Influence Read online

  “I wasn’t thinking. I was just trying to have a good time with my boys.”

  “There’s a lot of places an aspiring lawyer could have had a good time, but a Bloods hangout shouldn’t be one of them.”

  “I know it looks bad, but Tony’s brothers aren’t as bad as you may think. They stay on us about being legit,” he explained.

  “I’m not sure how much faith I have in that, but at least things are finally starting to add up,” I said.

  “Perk, you can’t say shit about this to Ma and Dad,” he pleaded. “They’ll kill me. And Simone . . . I don’t even wanna think about what she’ll do.”

  “I hear you, but I got a job to do. Not only that, but you’re like a little brother to me. I know those are your boys, but my concern is keeping your ass out of jail, not them.” I really did feel for him. “Look, I can’t promise I won’t tell your pops, so I suggest you tell him yourself.” I sighed, shaking my head in disappointment. I guess I’d given him too much credit before. He was much dumber than I thought. “As far as Simone and your mom are concerned, I work for your father, and this is covered by attorney /client privilege. Man, you shoulda been told me this.”

  “I know. I fucked up.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. Did either of his brothers have access to your car?”

  “Well, yeah. They were . . . Fuck! Perk, they were sitting in my car the whole time we were in the club. You don’t think—”

  “I don’t know,” I interrupted, “but I’m gonna find out.”

  I turned around and saw Simone standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a frown on her face. I didn’t think she’d heard anything we had said, but judging by the look on her face, this wasn’t going to be a good night for Langston. Then again, it hadn’t been a good week for him.

  “I’ll holla at you later. Right now, you better get in there and talk to your girl. Tell Mike I’m in the truck.”

  Desiree

  31

  “You sure you don’t want me to handle this?” Lamont asked for the twentieth time. I wished he would stop badgering me.

  “I got it,” I replied, placing my briefcase on the side of the table for the defense.

  “Okay, but this isn’t one of those family court passion projects you love so much. This is the real deal. How we go forward from here may determine the case,” he stated.

  I ignored his arrogance as I sat down and glanced at the same white ADA who’d handled Langston’s arraignment. For some reason, I’d expected the black guy who tried to act so big and bad at the precinct to be sitting on the other side, but he was nowhere to be found—although I was sure that at some point they’d bring in someone black to sit in one of those chairs. This was too high profile a case, and when it came to my father, every case eventually became related to race.

  Speaking of my father, I turned to Lamont and asked, “Where’s Daddy?”

  “Where do you think? He’s outside in front of the cameras,” Lamont replied, then changed his tone and grunted, “What the fuck is wrong with that boy?”

  The word “Who?” barely escaped my lips before I saw Langston walk into the courtroom and take a seat behind me.

  “Will you please deal with him?” Lamont asked as Kwesi’s lawyer approached and shook his hand. I had met with Kwesi’s lawyer after Lamont’s meeting with him, and we came up with a damn good motion. I was fairly certain that we would be able to get the bail reduced for the boys, especially since we weren’t appearing in front of the same judge.

  I turned around in my chair and said between clenched teeth, “What are you doing here? Didn’t we tell you to stay home?”

  “I came to make sure everything was straight with my boys,” Langston answered.

  “You need to leave. We’ve got this under control. This courthouse is the last place you need to be seen. Didn’t Daddy tell you not to go out in public unless it was important?” I stared at my younger brother, dressed in khakis, button-down shirt, and his fraternity tie.

  “This is important, Des.” Langston glared at me.

  “Go home.” Lamont finally turned around and joined the conversation.

  “No.” He folded his arms defiantly.

  Lamont looked like he wanted to punch him. I put my hands on Lamont’s shoulders and turned him around.

  “It’s a simple bail reduction hearing, Langston. This isn’t a trial. You don’t need to be here,” I pleaded.

  “Yes, I do.”

  The courtroom door opened, and Tony’s mom entered, along with Kwesi’s parents.

  “Hey, Ms. Rita.” Langston hugged Tony’s mother, then spoke to Kwesi’s parents. There was no sign of Krush’s family. “How you doing, Mr. and Mrs. Adomako?”

  “Langston.” Mr. Adomako nodded; then he and his wife took seats. Talk about throwing shade. Could he have been any more obvious that he blamed this whole thing on Langston?

  The side door of the courtroom opened, and Tony, Krush, and finally Kwesi were brought in. Their hands were cuffed, and all three were wearing prison jumpsuits. I had to admit even I was taken aback by their appearance, and poor Langston looked horrified. They’d only been in Rikers a couple of days, but it was clearly taking a toll on them. I prayed that I would be able to get their bail reduced so they could all go home.

  “My poor baby,” Kwesi’s mother gasped and put her hands over her mouth. Her husband put his arm around her to comfort her.

  “I am okay, Mother.” Kwesi nodded toward her.

  “Head up, son,” Tony’s mother said aloud. He glanced back, and they gave one another a knowing look.

  The guys took their seats beside me at the defense table. Langston leaned forward and told them, “Everything’s gonna be cool.” None of his friends responded. Instead, they focused their attention on the judge, who had just entered the courtroom.

  “Sit back and be quiet, Langston,” Lamont snapped at him. Then he turned to Krush and Tony and said, “Just remember what I told y’all when we met earlier, guys. This shouldn’t take too long.”

  “All rise!” The bailiff announced the entrance of the judge, and we stood. I mentally went over everything I had prepared to say.

  “Good. Dad’s here,” Langston whispered.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw that my father had slipped into the courtroom, in spite of my suggestion that he not be there. The last thing I needed was his appearance causing a distraction, which it was. It was bad enough that Langston had shown up.

  “Your Honor, Anthony Baker, Kwesi Adomako, and Kirby Wright versus the State of New York,” the clerk read after we were seated.

  “Why are we here, counselors?” Judge Rodrigues asked, peering over his glasses at the defense table. Judge Rodrigues was a Latin man in his late fifties. Carla had checked him out and said he was about as fair a judge as we were going to get in racist Staten Island.

  “Your Honor, we believe the bail originally set by the court was excessive. We are requesting a bail reduction for all three of our clients from one million dollars to one hundred thousand.”

  “Mr. Wilkins, does the State have any objection to this reduction?”

  ADA Wilkins stood up and said, “Your Honor, we have serious objections. As I stated at the defendants’ arraignment, this is a serious drug trafficking crime and warrants the bail amount that has been set.”

  “This excessive bail is clearly prejudicial, and a violation of my clients’ Eighth Amendment rights. They are all upstanding college students who have no criminal past,” I countered.

  “These so-called college students had two kilos of pure heroin in their car. Anthony Baker has ties to the Bloods street gang. Kwesi Adomako is a Ghanaian national who poses a major flight risk, and Kirby Wright was found in possession of felony marijuana during the traffic stop.”

  “Your Honor, these young men are scholars who have been serving their school and the community, and they’re well respected by their professors and peers.” I added, “I have letters here to attest to their
character from several members of the academic staff of Howard University, including the Provost.”

  I passed the letters that had been sent to me, per my request, from teachers and classmates of all three. I had been thoroughly impressed while reading them, and I was sure it would be a positive reflection for the judge to consider. The bailiff took the papers from me and passed them over the bench.

  The judge began flipping through them. Tony and Krush sat up straight in their chairs, trying to look as respectful as possible.

  ADA Wilkins started to speak. “Your Honor, as we previously pointed out, Anthony Baker is a resident of Marcy Projects, and—”

  “Your Honor!” Lamont stood up to object before I could even get the words out. “What does this young man’s place of residence have to do with anything? That’s assumptive and racist.” I was glad he’d jumped in, because I wouldn’t have used such professional language. I couldn’t believe opposing counsel had the audacity to even say something of that nature, and part of me wanted to cuss his ass out.

  “If I may be allowed to finish.” Wilkins glared at us.

  “You’re on the verge of crossing a line, sir. I would choose my words carefully, counselor,” the judge warned.

  “Certainly, Your Honor. I was going to say that during a search of his home, a nine-millimeter handgun was found at his residence.”

  I was surprised that Tony didn’t bark out a protest, but he seemed subdued.

  Wilkins continued, “We’ve also found that Mr. Wright has a previous conviction for the sale of a controlled substance within a school.”

  Unlike Tony, Krush didn’t hold back. “What does that have to do with anything? I was fifteen years old. You can’t use that against me, I was a minor,” he yelled. “It was just a little weed.”

  “Ms. Hudson, please control your client.” The warning from the judge was now directed at me.

  I looked over at Krush and frowned. He beckoned for me, and I leaned forward to hear what he had to say.

  “That was supposed to be taken off my record and sealed when I became eighteen,” he whispered. “They can’t do this.”

  I directed my attention back to the bench. “Your Honor, my client has never been arrested for drugs as an adult, and furthermore, these charges the DA’s office is speaking about have been sealed. We are talking about young men who are weeks away from graduation and have a sincere desire to get back to school to complete their degrees. These aren’t some rogue gang members aiming to become drug lords as the DA is attempting to make them out to be.”

  “We are just making them out to be exactly what they are: four men driving in a car with two kilos of heroin,” the ADA said flatly. “Can you imagine if every college student did that? We need to send a message, Your Honor, and make sure they don’t.”

  Lamont nudged me, but before I could speak, the judge struck the gavel down. “I think I’ve heard enough.”

  I was breathing so hard that I could see my chest rising and falling and felt sweat forming under my arms.

  “Gentlemen, please stand,” the judge instructed Tony, Kwesi, and Krush, and they rose, looking nervous. “I understand your academic reputations and sincerity in your request; however, you’ve put yourselves and me in a difficult position here. I am going to reduce your bail, but nowhere near what your attorneys have asked. Bail is set at five hundred thousand dollars cash or bond. The next time I see you gentlemen will be at your arraignment.”

  The sound of the judge’s gavel echoed through the courtroom, and I suddenly felt faint. The hearing had not gone at all like I’d anticipated. I glanced over at my father, who stood up and walked out. I had messed up, and although I did everything I could have possibly done, I had failed.

  “What the fuck just happened?” Tony asked.

  “We just got fucked,” Krush answered. “We ain’t getting out. Five hundred thousand might as well be a million. Thanks for nothing.”

  Two guards came over to escort them back to confinement.

  “Wait, this is crazy,” Langston said. “Des, you’ve gotta do something.”

  “There’s nothing I can do right now,” I told him as his friends were being led away.

  “I need to go and talk to the parents,” I said. “I’ll be back.”

  I was headed to the back of the courtroom, searching for Tony’s mom, when I stopped in the middle of the aisle. I blinked for a couple of seconds, confused by the woman standing near the back door. I looked through the crowd of people exiting through the doors as I began moving forward, searching for the face again, but she was gone. Maybe I was mistaken, but I could’ve sworn the woman I saw was Jerri.

  Michael

  32

  “Are you saying the judge didn’t reduce the bail because I’m a woman?”

  Desiree was yelling at her brother, but it was pretty obvious that her anger was not really directed at Lamont, but more about the result of the bail reduction hearing they’d just returned from. Bradley had stormed in about fifteen minutes before them, heading directly for his office and slamming the door.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just pointing out that had you been a little more aggressive with your retort, then maybe things would’ve gone differently,” Lamont replied.

  “What makes you think I wasn’t aggressive?” Desiree asked. “I did everything right. I didn’t know the police found a gun in one client’s home and the other was arrested selling dope in high school, and neither did you. So, don’t come at me with your high and mighty shit, ’cause I don’t wanna hear it.” She looked like she was on the verge of tears. Say whatever she would, Desiree was obviously devasted that she didn’t get those boys’ bail reduced even more. “How’s that for aggression?”

  “There’s a difference between being aggressive and being emotional. Right now, you’re emotional.” Lamont looked over at me and said, “Tell her, Mike.”

  I threw my hands up defensively. “Hey, don’t bring me into this. I’ve got my hands full trying to figure out the skinny on these cops.”

  Perk laughed. “Good answer.”

  Lamont was about to say something when the conference room door opened and Bradley walked in, followed by his ex-wife. Lamont moved one seat over, and Bradley took his seat at the head of the table. Jacqueline sat in the other seat next to him. They both wore slate gray pantsuits and crisp white shirts. If the mood in the office weren’t so tense, I would’ve asked if they had planned to dress alike.

  “Well, that was a real shit show we put on today,” Bradley stated definitively. He didn’t look at anyone in particular, but I could see Desiree’s eyes start to fill up with tears.

  “Daddy, I’m sorr—” Desiree tried to apologize, but Bradley raised his hand to silence her.

  “When I’m looking for a sacrificial lamb, Desiree, I know where to find you. But this isn’t about one sheep; it’s about the entire goddamn flock.” He slammed his hand down on the table. “How the fuck did the police issue a search warrant on Tony’s home and find a gun and we didn’t know about it, Lamont?”

  Lamont looked like he was going to shit a pickle. “When I spoke to Tony’s mother, she never mentioned it.”

  “Did you ask her if she had any contact with law enforcement, or were you too busy looking at her ass?” I think everyone cracked a smile on that one, but Perk actually laughed out loud.

  “What the fuck are you laughing at, Mr. Investigator?” Bradley turned his attention to Perk, who now looked as uncomfortable as Lamont. “Aren’t you the one who did the background on Krush? How the hell did we not know he was caught selling drugs to ninth graders?”

  Did Bradley really expect Perk to find out about a sealed juvenile document? I wondered, but I soon received my answer via Perk himself.

  “Because I fucked up, Bradley. It won’t happen again.”

  “It better not. I don’t wanna visit my son wearing an orange jumpsuit at Sing-Sing,” Bradley said. Then it was my turn. “Michael, what do we have on
the cops that made the arrest?”

  I opened the folder in front of me and glanced through it for appearances. I already knew every word in it. Hell, I had even practiced what I was going to say. “The initial arresting officer, Thomas Blake, is clean as a whistle. Ten years with the Army’s military police, over ten years on the NYPD, and not one civilian complaint. I very much doubt that we’ll be able to pin any type of racial angle on him.”

  “Why not? He’s a white cop who arrested black college students. We’ve done more with less,” Lamont replied skeptically.

  “Considering he’s married to a black woman who he has three kids by, and he’s an award-winning coach for the PAL’s football team that’s predominantly black, I think maybe he gets a pass,” I said smugly. Lamont leaned back in his seat and let me continue.

  “There is, however, a Sergeant Lanier that we should really be focused on. He has several civilian complaints and has been investigated several times by Internal Affairs for improprieties unbecoming an officer. He’d probably be out of a job if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s a damn good K-9 officer and trainer,” I concluded, closing the folder in front of me.

  “That’s something we can definitely use. I’m sure that racist son of a bitch has a lot more dirt we can dig up,” Bradley said. He turned to Jacqueline and asked, “Were you able to take care of that little thing Lamont spoke to you about?”

  “Yes. I’ve got a friend who’s fast-tracking the Adomakos’ citizenship application as we speak,” she replied. “Regardless, you are going to need a speedy trial. These types of things have a way of coming back to bite you in the ass when you least expect them. I don’t care about myself, but the last thing we want is for the press to get wind of my involvement before Langston is cleared of these charges.”

  “They sure do,” Bradley replied. “But I’ve had my rabies shot. I suggest the rest of you do the same.”

  Jacqueline didn’t notice Carla slipping in to take a seat as she turned to Perk and asked, “Where are we with finding out where the hell those drugs came from?”