Hemlock Bay
Page 83
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“Shut up, you bitch.”
“Call me a bitch again and I’ll make you eat your tongue.” She gave him a sweet smile, with one dimple.
Simon said, “All right, that’s enough. Listen up, Morrie. We want you to tell us who hired you. It could save your life.”
Morrie started whistling “Old Man River.”
Lily laughed. “Come on, Morrie, spare us. You got a brain? Use it. Herman Monk is dead, shot three times in the back.”
“I don’t know no Herman Monk. Sounds like a geek. Don’t know him.”
That could be true. Simon said, “Monk was a loose end. He’s dead. You’re a loose end, too, Morrie. Just think about your lawyer for a moment. Who is he? Who sent him? Who’s paying his bill? Do you really think he’s going to try to get you off?”
“I hired him. He’s a real good friend, a drinking buddy. We watch the fights together down at Sam’s Sports Bar, you know, over on Cliff Street.”
Lily said, as she tapped her fingers on the Formica surface, split down the middle by bars, with Simon and Lily on one side, Morrie on the other, “He’s setting you up, Morrie. You too stupid to use your brain? You know he told the sheriff that he took your case pro bono?”
“I want a cigarette.”
“Don’t be a moron. You want to die, hacking up your lungs? He said he took you on for free, out of the goodness of his heart. I want you to just think about all this. What did your lawyer promise you?”
“He said I was getting out of here, today.”
“Yeah, we heard,” Simon said, and it was true, according to Lieutenant Dobbs. The judge had called and was prepared to set bail. “You know what’s going to happen then?”
“Yeah, I’m going to go get me a beer.”
“That’s possible,” Lily said. “I hope you really enjoy it, Morrie, because you’re going to be dead by morning. These people really hate loose ends.”
Morrie said, “Who did you say this Monk geek was?”
Lily said, “He was the curator of the museum where my grandmother’s paintings were displayed. He was part of the group who had four of the paintings copied, the originals replaced with the fakes. When it all came out, when it was obvious that things were unraveling, he was shot in the back. That’s why they wanted you to kill me. They were my paintings and here I am doing what they knew I’d do—stirring things up until I find out who stole my paintings. I wonder how long before they shoot you, Morrie.”
“I’m leaving town, first thing.”
“Good idea,” Simon said. “But I see two big problems for you. The first is that you’re still in jail. Your lawyer said he was going to get you out? Who’s going to pay the bail, Morrie, and that’s your second problem. Your pro bono lawyer? That’s possible, what with all the money from the people who hired you in the first place. So, let’s say you walk out of here, what are you going to do? Hide out in an alley and wait for them to kill you?”
Morrie believed him, Simon knew it in that moment. Simon waited a beat, then said, “Turns out I can solve both problems for you.”
“How?”
“Ms. Savich here will drop charges against you, we’ll get you out of here without your lawyer knowing about it. To sweeten the deal, I’ll give you five hundred bucks. That’ll get you far away from these creeps, give you a new start. In return you give me the name of who hired you.”
Morrie said, “Look, I’m going to sue her the minute I get out of here. Five hundred bucks? That’s jack shit.”
Simon’s gut was good. He knew he was going to get Morrie. Just one more nudge. He turned on the recorder in his jacket pocket. “You know, Morrie, Lieutenant Dobbs and the DA don’t really want me to cut any deal with you. I had to talk them into it. They want to take you to trial and throw your butt in jail for a long time. Since Lily hurt you pretty good, it’s more than your word against hers. You’d be dead meat, Morrie.”
It took only three more minutes of negotiation. Simon agreed to give Morrie Jones eight hundred dollars, Lily agreed to drop the charges, and Morrie agreed to give them a name.
“I want to see her sign papers and I want to see the money before I do anything.”
Lieutenant Dobbs and the DA weren’t pleased, but knew that Morrie was incidental compared to the person who’d hired him.
Lily, in the presence of Lieutenant Dobbs, an assistant DA, a detective, and two officers, signed that she was dropping the charges against one Morrie Jones, age twenty.
“Call me a bitch again and I’ll make you eat your tongue.” She gave him a sweet smile, with one dimple.
Simon said, “All right, that’s enough. Listen up, Morrie. We want you to tell us who hired you. It could save your life.”
Morrie started whistling “Old Man River.”
Lily laughed. “Come on, Morrie, spare us. You got a brain? Use it. Herman Monk is dead, shot three times in the back.”
“I don’t know no Herman Monk. Sounds like a geek. Don’t know him.”
That could be true. Simon said, “Monk was a loose end. He’s dead. You’re a loose end, too, Morrie. Just think about your lawyer for a moment. Who is he? Who sent him? Who’s paying his bill? Do you really think he’s going to try to get you off?”
“I hired him. He’s a real good friend, a drinking buddy. We watch the fights together down at Sam’s Sports Bar, you know, over on Cliff Street.”
Lily said, as she tapped her fingers on the Formica surface, split down the middle by bars, with Simon and Lily on one side, Morrie on the other, “He’s setting you up, Morrie. You too stupid to use your brain? You know he told the sheriff that he took your case pro bono?”
“I want a cigarette.”
“Don’t be a moron. You want to die, hacking up your lungs? He said he took you on for free, out of the goodness of his heart. I want you to just think about all this. What did your lawyer promise you?”
“He said I was getting out of here, today.”
“Yeah, we heard,” Simon said, and it was true, according to Lieutenant Dobbs. The judge had called and was prepared to set bail. “You know what’s going to happen then?”
“Yeah, I’m going to go get me a beer.”
“That’s possible,” Lily said. “I hope you really enjoy it, Morrie, because you’re going to be dead by morning. These people really hate loose ends.”
Morrie said, “Who did you say this Monk geek was?”
Lily said, “He was the curator of the museum where my grandmother’s paintings were displayed. He was part of the group who had four of the paintings copied, the originals replaced with the fakes. When it all came out, when it was obvious that things were unraveling, he was shot in the back. That’s why they wanted you to kill me. They were my paintings and here I am doing what they knew I’d do—stirring things up until I find out who stole my paintings. I wonder how long before they shoot you, Morrie.”
“I’m leaving town, first thing.”
“Good idea,” Simon said. “But I see two big problems for you. The first is that you’re still in jail. Your lawyer said he was going to get you out? Who’s going to pay the bail, Morrie, and that’s your second problem. Your pro bono lawyer? That’s possible, what with all the money from the people who hired you in the first place. So, let’s say you walk out of here, what are you going to do? Hide out in an alley and wait for them to kill you?”
Morrie believed him, Simon knew it in that moment. Simon waited a beat, then said, “Turns out I can solve both problems for you.”
“How?”
“Ms. Savich here will drop charges against you, we’ll get you out of here without your lawyer knowing about it. To sweeten the deal, I’ll give you five hundred bucks. That’ll get you far away from these creeps, give you a new start. In return you give me the name of who hired you.”
Morrie said, “Look, I’m going to sue her the minute I get out of here. Five hundred bucks? That’s jack shit.”
Simon’s gut was good. He knew he was going to get Morrie. Just one more nudge. He turned on the recorder in his jacket pocket. “You know, Morrie, Lieutenant Dobbs and the DA don’t really want me to cut any deal with you. I had to talk them into it. They want to take you to trial and throw your butt in jail for a long time. Since Lily hurt you pretty good, it’s more than your word against hers. You’d be dead meat, Morrie.”
It took only three more minutes of negotiation. Simon agreed to give Morrie Jones eight hundred dollars, Lily agreed to drop the charges, and Morrie agreed to give them a name.
“I want to see her sign papers and I want to see the money before I do anything.”
Lieutenant Dobbs and the DA weren’t pleased, but knew that Morrie was incidental compared to the person who’d hired him.
Lily, in the presence of Lieutenant Dobbs, an assistant DA, a detective, and two officers, signed that she was dropping the charges against one Morrie Jones, age twenty.
