Lassiter 08 - Lassiter (31 page)

“You said the figure was a man, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Did you clearly see this man?”

He shot a look at Krista, gave a little shrug that seemed to say,
“What can I do?”

“Clear enough,” he said.

“Who was it?”

Ziegler sighed, a long whistling breath. He’d come this far. He’d scorched the earth behind him. Why stop now?

“It was Alex Castiel.”

A hundred gasps seemed to suck all the air out of the courtroom.

“Alex Castiel shot Max,” Ziegler continued.

“That’s a lie!” Castiel on his feet now. “That’s a goddamn lie and you know it!”

The judge banged her gavel. “Sit down, Mr. Castiel.”

The State Attorney slumped back into his chair.

“Were you finished with your answer?” the judge asked.

“Alex killed the guy,” Ziegler went on. “That’s all I was going to say, Your Honor. Then Alex blamed it on the sister of the woman he tried to kill. That’s the damn ugly truth.”

“We stand in recess.” Judge Duckworth banged her gavel. “Counsel, my chambers, now! Bailiff, please summon two sheriff’s deputies.”

The judge stood and disappeared through the door behind the bench.

I had failed to get to my feet when the judge rose. I was still reeling.

Alex Castiel killed his surrogate father
.

There was a certain logic to it. Perlow was about to be indicted on the slot-machine case. All his life, Castiel listened to his uncle Max telling him to be ruthless, to save himself first. So Castiel figured the teacher would do what he taught. Perlow’s get-out-of-jail-free card was his ability to bring down the State Attorney. Tell the feds about Alex being a bagman for a porn producer, then beating a girl to death, and who knows what else over the years? Maybe Castiel was wrong; maybe Perlow never would have talked. Now we’ll never know.

Amy squeezed my arm and breathed, “Thank you,” into my ear.

Krista stepped through the gate and joined us at the defense table. The sisters hugged, and Krista said, “Is the case over, Jake?” Hope rippling her voice like a stream over rocks.

“Not quite yet. Let’s see what the judge has to say.”

“Whatever happens, you were wonderful, Jake.”

That gave me the chance for a long overdue apology. “Krista, I’m sorry I didn’t step up when I had the chance. Sorry I didn’t keep you safe.”

Krista gave me a soft, rueful smile. “Don’t sweat it, Jake. In the shit storm of my life, you weren’t even a drizzle.”

I wasn’t willing to be let off the hook so easily. “If I knew then what I know now, I would have been a better man.”

She laughed and gave me a knowing smile. “Amy’s told me all about you. You’re a better man now.”

“You sure about that?”

“You’ve proved it by helping Amy.”

I started for the judge’s chambers, but Amy grabbed my sleeve. “Do you think the jurors believe Charlie?”

“I do.”

“About everything? Not just that it wasn’t me. But that Castiel shot Perlow with my gun.”

I recited the evidence of what I figured would become the second trial:
State v. Castiel
. “Once Castiel had the bullets you fired into my tires, all he needed was to get the gun from your motel. He had evidence of your stalking, your threats against Ziegler, and now the forensic evidence. By making it look like a botched attempt to kill Ziegler, you were just like Castiel’s law school diploma.”

Her look shot me a question.

“Suitable for framing.” I stuffed my briefcase and headed for the door behind the bench. Her Honor was waiting.

Judge Duckworth’s chambers were a quiet place with the scent of leather furniture and old books. A pair of sheriff’s deputies guarded the door, one on the inside, one on the outside.

Her Honor wasted no time. As soon as the court stenographer had set up her little machine, the judge started in. “Mr. Castiel, do you have anything to say about the accusations made against you under oath in my courtroom?”

Stone-faced, the State Attorney said, “Not until I speak to my lawyer.”

“Fine. You are hereby removed from this case. I’m declaring a mistrial on my own motion. I expect the Governor will suspend you,
instanter
, pending an investigation. I’m ordering the defendant released from custody and strongly recommending to your replacement that charges be dismissed with prejudice.”

Yes! That’s what I wanted to hear. The case was won, or nearly so.

“In the meantime, I am instructing the county sheriff that you be barred from the State Attorney’s Office. All files of this case will be sealed until an acting State Attorney is appointed. Do you have any questions?”

“May I be excused to call my lawyer?”

“Not yet.” The judge turned to me and left her smile at home. “Mr. Lassiter, I have never been a fan of your courtroom methods.”

Ouch
.

“But today, you really showed something in there.”

Oh
.

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

“You’ve come a long way. Since that time you scored a touchdown for the wrong team, I mean.”

“Safety,” I corrected her.

“That’s it, then. We’re in adjournment.” She rose and flew out of her chambers, robes trailing, looking like a nun on her way to Mass.

Castiel and I got to our feet at the same time. He seemed to stumble a bit. I didn’t know if his knees buckled, if he tripped on the chair leg, or if he was having a stroke. I caught him by the elbow, and he yanked away from me. We stood there a moment, eyeing each other. His complexion had gone all sallow under his tan, and his eyes were blank and bottomless.

“Go ahead, Jake. Say it.”

“Okay. You turn my stomach. You want me to go on? Because that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“I didn’t kill Max.”

“Like they say, tell it to the judge.”

“Max Perlow did everything for me that Meyer couldn’t do. To think that I’d kill him because I was afraid he’d flip on me, it’s crazy. I loved the man.”

“It’s a good argument. I’ll try to be in the gallery when your lawyer makes it.”

“Goddammit, Jake. I’m being framed, can’t you see that?”

“I doubt Charlie Ziegler is smart enough or tough enough to do it.”

“He had help from Krista. I figure her for the shooter.”

“You’re pissing upwind, Alex.”

I started to leave, and this time, he grabbed my arm. “Ziegler’s the way in, Jake. He’s the weak link.”

“In where? Link to what? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Breaking the conspiracy. Proving they used you and framed me.”

“Good luck with that, Alex. Let me know how it turns out.”

“A long time ago, you had a dirtbag client and you did the right thing.”

“A wire? That’s what you want me to do?”

“Your brethren hated you for it, but you didn’t care. You wear your cynicism on your sleeve, but deep down, you believe in the system. You believe
in justice.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve always admired that about you, because I don’t believe in anything.”

“So you admit you’re corrupt?”

“Maybe it’s in the Lansky genes, but yeah, I’m dirty.”

“You can’t blame your old man for this. It’s
you
, Alex.”

“Okay, I’m corrupt. Through and through. Happy now?”

“And you admit you beat Krista within an inch of her life?”

“I was strung out on meth and coke.”

“So now you’re blaming the drugs?”

“I nearly killed her. It’s on me, I admit it, okay?”

“So why would I help you?”

He spoke through gritted teeth. “Because they used you, Jake. Krista’s grand entrance into the courtroom. Charlie all shocked. The phony alibi. You think that wasn’t planned?”

“No idea. All I know is that you’re a worthless piece of scum.”

“But I didn’t kill Max, Jake. I swear to God I didn’t.”

Three days after the precipitous end of the murder trial, I was invited to dinner at Ziegler’s house. A foursome. Charlie and Krista. Amy and me. We could have played bridge.

Earlier that day, the Governor appointed an acting State Attorney, who immediately dismissed all charges against Amy on account of prosecutorial misconduct. I gave her the news by phone, and she whooped with joy. Her tone of voice had become free and uninhibited. A new woman.

The acting State Attorney immediately announced a Grand Jury would hear evidence against Alex Castiel for Perlow’s murder. Ziegler was delighted with that news. On the home front, Lola had moved out of Casa Ziegler, Krista had moved in, and Amy was set up in the guesthouse.

A happy family.

Of murderers, according to Alex Castiel.

I promised I would take a shot at them. Not because I wanted to help Castiel. I believed what I said in the judge’s chambers. He wasn’t worth the effort. But a piece of Ziegler’s testimony didn’t hold up, and it nagged at me. I would confront him with it. If I had been used to frame a man for murder, I was going to do something about it. Not for Alex Castiel. But for me.

And so just like old times, I wore a wire.

We ate squab in a sticky sweet sauce, and Krista told me about her life.

When she was near death, it was Ziegler who quietly got her to a private hospital, then flew her to New York for facial reconstruction, and finally five months in a rehab facility.

“Charlie helped me walk again. Worked with me on speech therapy. When I was better, he got me a job in a casino in Tahoe, but I couldn’t stand on my feet all those hours. I got messed up with painkillers and attempted suicide. Charlie put me into therapy, got me straightened out again.”

Ziegler was her common denominator. He’d been there—for better or worse—since she was seventeen. A few years ago, he’d convinced her to move back to Florida so they could be together.

All told, she had been in hiding eighteen years. Castiel thought she was dead. A living, breathing Krista Larkin could ruin him. I understood all that. But something puzzled me.

“Why didn’t you contact your family all these years?”

“I tried! I called my father when I was still in the hospital. By then, he’d found out what I was doing in Miami. He told me I was a slut who was being punished by God, that I would be better off dead.”

I remembered the photo from Bozo’s that Sonia Majeski had given Krista’s father. He’d written on the back:
“The Whore of Babylon.”

“He said if I tried to talk to Amy, he’d tell her all about me,” Krista continued. “He made me feel so ashamed. After a while, I told myself Krista Larkin was dead, so I buried her. I was Melody Sanders, a new person with a new life.”

But that was years ago and raised another question. “When Amy came to town, why did you wait to reach out to her?”

“Charlie asked me to chill for a few days, so he could figure out the situation. He was worried about Amy’s reaction if I told her the truth about Castiel. What if she went after him with a gun?”

“But then she comes after Charlie with a gun,” I said. “Or threatened to.”

“Which is when I contacted Amy without telling Charlie.”

“After Amy was charged, you could have come forward with your alibi.”

“I told her not to,” Amy said, “because Charlie said we could win without exposing Krista to the world.”

“The world” meaning Castiel.

I didn’t like the story, but so far, I didn’t have any evidence to contradict it. Of course, I still hadn’t questioned Ziegler.

After dinner, the sisters were floating on rafts in the swimming pool, gabbing and laughing and catching up on all those years apart. Ziegler and I sat in his study, my host in a fine mood. I was eyeing the artwork and an impressive gold-plated statuette of a naked woman. It was the People’s Porn award for one of Ziegler’s classics:
Driving Miss Daizy Crazy
.

“I’d like to pay Amy’s attorney’s fees,” he offered, agreeably.

“Nothing to pay. I told her I’d handle her case pro bono.”

“Doesn’t seem right. I’d feel better if I paid you.”

“I’d feel better if you didn’t.”

“Suit yourself. My life’s fine either way.”

Yes, it surely was. At least until I was through with him tonight.

Ziegler hauled a bottle of cognac out of a cabinet so we could toast the legal system and justice for all. We’d had frosty martinis before dinner. We’d moved on to that pricey daiginjo sake Ziegler liked so much, and now we were hitting the cognac. I wanted to loosen Ziegler’s tongue, preferably without having to yank it out with my hands.

“A Léopold Gourmel,” he said, pouring the cognac into a snifter, “aged thirteen years. I think you’ll catch a whiff of almonds and orange zest.”

He swirled, sniffed, and sipped, quite pleased with himself.

It seemed to be a good time to start asking questions. “What I still don’t get, Charlie, is why you I.D.’d Amy the night of the shooting.”

“Told you before, Castiel pressured me.”

“Yeah, but this is your lover’s sister we’re talking about.”

“Half sister,” he said. “Someone she hadn’t seen since she was a kid. Besides, I pretty much assumed it
was
Amy shooting at me, and since she missed, I thought she might come back for a second try.”

“So you didn’t get a good look?”

“Well …”

“Because in court, you I.D.’d Alex Castiel.”

“It sort of came back to me later.”

“Really? How’s that work?”

“I thought it through, afterward. You gotta remember, Max recognized the shooter. He said ‘You?’ sounding real surprised—hurt, even. I looked up, saw this figure I later realized was Alex.”

“Later?”

“Yeah. Combining all the factors.”

“With all due respect to a fine host …”

“Yeah?”

“That’s a load of crap.”

Ziegler held his look for a moment, then burst out with a laugh. “Aw, what do you care, Lassiter? Castiel’s a fucking lowlife.”

“Agreed.” I laughed, too, rough and hearty. I thought it best to let that issue go for a moment. Our conversation was being recorded. I had a good start and didn’t want to spook him by hitting too hard too fast. “We’ve come a long way, you and me, Charlie.”