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“That’s what I’m talking about.” For once, it seemed like things might be going his way. “Great news, right?” Mamba prodded Cobra.
“Let’s see what she’s got.” His lack of enthusiasm confused Mamba, especially since Cobra spent the last week and a half up his ass.
Syd clicked a small remote control, and one of the three monitors suspended from the ceiling came to life. It showed Mamba standing outside the club on the sidewalk flanked by two cops.
“Pay close attention to the timestamp.” Another click of the remote, and she enlarged the corner of the video to reveal the time as 12:27 a.m.
She pushed another button, and the second monitor came to life, showing a grainy, dimly lit photo of a man’s back in the alley behind the Rook. The man backhanded and repeatedly slapped whoever stood in front of him.
Mamba fisted the arms of his chair as he leaned in, his eyes wide and breathing choppy. The man in the video delivered one more blow, then disappeared down the alley, revealing Mandy slumped against the brick wall.
“Fuck.” Mamba swallowed the bile threatening to creep up his throat.
“Again, gentlemen, check the timestamp.” Syd enlarged the corner of the screen to show the time as 12:29 a.m. “Utterly impossible for you to be in the alley since you were already in handcuffs at the time.”
Mamba nodded his head, but the relief of his proven innocence faded against the video’s brutality. The surveillance tape ended, but the sight of Mandy crumbling against the wall, alone, probably scared and hurting, tore at his insides. He wanted to reach into the screen and somehow comfort her.
CHAPTERFOUR
Mamba’s visceral reaction surprised him. He was no stranger to violence and savage acts, some by his hand. He was a cage fighter, for fuck’s sake, but seeing Mandy brutally beaten without a chance of defense ripped him up.
“I’ve already sent a copy of this tape on to the prosecution. When he sees this, he’ll have no option but to drop the case. There’ll be some routine paperwork, but it looks like you’re a free man.” Syd looked to Cobra. “Once the case is filed, your bail will be refunded within six to eight weeks.”
“Are there any more tapes of the alley?”
“No, but these two are enough to prove your case.” Syd flipped off one monitor and then the other.
Mamba stood, his eyes fixed on the blank monitors. “Do you know who was beating up on her?”
“No idea. His identity is unimportant. The main fact is, you said you were innocent, and this proves it.”
“Right.” Except now he had to find out who the lowlife bastard was who thought tuning a woman up in a dark alley was a good idea.
“I don’t like the look on your face.” Syd tilted her head. “This is a time for celebration, yet you look like you’re about to explode right here on my Moroccan carpet.”
Mamba shoved his fists into the pockets of his jeans. “I wanna know who was in the video.”
“No, you really don’t.” Syd stood and leaned her palms on the polished chrome of her desk. “What you want to do is go back to the Gold Mine, have a few beers, and celebrate your freedom.”
She turned to Cobra. “It’s imperative you impress on your enforcer this is not the time for enforcing, this is a time for jubilation.”
“Yeah, yeah, no worries,” Cobra assured her.
“Don’t entertain any ideas about retaliation or seeking out the victim or any of the Marauders. We don’t want to stir up anything else to put your innocence or your freedom in jeopardy.”
“Yeah, but—”
“We got it.” Cobra hit Mamba with a glare that said,Shut the fuck up and agree with her.
“Make sure you do because I know how you outlaws operate.” Syd came around the desk.
“So I’ve heard.” Cobra deadpanned.
Syd cocked her head but stayed quiet.
“I did a little digging on my own.” Cobra rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes pierced Syd’s. “Found some interesting information about you.”
“Really? Was it my scholarship to Chicago Law or my graduating at the top of my class?”
