Mob Lawyer 4: A Legal Thriller Read online

  We’d already seen how Rossi had been treated in prison, so the Serbian mob clearly had a long reach, and it wasn’t too hard to imagine them going after Anthony for taking out Vlado Galic, especially since we weren’t exactly sure what his role was yet.

  So, there had to be another plan in place to get Vlado’s laptop, and I needed Anthony to bring me into the loop.

  Or at least give me something that promised he wouldn’t be on trial for murder soon. Either option would ease my mind.

  For now, I had another case to worry about, namely Gervasio Rossi.

  I sighed as I climbed out of the steaming hot shower and toweled off. I had a few hours to work before his preliminary hearing this afternoon, so I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before I headed downstairs and kicked on the coffee pot. Once I had the steaming mug of caffeine in my hand, I headed into my office.

  As I powered on my laptop, I browsed the detailed calendar Liz had filled out with the upcoming hearings for my other cases. She’d managed to space them out a little better than they had been, so I wasn’t driving back and forth across the city multiple times in one day, and I’d have time to do my own paperwork.

  I swore that woman was a godsend, though I also got the feeling she didn’t like being my paralegal.

  I chuckled to myself as I typed out a few different motions for Rossi’s preliminary hearing and prepped them for court. I turned on my Spotify, and my office was filled with the sounds of the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, my musical guilty pleasure. The haunting strings calmed my racing mind, and before I knew it, it was time to get ready for court.

  In a matter of minutes, I walked out to my car in a charcoal-gray suit with my briefcase in hand. I was ready for whatever DA Adams threw at me in court, and I knew his case against Rossi wouldn’t hold up. With any luck, I’d get Judge Goldberg to toss it out today. All I had to do was point out the lack of a complaining witness and evidence, and we’d be done by dinner time.

  I drove to the Manhattan courthouse, parked, and whistled as I strolled to the front door. A wave of apprehension washed over me when I reached the door to the assigned courtroom, and no one stood nearby. I scoured the halls to find Rossi, but he was nowhere to be seen. I’d told him the date and time more than once since I’d dropped him off at home, and I pursed my lips as I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text.

  Court in twenty minutes. Where are you?

  My message sat unread and unanswered, even though I stared at the screen with what felt like a permanent frown. I paced the hall in front of the courtroom doors and ignored Adams as he walked past me with a smirk on his arrogant face.

  A creeping feeling slid down my spine as he walked into court without me, and I decided to call Anthony before the hearing began. He seemed to always know what was going on with his employees, so maybe there was something I didn’t know about yet.

  Five minutes.

  “I thought cell phones weren’t allowed in court,” Anthony said in a teasing voice.

  “Have you talked to Rossi?” I had to cut to the chase.

  “Not in a couple days,” my client answered more seriously. “Why? He’s not there?”

  “No, and I reminded him yesterday, but he didn’t answer me then, either,” I said and furrowed my brow. “He can’t miss this hearing, Anthony. It looks bad, and Adams will use it against him. He needs to be here.”

  “I’ll have my guys start looking for him,” Anthony grunted. “We’ll find him. He wouldn’t miss it on purpose. I can promise you that much. He hasn’t kept his nose clean this long by being stupid.”

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Okay, keep me posted, and I’ll let you know what the judge says.”

  We hung up with a minute to spare, and I walked into the courtroom as the bailiff called for us to rise. I scurried past a handful of reporters and other members of the gallery to the defense table, and Judge Goldberg entered the room and sat at the bench. I saw Adams out of the corner of my eye wearing a shit-eating grin as he glanced over at me alone at my table.

  “Please, be seated,” he said. “I see we have New York versus Rossi on the docket, but I don’t see Mr. Rossi. Mr. Morgan, what’s going on here? Does your client know he should be present for a preliminary hearing?”

  “Your Honor, forgive me, but no one has been able to get a hold of him in a couple days,” I replied carefully. “It’s not like him--”

  “It’s not like a criminal to miss a hearing?” Adams sneered. “That’s rich.”

  “Alleged criminal,” I corrected him before I returned my attention to Goldberg. “He’s normally very diligent, and given his personality, as well as the issues he experienced while in custody, I have reason to fear for his safety.”

  “Or your little habeas corpus nonsense gave him the perfect opportunity to escape justice,” the DA retorted. “Maybe I should look at charges for you, too.”

  “Enough!” Goldberg bellowed. “Mr. Morgan, I gave your client some leniency due to his lack of criminal record and the disturbing events that occurred at Rikers, but missing a preliminary hearing while out on PR is a serious issue.”

  “And we both greatly appreciate you looking out for him,” I insisted. “I agree this hearing is incredibly important, and my client feels the same way. His absence should be considered alarming because of the safety issues he’s already experienced, rather than the prosecution’s unfounded belief that he’s avoiding a perfectly good opportunity to clear his name.”

  “Your Honor, I believe the defendant’s absence is actually a violation of the provision you put in place,” Adams countered. “He should be present at all hearings, so the court can verify his ankle monitor is in good working order. As such, a violation constitutes a warrant for his arrest.”

  “I know the law, Mr. Adams,” Goldberg seethed. “I don’t need any additional education on it today. I do, however, need an explanation from the defense before I make my decision.”

  “Your Honor, I--” I stopped when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, and before the judge could scold me, I pulled it out and showed him Rossi’s name on the screen. “May I take the call?”

  “Approach,” Goldberg commanded with a nod.

  I answered Rossi’s call and walked toward the judge’s bench.

  “Mr. Morgan, I’m so sorry,” Rossi said between gasping breaths. “I-I know I’m missing court, but-- shit!”

  “Rossi, tell me what’s going on,” I pressed. “Are you alright?”

  “I am now that I’m out of there,” he replied, and I could hear the sounds of city traffic in the background. “Some culos were holding me hostage.”

  “Hostage?” I repeated with wide eyes. “Who?”

  “No idea,” Rossi grumbled. “As soon as I got an opportunity to run, I bailed. I’m getting in a taxi now. Hey, how far to Manhattan?”

  There was a low response in the background before Rossi said he could make it to the courthouse in twenty minutes. We hung up, and I took a deep breath before I relayed the conversation to Judge Goldberg. He sat in stunned silence, while Adams fumed next to me.

  “So, Your Honor, I’d like to request a brief recess to give my client a chance to get here,” I finished. “He’s already in a taxi and headed this way.”

  “What a load of--” Adams started.

  “That’s enough, Counselor,” Goldberg cut him off. “While I’m not entirely convinced of Mr. Rossi’s story, I feel it would be unjust to deny him the chance to explain what’s happened. I will grant a thirty-minute recess for the defendant to appear. If he has not arrived in that time, I will issue a warrant and move onto the next case on my docket. I will not grant Mr. Rossi any special privileges, and you will find I become less patient the further we get from our scheduled time.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” I said with a nod. “Don’t worry, he’ll be here.”

  “I’m sure he will,” Adams muttered as we walked back to our respective tables.

  I ignored the DA’s snide remark an
d decided to call Anthony during the recess to let him know what had happened. As I made my way through the gallery, Adams stormed past me with his own cell phone to his ear.

  We both walked into the hallway, though Adams steered clear of me and hovered near the wall while I started to dial Anthony. Then I decided the DA’s conversation might be worth hearing and pretended to make the call, but my ears were trained on Adams.

  He spoke in hushed tones, but the marble walls echoed even the slightest whisper, so I could make out most of his end of the call.

  “You idiot!” Adams hissed. “Do you know how stupid I just looked? … Well, yeah, I know… You have no clue what you just… Don’t even-- yeah, okay, but I need to be in the loop… Always, no exceptions!”

  The DA continued his angry call for a few more minutes before he hung up and began to furiously type on the screen. I wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop on a text message, so I called Anthony for real this time.

  “Did you find him?” my client asked. “No one else has spoken to him since Monday night. I don’t know where he would go. He knows he has to be at court.”

  “Well, he called me,” I replied. “He said someone was holding him hostage, but he escaped. He’s on his way to the courthouse now.”

  “Madre de Dio!” Anthony cursed. “Did he say who it was?”

  “He didn’t know,” I answered as I turned away from the DA and walked around the corner, so he couldn’t return the eavesdropping favor. “I get the feeling Adams knows who it was, though.”

  “That asshole DA?” The younger Febbo sounded surprised. “Why?”

  “He came out to the hallway as soon as the judge ordered the recess and called someone,” I explained. “He sounded pissed and kept talking about how he should have been in the loop because he looked stupid just now. I think he’s talking about how he looked arguing that Rossi was trying to avoid justice, only to have me get the phone call right in front of the judge about how he was escaping a kidnapping. It pretty much blew his whole argument out of the water.”

  “That would make him look pretty stupid,” Anthony agreed. “He’s the one Hank had to scare off, too, right?”

  “Same guy,” I confirmed. “He’s like a snake in the grass. I never know if he’s going to slither past me, or if I’m going to step on his tail and get his venom.”

  “Well, let’s get Rossi out of this situation, and then we’ll deal some venom of our own.” Anthony’s voice was dripping with rage, and I could easily imagine the look on his face.

  It was one that had scared me more than once and reminded me that Anthony was a Mafia boss.

  “I’ll work on my part of that,” I said as I peeked around the corner.

  Adams appeared to have finished his text, and he stared at me as though he was waiting for me to finish my call.

  “Call me when it’s done,” Anthony ordered before he hung up.

  I slipped my phone back into my jacket pocket as I came around the corner to return to the hallway. Adams kept his eyes on me, so I walked to him and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Still feel like my client is escaping justice?” I smirked.

  “As Goldberg said, he still has to convince us of what happened,” Adams retorted. “And good luck convincing a judge your mobster client got kidnapped. He beats people up for a living, so the idea that someone would kidnap him is just ridiculous.”

  “Is it?” I asked and cocked my head to the side. “Or is it ridiculous to try to keep him in Rikers when you have no proof of criminal activity?”

  “I know he’s a criminal,” the DA scoffed. “And criminals will try just about anything to get out of paying for their crimes. I’ve seen it time and time again.”

  “Are you implying my client faked his own kidnapping?” I asked and clenched my jaw to keep my cool.

  “I’m saying no one will fall for this stunt,” he muttered. “Goldberg gave you the habeas corpus, but you won’t get anything like it again.”

  “And why’s that?” I pressed. “Does your boss have something else up his sleeve?”

  “I’m an elected official,” Adams said and jutted out his chin. “And I’m not afraid of the mob. I work for the people, so if they want Rossi in jail, that’s where I’ll put him.”

  “You mean, if your real bosses want him in jail,” I said with a smirk. “You’ve tried that already, remember? It didn’t go so well.”

  “I don’t know what you’re getting at, kid, but I don’t like it,” he growled. “I think I’ll just go let Judge Goldberg know you’re delusional, and maybe he’ll finally see through these stunts of yours.”

  “Are you one to really talk to me about stunts?” I chuckled.

  Adams opened his mouth to argue again, but his mouth stayed open as his eyes drifted past me.

  I turned around to see Rossi jog down the hall toward us, and his appearance certainly explained the DA’s reaction.

  My client’s clothes were covered in spatters of blood and torn to shreds in some places, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days. His wrists were clearly bruised, as though he’d been tied to something, and he smelled like rotten food and a few other unmentionables. His gaunt face featured dark-purple circles under his eyes, and a couple days’ worth of stubble covered his chin and cheeks.

  “Mr. Morgan, am I too late?” Rossi asked as he stopped and doubled over to take a breath.

  “No, we have about five minutes left on the recess Goldberg ordered,” I answered while I checked my watch. “Come on, we’ll go in now.”

  I shot Adams a seething glare over my shoulder as I ushered Rossi into the courtroom. A few gasps echoed around the room while we walked to the defense table, and Judge Goldberg looked up from his papers in shock. The reporters in the gallery began to furiously scribble on their notepads as I presented my disheveled client to the bench.

  “Counselors, in my chambers!” he ordered.

  “Is that bad?” Rossi whispered.

  “Not sure yet,” I muttered and redirected him to the judge’s chambers. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  A few minutes later, Rossi, Adams, and I stood in front of Goldberg’s desk as he clenched his jaw and looked my client up and down.

  “Mr. Rossi, you appear to have experienced quite an ordeal,” he finally commented in a soft voice. “Are you alright?”

  “I’ve had better days, Your Honor,” Rossi admitted with a grim smile. “I’ll be okay. Thank you. And, uh, sorry I didn’t have time to grab my suit.”

  “That’s quite alright,” Goldberg chuckled. “There are worse things. Now, I don’t typically take a role in investigations, but I’d like to know if you have any information that would link your kidnapping with the case we’re working on today.”

  “I don’t, Your Honor.” My client shook his head and looked down at his feet. “I’m not sure who keeps trying to hurt me.”

  Ah, brilliant. No wonder Rossi had kept himself out of trouble for so long. He knew exactly which part to play, and today, he was the victim of a violent crime who had managed to escape certain death from an unknown assailant. I couldn’t have come up with a better response.

  “I’m sure it couldn’t be any of the dozens of victims you’ve created during your time working for the Febbo family,” Adams snorted.

  “If you have some ideas as to the identity of the kidnappers, I’m sure you could share them with the police,” I pointed out as I narrowed my eyes on the DA. “I assume you’ll be investigating my client’s kidnapping?”

  “I’m sure the NYPD will be happy to look into it.” The DA rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. “The DA doesn’t conduct investigations.”

  “Everyone should be investigating this incident,” Goldberg cut in. “It is obvious to me a crime has taken place, and Mr. Rossi was a victim for the third time this week. I think it would behoove you to work closely with the police to solve this issue, Mr. Adams.”

  “I’ll talk to Chief Flores,” Adams grumbled.r />
  “Good idea,” the judge agreed with a nod. “He can assign a task force to work jointly with your office since you appear to have knowledge that no one else does.”

  “Innocent until proven guilty, as they say.” I smirked at the DA, whose jaw tightened even further. “And now the accused has become the victim.”

  “Indeed.” Goldberg furrowed his brow. “In fact, I would be inclined to suggest your office talk to the DOC to get Mr. Rossi’s GPS history for the past few days from his ankle monitor. That would give you a location as to where the kidnappers held him hostage. Perhaps that information will lead you to the perpetrators.”

  “What a great idea, Your Honor,” I said without missing a beat.

  “I don’t need a cheerleading section any more than I needed that educational lesson earlier, Mr. Morgan,” Goldberg chided. “I’m going to order a continuance on Mr. Rossi’s current case. He needs to be taken to the hospital for evidence processing, and then he can clean up for the next court date. I’ll have Shelby assign you a date.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Rossi replied earnestly. “I’d never disrespect you or your courtroom on purpose, so I apologize for the situation today.”

  “Mr. Rossi, I can see the rope burns on your wrists from here,” the judge said in a soft tone. “I don’t know what you experienced, but I assure you, the NYPD will investigate the matter thoroughly. Justice will be served.”

  I wasn’t exactly convinced about the Manhattan detectives doing their due diligence for Rossi, but I was satisfied with the way Goldberg handled everything so far.

  He didn’t seem to have a penchant for being tough on Rossi just because of his reputation, which was great for obvious reasons and even greater for the way it pissed off Adams. Even now, the DA steamed next to me, though he’d gotten smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” I said with a smile. “I’ll get Mr. Rossi to the hospital right away.”