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“I won’t.”
And I wouldn’t. Not now. Not ever.
Chapter 9
Never judge a book by its movie.
-T-shirt
Loki
Monday morning
0900 hours.
Strong v. The State of Louisiana
“All I’m asking, your honor, is for a hold to be put on the trial until after the holidays.” Varian’s lawyer, Joshua Fine, said pleadingly.
The judge, Abraham Keen, glared at him from under bushy eyebrows. “And like I said, Mr. Fine, you need to get your client to work with the DA, and this could all be over before the holidays. If not, they we’ll be starting the trial tomorrow. Is that clear?”
Even me, a lowly paid detective for the BPD, knew better than to contradict Judge Keen; obviously, Varian’s bozo lawyer did not.
His gavel clanged hard against the wood of his desk. “Mr. Fine, the next words out of your mouth better be something related to the case and not your Christmas break, or you’ll be held in contempt of court.”
Fine’s mouth thinned into a pissed off line as he held his tongue and took his seat. Then he motioned with his hand in Dortea’s direction.
“We offer you a reduced sentence of twenty five years if you will give us the names of the men who’ve been helping you while you were incarcerated over the past five months,” Dortea said stiffly.
“On one condition.” Varian said ignoring his lawyer’s attempt to beckon him to stop speaking.
“Mr. Strong, I advise you to take counsel with your lawyer before you go making deals that you can’t get out of,” Judge Keen said in a bored tone.
“We’ve spoken at length about this already. I’d just like to have my thoughts on record, and then we can discuss a deal,” he grinned at the old man.
Judge Keen’s eyes narrowed, but that was the only outward sign that he was annoyed.
“And that would be, Mr. Strong?” Dortea asked sweetly.
“I want to speak to Rector. Alone.” Varian smiled.
They all turned to me at once.
I was sitting in the back of the room.
I was only supposed to be there in case any of the facts were needed on the case. I wasn’t supposed to actually be needed.
That motherfucker.
I nodded once, and they all stood, emptying the room out in less than a minute.
Varian’s lawyer was the last to leave, and he glared at me, as if saying with his mind that I’d better watch it.
What did he take me as? A vagrant?
“What do you want, Strong?” I asked once the lawyer closed the door.
“Nothing. I’m going to take the plea. I just wanted to see your face when I said what I had to say,” he said smoothly.
