad idea,” Ben said defensively. “I didn’t think he’d move that quickly. I thought maybe he’d come that night, perhaps the next morning…”

“You were dead wrong.”

“And in any case, I had a security guard watching. We were in radio contact and-”

“And it was a bad idea.”

Ben sighed. “Well, it worked out in the end.”

“It only worked out because I got undercover security assigned to your sorry little butt without telling you-since you refused it when I offered it. Not that easy to find a cop with a law background, either, let me tell you. Vicki Hecht is her real name. Graduated Northwestern Law School, 1992. Practiced law for five years, didn’t care for it. Became a cop. And saved your miserable little life.” Mike leaned in close. “But if you ever do anything like that again I will personally wring your neck.”

“Why, Mike, I didn’t know you cared.”

Mike bristled. “About you, I don’t. But I’ve gotten used to Christina.” He gave her a wink. “She’s cute.”

“You should have told me what you were doing.”

“Nah. If you’d known, you’d have blown it. Or kept Vicki out of the loop. Or sent her away.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, Ben. I know how stupid you can be. It’s staggering.”

Christina gave Mike a stern look. “You told Vicki to put that stuff in her résumé about speaking French, didn’t you? You knew that would reel me in.”

Mike spread his hands. “What can I say?”

Christina feigned a hurt expression. “I feel so used.”

“If I may, ladies and gentlemen,” Judge Lacayo said, easing forward in his black leather chair. “I hate to interrupt a delightful conversation just because this is my chambers, but could we talk about the case at hand?”