Judgment (Game of Lords Book 3), page 20
“Yes, she is.”
~ ~ ~ ~
James sat against the headboard of his king-size bed in the luxurious penthouse overlooking downtown Manhattan. He was staring out at the night skyline, quietly thinking, periodically glancing down at the blonde haired woman resting her head on his lap. Her name was Tanya, and she was his favorite escort, the only one he ever confided in. He brushed her hair to the side so he could see her dark brown eyes.
She glanced up at him, smiling, and said, “You did it again, James. You beat the Feds.”
“Yes,” James said, glancing out at the Manhattan skyline. “I knew their case was weak from the start.”
“How do you always know these things?”
James ran his hand down her back and under the sheets, feeling the warmth of her backside. “It’s what I do, Tanya. It’s why I get paid the big bucks. It's how I can afford you.”
She said, “I’m crazy about you, James. You know that. Right?”
‘Yes, yes, I do. Stay the night tonight.”
“Yes, I will.”
Chapter 2
The next morning James felt the warm sun hitting his face. He glanced over at the time and then at the picture of his mother he kept on his dresser. He had vowed many times to put the picture away, mostly because it made him feel guilty.
James Boulton had been born the oldest of two children, both boys, in Brooklyn, New York. His father was an alcoholic who was brutal in disciplining his sons. As the oldest, James got the worst of it, being treated much harsher than his younger brother. There was no pleasing his father, and he grew up feeling certain his father did not want him or love him, but his mother loved him, and that was his small saving grace.
She did her best to intervene to stop the brutality, both emotional and physical. But on many occasions she, too, caught the back of her husband’s hand.
James' father was more than brutal. He was highly critical. This perhaps left the deepest emotional wounds. Many nights were spent cowering under the dining room table, watching his father’s feet tapping as he sat drinking and watching TV in the living room. It was James' favorite spot because he could just barely see the TV, but his father could not see him, and most of the time did not even know James was there.
There were some happy days, but the dark ones greatly overshadowed them. His father's mood, dictated by whether or not he was drinking, set the tone in every way, and the rest of the family had to go along and get by as best they could.
His father died of cirrhosis of the liver when James was fifteen years old. This gave James the desperate relief he needed, but the die had already been cast in many respects. Just like his father had exercised absolute power over him, James vowed in his heart to become a man with absolute power.
This quest for power led him to law school and ultimately to his career as a mob lawyer. James' mother warned him about his involvement with the mob. When she found out he was working for the notorious Massiano family, she frequently called James, begging him to stop working for them. James always told her it was difficult to extricate himself, but that he had thought of a way and was working on it.
It was, of course, a lie.
He would never let anything pull him away from the feeling that working for the powerful Massianos gave him.
He glanced up at the time again. It was 7:15 am, and he was already late for his day. He nudged Tanya. “Hey beautiful, it’s time to go.”
“James, do I have to?”
“Yes, I have a busy day.”
James got out of bed and jumped into the shower. When he came out, Tanya was standing by the bedside, stepping into her dress. He walked over and hugged her from behind. “Will I see you tonight?”
“That depends on you,” she said.
“Yes, I want to. Come at 9.”
“All right.”
James walked over to his dresser and pulled five $100 bills out of his wallet. He started to reach for a sixth, then stopped and put his wallet back down. He turned and handed it to her. “See you later tonight, beautiful.”
Chapter 3
The Manhattan traffic was at a stand-still as James sat in the back seat of his limousine reading over the newspaper. The phone rang.
“Hello?”
“James, it’s Ernest.”
“I was wondering when you were going to call.” Ernest was James’ publicist, and James hoped he was calling with good news.
“Are you reading the Times?”
“Yes, what else do I do every morning while sitting in this God-forsaken traffic?”
“Well, you better make sure you read it on Friday.”
“Really, why?”
“They're doing an article about you, and about the book.”
“No, kidding!”
“I’m not kidding. Your press conference yesterday put us in the win column with their editor.”
James had written a book detailing his cases, along with all the strategies he had used to get his clients off. He titled the book, “Prove It!” The Massianos were uneasy about it, but James had assured them it was part of his strategy to build an aura about himself which would help to win juries over.
James asked, “How are we doing with the sales?”
“We’re doing great, and we’re about to explode. They’ve got us at number twenty-eight right now, but they said the article would pull us way up, probably into the top ten.”
“Awesome!”
“Yes, and who knows? Maybe we will go all the way to the top.”
“All right, Ernest. That’s great news. I gotta go.”
“Prove it, James! Prove it!”
“Very funny. Go sell some books.”
James hung up the phone feeling a sense of satisfaction he had never known. There was something unique about this accomplishment. Perhaps it was one even his mother could be proud of.
Though his clients, and even most of his fellow lawyers, would never dream of writing such a book, especially while they were practicing, James knew better. He understood that to win in front of juries had a lot to do with charisma and reputation. James had charisma, and he also had a reputation. This book served as a monument to both, a monument for all to see.
He didn’t do it for them, though. He did it for himself. He needed to be reminded of his greatness; his well-being depended on it. He would never get away from the deep inferiority his father’s searing criticism had scarred him with. It was ever-present, like a guarded grizzly bear locked away in a cage, who could escape and ravage him if James let his guard down.
Chapter 4
At 8:45 am, James walked into his private law firm offices on the 7th floor of the luxurious Metzger Building on Prospect Avenue. He thrust open the wide glass doors, immediately barking out orders to his receptionist, “Debbie, get me some coffee and a few donuts.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Boulton.”
James walked further down the hall, getting updates from the junior lawyers and paralegals working under him. When he reached his office, he said to his secretary, “Teddi, get Bobby’s secretary on the phone. I want to talk to Bobby at 10:30 sharp.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t want to be disturbed until then.”
Teddi got up, picked up a copy of the New York Post, and extended it toward him. “You may want to see this first.”
James looked up, wide-eyed. “What is it?”
“Just an article about the dark side.”
James rolled his eyes and took the paper from her. He looked at the headline. “Another victory for the dark side, courtesy of James Boulton.”
He laughed and turned, reading down the page as he went into his office. He was a little nervous. The article about his book would be out tomorrow, and while he loved the limelight he began to fear too much of it would anger the Massianos. They were his only client. But he could not help but soak up the article.
“Dark Side! I like it. Darth Vader? James Vader? Darth James? James the Darth Lawyer! Yes, it all has a good ring to it.”
He plopped down and swiveled in his chair, reflecting on how it all began. The idea to join the dark side came to him one night during his second year of law school while he was watching The Godfather. He knew the crime activity in New York was much more sophisticated than in the movie. He instinctively knew they would pay better than anyone else.
James went to work as a junior lawyer for a known mob lawyer. He got his break when he was asked to sit in 3rd chair on a high profile case. James' work in uncovering dirt on the government witness turned the tide of the trial, and from that time on James quickly rose in the ranks. Five years later, his boss retired and James became the lead attorney for the family.
All this served to make James a very rich man, not just in money, but in knowledge: mob knowledge. He knew everything about his clients' guilt, and he knew where most of the bodies were buried.
The phone intercom rang, snapping James out of his reflection.
“James, Bobby is on the line.”
James glanced up at the time. It was only 9:30. “I thought I said I want to talk to him at 10:30?”
“He said he needs you now. Right now!”
James worried for a moment. Bobby did not usually talk in such a demanding tone. He picked up. “What’s up, Bobby?”
“I just got a call from one of my contacts down at the Feds. They’re coming to arrest me. That’s what’s up! Now, what the hell are you going to do about it, Mr. Hotshot?”
“For what?”
“For the murder of Larry Baxter.”
“Don’t say another word, Bobby. I’ll be right over. We’ll have you out on bail before the end of the day.”
Chapter 5
James had his limo driver meet him downstairs, and they left immediately for Bobby’s mansion across town. On the way, James felt nervous. Perhaps taunting the Feds pushed them too far this time. Larry Baxter was a prominent member of a rival mob family. The Massianos and the Baxters were embroiled in a turf war over the crack trade in New York. The Massiano Family had long controlled this trade, but the Baxters were making a push to break in, and they were making progress.
James knew that Bobby himself ordered the hit on Larry Baxter, the heir apparent to the Baxter family. He was brutally murdered, gunned down on a dark street outside a nightclub in Queens. Bobby didn’t pull the trigger, but he was there. He witnessed the murder. It had taken place over seven months ago, and both James and Bobby felt that all risk of his being caught had passed.
He arrived at the mansion, the FBI pulling up right behind him. James hustled in and made sure Bobby was treated with dignity as they cuffed him and threw him in the back of their black SUV. James followed them down to the Federal Courthouse where Bobby was to be held pending a bail hearing.
Within hours James and the opposing prosecutor were inside a Federal Judge’s chambers arguing whether or not Bobby would be released on bail.
“Your honor, Mr. Stephens portrays my client as a flight risk, but as you know, he has deep family and business ties to the community. Besides that, your honor, despite Mr. Stephens’ claims, the fact is we have nothing more than circumstantial evidence. Can we deny Mr. Massiano bail based on that?”
The judge nodded and raised his hand as Mr. Stephens tried to protest. “I’m sorry, he is right. Bail is set at 2,000,000. You may both leave.”
~ ~ ~ ~
The next few weeks were the most worrisome of James’ career. There was no doubt in his mind that this would be his toughest case to date. The evidence pointing to Bobby was indeed strong enough to convict him. But James had an idea.
He knew that Larry Baxter had prior dealings with a low-level drug dealer recently used by the Massianos. The dealer’s name was Richard Matte. Matte was on Bobby’s blacklist for nearly blowing a deal. James decided to use this to his advantage. He called up Bobby and drove over for a meeting.
As soon as James arrived back at Bobby’s home, they went into his study with a couple of his most trusted men. James first set the stage. “Bobby, we’ve got a tough case here. The evidence, though not yet convincing, points only one way.”
Bobby replied, “Look, James, this is why we pay you. Now, are you gonna do your job, or aren’t you?”
James stood up and put his hands behind his back, walking away from the group toward the window. “Yes, I’ll do my job, but this could go either way.” James already knew which way it would go. He was posturing.
Bobby fell for it. “I’ll tell you what. You just make damn sure I get off, and you can plan on a cool million being delivered to you.”
James did not flinch, staying at the window, looking out. He paused and said, “Give me a minute to think.”
The room grew silent for several minutes. When the silence grew uncomfortable, James asked, “What was the name of that low-life dealer who almost screwed up the drug deal back in April?”
“Matte,” said one of the men.
“Ah, yes, Matte, Richard Matte. He’s been working for the Baxter’s now, hasn’t he?”
Bobby replied, “Yes, and come to think of it, we should whack that SOB.”
None of this was news to James. He just needed to look brilliant.
James kept staring out the window, his back to them, and put his finger into the air, signaling for all to wait because he was thinking. Then he turned around. “We’re going to turn this on Larry Baxter.”
Bobby asked, “How the hell we gonna do that. He’s already dead!”
Everyone chuckled for a moment. But James kept nodding, an expression of serious contemplation on his face. “Yes, that’s it. We’ll turn it all on Larry Baxter. We will, of course, need to use Matte… to be the one who killed him.”
Bobby looked confused. “I don’t follow.”
“It’s easy. We will implicate Larry in a recent drug deal that we know Matte was involved in. We will manufacture proof that it was Matte who killed him over not getting paid. We got witnesses who owe us. And you get to whack Matte as a bonus, as soon as we finger him.”
There was silence in the room.
Bobby broke it. “I like it. And why not? Larry Baxter is dead. Who’s gonna defend him? His brothers?”
They all had a good laugh.
Bobby turned to his men. “All of you listen. Until James works out the details, this stays in this room. Everyone got it?”
They all agreed.
Chapter 6
Two weeks later, on the first day of the trial, James proudly led Bobby and his entourage up the courthouse steps. James smiled broadly for the cameras, completely confident of his plan. But he was under no illusions as to what this case meant. The stakes could not be any higher. Bobby was the boss. If he went down, James' career would go down too, but it could be much more serious than that. Bobby might smile at him while they were riding out victories in the courtroom. But losing would unleash the true character of his boss, who James knew was responsible for the deaths of no less than thirty people.
Despite the pressure, James was ready. The judge walked in, made some opening remarks, then asked James if he was ready with his opening statement. Dressed in his finest navy-blue suit and bright yellow tie, James rose slowly, then stepped from behind the table like Fred Astaire about to begin a dance.
He turned to the jury and lightly stepped toward them. “Your honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as you know from my best-selling book, ‘Prove It,’ the government has a duty to prove their case. But the government has a big problem today. They can’t prove their case, and what you might not know is that they already know this.”
He turned, holding his chin in his hand, letting them see his thoughtful pondering, then faced them squarely. His face was set, his smile partial, to help show how serious he was. His eyes were confident and piercing as he looked into the eyes of each juror before speaking his next words. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I will not only show Bobby Massiano to be innocent, but I will also provide compelling evidence that Larry Baxter’s own drug-dealing associate, Richard Matte, was the one who killed him.”
Immediately the entire courtroom and the prosecuting team were buzzing, with everyone asking who Richard Matte was. The prosecution rose, objecting loudly and adamantly, as the judge banged his gavel, calling for order.
At the back of the courtroom a man stepped outside and made a phone call. The mention of Matte’s name was the signal to make the call to the three men waiting outside Matte’s apartment. James had planned everything down to the last detail. Matte would be killed, and the evidence would be planted within the next ten minutes.
~ ~ ~ ~
James used his glib tongue to flip the Federal Prosecutor’s case completely on its head during the trial. He built his case not on defending Bobby, but on planting compelling seeds to his fabricated story that Larry Baxter got greedy, and his underling Matte got fed up. Witnesses were brought forth to corroborate little pieces of James’ story. The fact that neither Larry Baxter nor Richard Matte was alive to defend themselves gave James all the doubt he needed to plant in the jury’s mind. When the trial ended, it took the jury only three hours to acquit Bobby.
It was, without a doubt, a brilliant move and the latest gem in the long line of James’ victories.
~ ~ ~ ~
Getting Bobby off for the murder of Larry Baxter was a huge feather in James’ cap. He collected on the million dollars promised by Bobby. He also spent the week taking congratulatory phone calls and granting several interviews. All of it helped promote his book, which was now number five on the New York Times Bestseller List.
In bookstores throughout New York City, James’ book, with his picture prominently adorning the front cover, was on display everywhere.
A week after the trial, on a Tuesday night, James dialed his favorite escort, Tanya.
