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“Cuff yourself,” Hubbell said. “Then we can talk.”
“This is unnecessary,” Joe said. “I have nothing against you, Clem.”
Hubbell pointed the gun at the wall next to where Joe sat and fired it. The sound was loud, and it reverberated for long seconds.
Hubbell said, “Next shot’s for you.”
Joe picked up the cuffs and clasped one, then the other around his wrists. He moved the chain to get a sense of how long it was. About five feet. He could get to the toilet, but it was too short for him to reach Hubbell, who sat facing him in a swivel chair.
“What’s your name?” a relaxed Clement Hubbell asked Joe.
“Joe.”
“Joe what?”
“Hogan.”
“OK, Joe Hogan. Get comfortable. I feel like I’ve been waiting to meet you for a very long time.”
CHAPTER 82
THE DOOR TO Leonard Parisi’s office was closed when Yuki arrived for the meeting. She checked the time, confirming that she was six minutes late. She explained to Parisi’s assistant that she’d been stopped at the security desk downstairs, but before Darlene could speak, Parisi opened his door.
“I thought I heard your voice,” he said. “We’re waiting.”
Parisi’s office took up a big corner section of the second floor. It was huge for offices in the Hall, but whatever it gained in size, it lost in its proximity to the sounds of the heavy traffic on Bryant Street.
Chief of Detectives Warren Jacobi was at the round oak conference table with his back to the windows. Parisi, Yuki’s former boss and mentor, took the seat closest to his desk, and Yuki sat between the two men, not far from the door.
Darlene passed bottled water around, and Parisi asked her to hold his calls, then said to Yuki, “You’re on first.”
Yuki took a pull from her water bottle. After five years of being Parisi’s protégée, she felt that the table had turned one hundred and eighty degrees.
This was her meeting. And she hoped she could pull it off.
“I’ve got a meeting with the mayor in fifteen minutes,” Jacobi said.
Yuki said, “I’ll get right to the point. I met with two new witnesses yesterday. They are reluctantly willing to cooperate if they get protection.
“If they tell what they know, we’ll have a strong lead on the identities of the parties who killed the dope dealers on Turk and Dodge. We’ll also know who killed Aaron-Rey Kordell.”
Parisi said, “This is what subpoenas are for, Counselor. Let’s hear their testimonies.”
“Only with protection, Len. Both witnesses are in fear for their lives, with good reason. I’m going to tell you what each of these men said, and if we can reach an agreement, I’ll set up meetings. I think you’ll want to settle the Kordell case out of court.”
“Doubtful,” Parisi said. “But go ahead and convince me.”
“Will do,” Yuki said. “My first witness will admit under oath that he killed Aaron-Rey Kordell.”
“Where are you going with this?” Parisi asked. “We don’t contest that Kordell was murdered in jail. Why would we protect his murderer? We should charge him.”
Yuki said, “This man was hired to—and I quote—‘Put Kordell down quick,’ in exchange for being moved to a different penal facility.”
“Who promised him that?” Parisi asked.
Yuki said, “A police officer did that, Len.”
“Why?” Jacobi asked. “Why would a cop want Kordell dead?”
