William Bernhardt - Cruel Justice

“None at all, your honor. We’ll even pay our own costs.”

“Smart move, counsel.” She apologized to the jurors and formally discharged them. “This case is dismissed. Court is adjourned.”

Ben ran forward to intercept the judge before she retreated into chambers. “Your honor, I want to apologize again for being late. And I’m also sorry about, well, the disruption in the courtroom. I know it’s not the first time—and I’m truly sorry.”

“Not at all, Mr. Kincaid,” she replied, smiling. “Your cases do tend to be a bit irregular. But my goodness, they’re always entertaining.”

4

JESSIE THANKED BEN PROFUSELY. “I just don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t agreed to help me. Dixie was absolutely right. ‘You can trust our Ben,’ she told me.” Jessie leaned forward and kissed Ben on the cheek. “She was right.”

“Well, thanks …” Ben mumbled awkwardly.

“Now, don’t think I’ve forgotten your fee.” She reached for a wad of cash tucked strategically inside her blouse. By Ben’s reckoning, it was a hundred dollars, tops. “I know it’s not much, but I want you—”

“Jessie,” Ben said, “is that all the money you have in the world?”

“Well, yes …”

He frowned. “Keep it.”

“But—”

“And buy a bus ticket home.”

“Home! You think—”

“Yeah. I do. At the least, put it toward getting a new place to live. And a new occupation.”

“Well … if you’re sure …”

“I’m sure.”

She leaned forward and kissed him again, square on the lips. “Dixie was right. You’re the best!”

Or the cheapest, anyway, Ben thought as he watched her leave.

Jack Bullock intercepted Ben on his way back to counsel table.

Ben stretched out his hand and smiled. “It’s great to see you again, Jack. Even if it had to be—”

Bullock cut him off. “So this is what’s become of you, Ben?”

Ben’s brow knitted. “What’s become …? I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about your wasting your talents putting prostitutes back on the street.”

Ben shrugged his shoulders. “Jack … Jessie is just a teenager. She ran away from home and didn’t know what to do—”

“Don’t give me your closing argument. This is Jack, remember? Jack Bullock. I know the way of the world.”

“I guess I don’t understand. …”

“I’m the one who doesn’t understand, Ben. I don’t understand how you ended up representing the same sleazebags we used to bust our guts trying to put behind bars.”

Ben felt a catch in his throat. “Jack, everyone is entitled to a defense. …”

“Don’t try to squirm away with some civics class lecture. I know perfectly well that every hairball is entitled to a defense. I also know there’ll always be some ambulance chaser ready to give it to them. I just can’t believe it’s you.”

“Jack … this is just one case. …”

“One case of many. Since I moved to the Tulsa office, I’ve been asking around about you. You seem to have made a career out of setting free creeps the police have sweated blood to catch.”

“A lot of those people were wrongly accused, Jack. Some of them were as innocent as—”

“Don’t be such a sucker. Most of the people the police arrest are guilty—if not of the crime charged, then of something else. And you know it.”

“Still, the Bill of Rights ensures—”

“And don’t behave like a stupid schoolboy. We all have to grow up sometime, Ben. We all have to face reality.”

“Everyone is entitled to a fair trial. That’s the law.”

“Don’t ‘fair trial’ me. What you did here today had nothing to do with law. You performed a bit of sleight of hand to subvert the law.”

“But—”

“The law should be the law. For everyone. Period. No exceptions.”

“But you can’t treat everyone like interchangeable ciphers, Jack. Some people are not well educated and they can’t afford—”

Bullock shook his head in disgust. “Listen to you, rattling off trite liberal homilies. You’re defensive, because you know I’m right.” He lowered his eyes. “I’m so disappointed, Ben. How could you let this happen to you?”

Ben felt a sharp stinging in his eyes. “Jack, I don’t know what to say. …”

“When you and I were colleagues, our work meant something. What we did was significant. We went shoulder to shoulder against the enemy, striking important blows for the good and the right.”

“You don’t have to remind me, Jack. The time we spent together was perhaps the most meaningful—”

“Stow the flattery, okay? I invested a lot of time in you, Ben. I taught you everything I knew. I can’t believe you’re now using that knowledge to thwart justice. I can’t believe you sold out to the other side.”

“Sold out? I can’t even pay my bills.”

“I expected you to have a positive impact in this world. I thought you were going to make a difference. Instead, I find you resorting to pathetic courtroom high jinks to set the guilty free. Are you going to spend the rest of your life representing every petty felon and hard-luck story that slithers into your office?”

“I had an obligation to represent my client zealously.”

Bullock’s upper lip curled. “I’m trying to clean up the streets, to make this state a decent place to live, to raise a family. And frankly, I’m tired of seeing my work short-circuited by two-bit shysters willing to sell their souls for a quick buck!”

“Jack …” Ben’s voice suddenly became quiet. “You were like a father to me. More so … than my own father.”

“And you were like a son. That’s why I can’t stand to see what’s happened to you.” He turned his back to Ben and returned to his table. “Someone needs to remind you what it’s all about,” he muttered. “Someone needs to teach you a lesson.”

Ben’s face contorted. “What is that, some kind of threat?”

Bullock began packing his briefcase. “I’ve got a lot of friends here at the courthouse. In fact, I’ve got a lot of friends everywhere.”

“What’s your point, Jack?”

“How long can you go on representing the scum of the earth?” His eyes met Ben’s. “Someone needs to straighten you out, Ben. Before it’s too late.” And with that, Bullock marched out of the courtroom.

Christina inched forward and filled the space vacated by Bullock. “So,” she said, “what was that about?”

Ben’s head turned slowly. “That was about the most depressing conversation I’ve had in my entire life.”

“I heard what he said vis-à-vis straightening you out. Jeez, you’d think he’d never lost a case.”

“It isn’t that,” Ben said. “He just … believes strongly in what he does.”

“Just the same, you’d better steer clear of criminal work for a while, Ben. Sounds to me like Bullock may be gunning for you.”

“Bullock doesn’t control the whole judicial system.”

“Maybe not, but he could do some major damage.”

Ben had learned long ago to trust Christina’s instincts. He’d been working with her in one capacity or another since he moved to Tulsa, and he’d never known those instincts to be wrong yet. They were her greatest asset—even greater than her legal-assistant skills, which were considerable.

“Christina, you’ve been with me for some time now. Am I doing a disservice?”

“A disservice? What do you mean?”

“Oh … you know. Contributing to the crime rate. Putting pond scum back on the street.”

“Like who? Me?” Ben had represented Christina a few years before when she found herself accused of murder.

“That was an exceptional case. Most of the time—”