Mob Lawyer 5: A Legal Thriller Read online

  “We have one witness that is here already,” the corrupt lawyer said as he motioned toward a woman that sat in the gallery behind him.

  I heard myself groan and I shot my client a quick look. Adams must have had her escorted in after we’d taken our spots, and I shook my head at his bit of trickery.

  The witness was an elderly woman with steel-gray hair tied back into a bun who stood up on thin, shaky legs. Her black dress consumed her tiny frame, and her olive skin was covered in wrinkles. She looked up at me with a small smile on her thin lips, but her dark brown eyes were softer than someone who was about to nail my client to a cross.

  “Your Honor--” I started to protest as I felt my motion slipping away.

  “She’s on the list?” the Judge asked.

  “She is,” Adams confirmed.

  I nodded when the Judge looked in my direction. I’d done my own sweep of the neighborhood and talked to the same people that Adams had, so I couldn’t argue that I hadn’t had the opportunity to depose the witness.

  “Then I’ll hear what she has to say,” the Judge declared. “We’ll consider your motion after that.”

  I sighed inwardly, but nodded to the Judge again. Adams looked positively gleeful, and for a moment, he seemed to forget that he still had to ask the woman questions. I shook my head at him, and then stepped to the gate that separated the gallery from the court where the woman now waited impatiently.

  She hobbled through as I held the gate open for her while Adams just stared at her and then made her way over to the witness stand. Her hand shook as she lifted it to the Bible and made the customary oath to tell the truth, but her back was ramrod straight like she had books balanced on her head.

  “Mrs. Bianchi, are you ready to testify today?” Adams asked in a sugary sweet tone that made me sick to my stomach.

  “I am,” the older woman said in a surprisingly strong voice.

  “Great,” my opponent said as he walked around the table. “Can you start by telling me who you are?’

  “We just went through that,” the sharp-witted old woman said with a small smile. “But, I suppose I can do it again. My name is Leah Bianchi. I have lived and worked in the neighborhood my entire life. I knew Mr. Rossi when he was still just a little bambino.”

  “It must be hard for you to see what kind of man he’s become,” Adams said in mock-support.

  “He’s a fine young man,” Leah huffed as she narrowed her eyes.

  “And yet you are here to testify against him for the assault that he perpetrated on an innocent man,” the prosecutor said with a look toward the jury.

  The jury were all focused intently on the older woman, and I’d seen more than one of them soften as the older woman struggled up the steps. I wasn’t sure what she was about to say since she hadn’t claimed to know anything when I talked to her, but it would probably be damning, and I would have some serious damage control to do on cross-examination.

  “I didn’t see any assault,” Mrs. Bianchi stated.

  “Excuse me?” the corrupt lawyer asked as he whirled to stare at the old Italian woman.

  “I believe you heard me, young man,” the grandmother-like woman said with a soft smile. “I did hear Mr. Rossi talking to the man you say he assaulted, but at most it was an argument. We Italians are a passionate people, but little Rossi didn’t hit him.”

  “And where did you see this ‘passionate argument’ taking place?” Adams asked through clenched teeth.

  His neck and face had started to turn bright red as the woman basically testified that my client hadn’t done anything wrong, and I had to fight the Cheshire cat grin that wanted to spread across my face. His own witness was about to testify for my client, and he had nothing else to pin on Rossi. Both of his bosses would probably have something to say about it if my client got off because of a witness that he’d called to the stand.

  “Oh, it was outside,” Leah said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “They went inside when everyone started to notice them. Some things are better discussed in private. You know how gossip can spread.”

  The older woman had aimed her last sentence at the jury rather than the fuming prosecutor in front of her, and I watched as a few of them nodded their heads in agreement.

  “Mrs. Bianchi,” my opponent said as he took a deep breath in. “Are you changing your testimony about what you witnessed?”

  “Of course not,” the older woman huffed. “I told you and that detective that I’d heard them arguing. And that’s what I just said.”

  Adams ground his teeth together as he paced between the witness stand and the prosecutor’s table. He looked up as an idea seemed to strike him, and I narrowed my eyes as I wondered what bullshit he was about to try.

  “Mrs. Bianchi,” he started as he strolled over to her. “Can you tell me why you are the only witness to come to court today? Do you think the others might have cold feet because they’re afraid that Mr. Rossi will attack them, too?”

  “Of course not,” Leah said. “Rossi is a good boy. He takes care of the neighborhood. Everyone knows that. When my oven went out, Rossi got some guys together and helped to replace it even though it was on the third floor. He didn’t even let me feed him after he carried that heavy thing up the stairs. You see, I don’t have an elevator in my building.”

  “Please address all of your answers to me and not the jury,” Adams said with a pained smile.

  His icy-blue eyes flashed with indignation as he stared at the little elderly lady on the witness stand, and I wondered if the jury had seen his flash of anger as well.

  “Your Honor,” I said as I stood. “It’s clear that Mrs. Bianchi didn’t see this alleged assault. She has given her testimony. And without any other witnesses, there isn’t a case against my client.”

  “I would like to ask for a continuance,” the corrupt prosecutor said. “Twenty-four hours to find out why the witnesses have suddenly become too scared to testify.”

  “Mrs. Bianchi doesn’t seem scared of my client,” I said. “In fact, she has given him nothing but glowing reviews.”

  “And I wondered what he threatened her with to get those,” Adams snapped.

  “Gentleman,” Judge Goldberg said as he raised his hands in the air to silence us. “Mrs. Bianchi, thank you for your time. You are dismissed.”

  “Thank you,” the older woman said.

  She stood on her shaky legs and teetered down from the witness stand. She gave my client a warm grin as she passed our table, and I held the gate open for her as she went through it.

  “Your Honor,” the DA started as soon as Mrs. Bianchi was gone.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” Goldberg said. “I’ll give you your twenty-four hours. But you either produce witnesses, or I will dismiss this case for lack of evidence.”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” the furious lawyer said.

  “We will adjourn until tomorrow,” the judge said as he banged his gavel.

  I watched the jury as they all stood to file out of the courtroom. I was fairly certain that Mrs. Bianchi had turned at least a few of them in my client’s favor, so even if Adams could produce more witnesses, they would still vote in favor of my client. And all I needed was one.

  “That went well,” I said as I closed my briefcase.

  “Mrs. Bianchi has always been a nice lady,” Rossi said. “So I should be back here tomorrow at the same time?’

  “Yeah,” I said. “We’ll finish this up and get you back where you belong.”

  “Thanks,” the enforcer said with a small smile before he hurried out.

  The reporters had all turned their attention to Adams, and I waved at him as they swarmed him to ask whether all of his witnesses would testify in favor of Rossi.

  “That was hilarious,” Hank said as he fell into step beside me. “You were right. Adams is better than any book.”

  “Better than prime time,” I chuckled. “Though if he can’t get anyone else to show up, then he’ll probably try to prove witnes
s tampering. He won’t have anything, of course, but I wouldn’t put it past him to get creative.”

  “I wish I could take care of that guy,” my bodyguard grumbled in a dark tone that reminded me that he was very much a made man.

  “He’ll get his,” I promised. “When he’s sent to prison for the rest of his life.”

  “I guess,” the beefy man said with a shrug. “Where to next?”

  “I have to call Anthony,” I said as I fished out my phone. “And then we’re off to Queens for one last case for the day.”

  “Traffic is going to be hell this time of day,” Hank huffed.

  I gave him a sympathetic look before I dialed Anthony’s number. I stepped off to the side of the courthouse steps where our conversation was less likely to be overheard and waited as the phone rang.

  “How was court?” Anthony asked after the third ring.

  “Decent,” I said. “The only witness that showed up gave Rossi a glowing recommendation. Adams asked for a continuance to get the rest of the witnesses in order. The judge gave him twenty-four hours or he’ll dismiss the case.”

  “So one more day, and we’ll be done with this one,” my employer said. “Good work, Hunter. When can you come to the house?”

  “Not until later,” I said. “I have one more case in Queens this afternoon.”

  “Alright,” the Italian mobster said. “I’ll tell mom you’ll be here for dinner. The equipment has been taken care of. We can look at it after we eat.”

  The line went dead as Anthony hung up. He wasn’t particularly talkative on the phone, but then again, he could never know for sure who might be listening in.

  “Everything okay?” Hank asked as he peeled himself off of the wall behind me.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Let’s head to Queens.”

  I laughed as my bodyguard groaned and rolled his eyes before he fell into step behind me like a massive shadow.

  The trip out to the Queens courthouse went better than I expected. I managed to hit almost all green lights, and narrowly missed an accident that looked like it would block traffic for at least half an hour. I did have a little trouble with finding a parking spot, but I managed to squeeze into one with plenty of time to get inside.

  I breezed through security with Hank on my heels and then hurried down the corridor to my assigned courtroom. I didn’t expect much press at this case since it was a petty theft charge without any video surveillance of my client as he allegedly robbed a convenience store.

  “Mr. Morgan, thank you for joining us today,” the judge said from his bench. “Your cell phone better be off already.”

  “It is, sir,” I said with a bright smile as I set my briefcase down.

  My client was ushered in with the standard orange jumpsuit and chains on his ankles and wrists. He was a low level kid who had just started to work with the family. He hadn’t even graduated high school yet, and it was a waste of time to prosecute since he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone anything. He gave me a small smile and then winced as the bruise on his left cheek wrinkled from the effort.

  “Hey, Mr. Morgan,” he said.

  “Are you okay?” I asked as I looked for more bruises.

  “Yeah, it was just a stupid fight,” the young man said. “I know you said to stay out of trouble. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “Just don’t get into any more. I’m glad you’re alright.”

  “And where is Mr. Ordman?” the judge asked as a young lawyer I didn’t recognize came up to the prosecutor’s bench.

  He had on a threadbare brown suit with patches on the arms, a matching brown vest, and brown leather shoes that had a small hole on the outside of his left foot. He had wire-rimmed glasses perched on his long thin nose, and his shaggy brown hair dangled in front of his almost vacant hazel eyes. His angular jaw fought against a yawn as he opened his briefcase to pull out the case file, and I wondered when was the last time he’d had a decent night’s sleep.

  “I apologize, Your Honor,” the man said with a bob of his head. “Mr. Ordman is detained. He requested that I take over the case.”

  I was surprised that Ordman would send a crony since he’d been handling all of the cases himself, and then I wondered if it had something to do with the laptop. Maybe Ordman had done a runner once he learned the laptop was missing?

  I had a hard time believing the new attorney on the case would pursue it like Ordman had, but I didn’t want to let my guard down, either. It was perfectly possible that the young prosecutor was just a shark in a cheap suit. One of the partners at my old firm had worn Converse sneakers to court, and though he claimed it was for comfort, we all knew it was to make himself, and by proxy, his clients, look more human.

  “It’s fine,” the judge said with a wave of his hand. “Let’s get this started. Would you like to call your first witness, prosecutor?”

  “Uh,” the young man said. “Actually, Your Honor. Um, I would like to-to request a dismissal.”

  “Excuse me?” the magistrate asked. “Does DA Ordman know about this?”

  “Yes-yes, sir,” the ADA stuttered.

  The judge narrowed his eyes at my opponent as if he wasn’t sure he believed the disheveled attorney.

  I started to ask why since there had been a fairly decent amount of witnesses on the list that had been sent over to me, but I decided to let it go. I didn’t need to spend any more of my time on this case if I didn’t have to, and it wasn’t as if Ordman had strong evidence against my client, anyway.

  “May I ask what spurred this sudden change of heart?” the judge asked.

  “It seems that most of the witnesses have recanted, your honor,” the prosecutor said as he pushed his glasses further up his nose.

  “Surely you have enough still,” the magistrate said as he picked up the long list in front of him.

  “No, sir,” the ADA said. “We believe that there may have been some witness tampering.”

  “That is a complete fabrication,” I objected. “My client is a high school student who has been in Rikers since his arrest.”

  “But he does have ties to the Febbo family,” the prosecutor said with a shrug as the disheveled lawyer act faded away. “And it wouldn’t be surprising if they used some intimidation tactics on the witnesses.”

  “That is a very serious allegation,” the judge said. “Do you have proof of that?”

  “Of course, he doesn’t,” I said. “These allegations are completely unfounded.”

  “No, your honor,” the young lawyer said with a shake of his head. “Which is why we unfortunately have to drop the charges. The young man’s friends have done a very good job at covering their tracks.”

  “There’s no need to object, Mr. Morgan,” the magistrate said as he held up his hand. “The case is dismissed. Young man, you’ve dodged a bullet. Might I suggest that you reevaluate who you spend time with.”

  I bit back my retort as I watched the bailiff come over to uncuff my client. I had won this round since the Queens DA had apparently given up, and I would take it. But I didn’t believe for a moment that the DA was really done with my client or the Febbos.

  “When do I get my clothes back?” my client asked.

  “We’ll go get them from booking,” I said.

  I would have to look into the witness tampering allegation later, but for the moment, all I wanted to do was get out to Riverhead so I could find out what was on that laptop. I followed the teen over to booking and helped him reclaim his belongings, and once he was safely back with his parents on the steps of the courthouse, I headed back toward my car with my armed shadow right behind me.

  I’d barely made it down the stairs before my phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket while I waved goodbye to the teen, glanced down at the caller ID, and then frowned when I saw that it was the Staten Island Police Department. I showed it to Hank, took a deep breath, and then hit the answer button.

  “This is Hunter Morgan,” I said in my lawyer voice.

  �
��Mr. Morgan, it’s Serafina,” the young woman on the other end said. “I got picked up again on some bullshit charge. Do you think you can come help me? I really don’t want to wear orange again. It looks terrible on me.”

  “I’ll be right there,” I said. “And don’t talk to anyone.”

  “Got it,” Serafina said before the line went dead.

  “Dammit,” I muttered while I dialed Anthony’s number.

  “That was fast,” my employer said in an amused tone when he answered.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Ordman didn’t even show up. He sent some ADA lackey that dropped the charges. But Serafina just called. She’s been picked up again so it’s going to be a little while longer before I can get out there.”

  “Did she say what it was for?” the mobster asked.

  I could almost see his enraged expression as I heard him start to pace around his father’s office.

  “No,” I said. “But she knows not to talk to anyone. I’ll update you as soon as I find anything out.”

  “Good,” Anthony said. “I’ll tell mom you might be late to dinner.”

  I sighed as I hung up the phone and stuffed it back into my pocket. I was hungry, and Gulia Febbo made some of the best food that I’d ever had, but that would just have to wait until I could find out what the hell the cops had picked Serafina up for this time. I was sure she was right and that it was bullshit, just like all of the other cases lately had been, but this was the second time that they’d gone after her.

  “To Staten Island, then?” Hank asked.

  “Yep, to Staten Island,” I huffed.

  The drive over was fairly quick by New York standards, and there was a legal parking spot right out front for once. Hank had to drive around the block to find one, but he texted me to let me know that he wasn’t far away. He wouldn’t follow me into the police station, but he’d be nearby just in case someone tried something when I came out.

  “Can I help you?” the desk sergeant asked when I walked inside.

  “Yes, I’m here for Serafina Davide,” I said with a warm smile at the middle-aged woman.