Page 68 of The Accomplice
I could see him putting the brakes on. He put both hands out, as if he were about to break his fall. He looked at me like I’d just handed him a winning hand of four aces in a poker game when he already held three of them.
‘What the hell is this, Eddie ?’ he asked. ‘That’s Carrie Miller up there, right ?’
‘You’d better get a hold of your men,’ I said.
The guy in the mac had his gun drawn and pointed at Harry and Peltier. Otto was on his feet, hands in the air.
Harry didn’t give one shit. His steak had arrived, and he was ignoring the shouting from the FBI agent. Just cutting into his meat and enjoying his beer.
The construction guys had followed the woman in white behind the fish tank. I could see them in their shooting stance, bellowing instructions for Carrie to get on the floor.
The whole restaurant had erupted. People were frightened, and most of them were trying to leave, maybe without paying.
As Seong made his way to the back he was trying to calm everyone down. I followed him. I didn’t want to miss this.
Seong came around the fish tank to the table behind it. He immediately grabbed the arms of the high-vis guys and got them to lower their weapons. I came around the corner and saw the lady in the wig on her knees, cowering on the floor. She had removed her mask and now it was clear she wasnotCarrie Miller.
Betty Clarke from theSentinel, with her connections in the court office, had texted me the lady’s name, but I couldn’t remember it. All I knew from what Betty told me was she came from an agency called Classical Companions, she charged two hundred an hour for the pleasure of her company and that she would be here to meet a regular client at the Commodore. It was the client I was interested in.
The schmuck paying the two hundred had his hands raised, and his mouth open, on the other side of the table. As Seong got his men under control, the schmuck’s expression switched from shock to indignant rage. Now he looked more familiar.
The client, and schmuck, Judge Stoker, lowered his hands, screamed, ‘What is the meaning of this ? !’ just at the same moment Drew White came around the corner and realized that between him and Seong, they’d been set up.
‘Your Honor—’ began White, but it was drowned out by Stoker.
‘What the hell are you doing ? I’m having lunch with my … girlfriend,’ said the judge, and took his date by the arm to try and settle her down.
‘I’m so sorry, Judge,’ said White. ‘We had information that Carrie Miller would be here in this restaurant right now. We’re sorry, we saw this lady, you know, the wig, and we figured it was Miller in disguise …’
‘What kind of information ? Who told you this ?’
‘I did, Your Honor,’ I said. ‘Only I didn’t tell the district attorney. I called Otto Peltier and toldhim. Carrie Miller was never coming to this restaurant. We knew you’d be here. I got a tip from the court staff that this was your regular lunch place. I didn’t know you’d be with your girlfriend. For that I’m sorry, but, Your Honor, this proves that my phone and the phones belonging to the entire defense team have been tapped by the DA’s office.’
I lied, but only a little. Of course we knew he’d be here with his escort. We’d paid extra for her to wear the wig and the mask so she’d look like a lady in disguise and the feds would jump on her thinking she was Carrie Miller. The whole performance was for Stoker.
‘Is this true ?’ asked Stoker.
Rubbing his temples, Bill Seong closed his eyes and probably wished he was anywhere else on earth rather than right here. White said nothing.
‘Mr. White, either you answer my question, or I will be holding you and every cop and federal agent in this restaurant in contempt. You can answer me now, or you can go to the cells and think about it there …’
‘Yes, Your Honor. There is a warrant which permits a wire tap—’
‘Well, that warrant is now struck down, do you hear me ? And you hand over to Flynn every document, tape and digital recording you’ve got. And you …’ said the judge, now looking at me with that almost purple face.
Stoker was going to put on a show. Do a little shouting and threaten me and White. But he couldn’t make any kind of official complaint because his girlfriend charged by the hour, and not just for lunch. He wouldn’t want any of this on any kind of record. Likewise for White. He’d just put the FBI through an expensive surveillance operation to catch the judge’s call girl. He wanted to forget this asap.
‘I know you played the DA, but youusedme,’ said Stoker. ‘So you’ll get your records, but you can kiss goodbye to any kind of motion for a mistrial. If you find something in the wire tap records then file a motion, but right now,no way. You set this whole thing up. You can’t manufacture your own mistrial. And if either one of you tell the jury the DA is bugging the defense lawyer’s phones, then therewill bea mistrial. I’ll have no choice but to declare one. But if that happens, I will report both of you to the bar ethics committee and you’ll lose your license. Do I make myself clear ? The jury cannot hear about any of this. Got it ? Do youbothunderstand ?’ said Stoker, a thick vein standing out in his neck. I thought the guy might have a heart attack right there.
White apologized again.
I didn’t.
‘Your Honor, there’s one more thing,’ I said.
‘What ? !’ he yelled, sending flecks of white spittle over the table and the feds that were standing closest to him.
‘I need you to dismiss juror Ethel Gorman.’
