“They’re stone fuckin’ crazy,” Paul concluded. “Think about it,” he turned to Judy Brown, “Colombians are the stupidest criminals in the world. What they can’t steal, they kill.”
Judy was so nervous she could barely sip her coffee without spilling it. Dino had never seen the unflappable Judy Brown upset before. This case was worming into everyone’s nerves.
Paul’s voice reverberated through the empty courtroom, “Son-of-a-bitches don’t know who they’re fuckin’ with!”
Actually the room was not completely empty, there were two deputies with metal detectors standing just inside the door. And two bored looking deputies were standing next to the jury box. Barnett was also there, huddled with the three defendants in the jury box. Hearing Paul’s latest remark, the counselor turned and glared at the prosecution table.
Judy spilled more coffee. Dino just smiled and waved at the mouthpiece. But Paul wasn’t about to miss an opportunity.
“Lemme let you boys in on a lil’ secret,” he called out, kicking his – “brand spankin’ new” – ostrich skin boots on top of the prosecution table. Barnett turned away but the defendants were still watching.
“Lemme tell you little something’ about America.” Paul’s voice rose, “We got some basic rules here. In America – you don’t fuck with the IRS. You don’t fuck with Santa Claus. And you don’t fuck with anyone with the last name of Luciano, Genovese or LaStanza. You got that?”
Barnett turned back and said, “That’ll be enough.”
“Wrong weasel-face!” Paul jumped up, reached into his briefcase and pulled out a large brown envelope and headed straight for the jury box.
“Now just a minute – ,” Barnett protested.
Paul ignored him, snarling at the defendants, “You boys think you’re mean? You boys think you’re tough? Take a look at this!” He pulled what looked like a picture from the envelope and stuck it under Angel’s chin. Dino couldn’t see clearly but wasn’t about to go over there. This was Paul’s show.
“See that!” Paul swung the picture in front of Billy Boy’s face. “That’s what happened to the last mother-fucker who fucked with LaStanza.”
Barnett got up and headed for the judge’s chambers.
Paul yelled after him, “What’re gonna do, tell the judge on me?”
Looking back at the defendants, who were all staring at the picture in his hand, Paul continued, “My pardner might be a half pint, but he shoots bad asses!”
Pulling away quickly, he strolled back to the table and tossed the photograph to Dino who recognized it immediately. It was a eight by ten glossy of the Twenty-two Killer, after Dino had blown the man’s brains all over Audubon Park. Dino passed the picture to Judy who tossed it back as if it was a hot potato.
Dino watched Barnett knock loudly on the door to the judge’s chambers.
“You can’t go in there,” said one of the bored deputies next to the jury box.
“What?”
“The judge don’t want nobody in there. Period.”
Barnett started to argue but the deputy ignored him.
“Sit down Barnett,” Paul kicked his boots back up on the table, “I won’t yell no more.”
“I’m not standing for this,” Barnett started for the courtroom door.
“Go ahead,” Paul added. “Leave. Then we can really fuck with your clients.”
Barnett wheeled and shouted, “I’m holding you responsible for this , Ms. Brown!”
“Aw, sit down and shut up.” Paul was doing all the talking for the prosecution at the moment.
Barnett was seething. His fists were clenched. His flat top was standing up straight. He was vibrating in anger. He gritted his teeth and growled, “I’m going to Internal Affairs on you, Mister smart aleck detective. You’ll regret calling me a weasel.”
The two homicide men laughed so hard Judy Brown almost fell off her chair. The image of a dope lawyer sauntering into Internal Affairs to complain that a detective called him a weasel was too much for LaStanza.
When he regained his composure, Dino returned the eight by ten to his partner, “You carry this around all the time?”
“Yep,” Paul tucked a wad of smokeless under his lower lip, “I’m proud of my lil’ pardner. Even though I’m pissed at you right now.”
“About what?”
“There’s a nasty rumor going ‘round the Bureau that I got my boot stuck in a goddamn door. People are laughin’ at me!”
•
The judge remained bunkered in his chambers until the bomb squad checked out the entire Criminal Courts Building. Someone with an Hispanic accent had called the judge at home early that morning and threatened to blow him up if he didn’t release the Nunez brothers. Judy Brown got a similar call to her unlisted number. LaStanza received no call – yet. Although – there was that white Cadillac.
When Judge Collins finally emerged from his chamber, circled by four more deputies, he was in a foul mood. Barnett started right in about the missing daughter and the judge cut him off at the knees.
“Counselor, I don’t know where she is either!”
“But your honor – ”
“Keep quiet and listen! Detective LaStanza is the prosecution’s case and he’s all you’re going to get. Understand?”
Barnett wasn’t satisfied. He had to have the last word, dictating objections and exceptions into the record until LaStanza was finally called back to the stand.
Barnett’s pointy teeth were bared when he asked his first question, “Where is Donna Diaz?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is Lieutenant Mason?”
“I don’t know.”
“You suppose they ran off together?”
“Objection,” Judy called out.
“Sustained.”
Barnett did not lose a beat, “Did you threaten Carlotta Ignacia?”
“No, sir.”
“You didn’t force her to give you a statement?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s not what she says.”
Dino did not respond. It wasn’t a question.
Barnett asked the same question ten more times in ten different ways. He was trying this best to rile LaStanza but was having no luck. Dino remained calm by fantasizing how it would feel to slap the dope lawyer around the court room. Paul, however, was in the perfect position to lash back.
While Barnett continued pummeling his partner, Paul eased over to the jury box and sat next to the defendants. Dino could see him mouthing “Fuck you” to each of them, one after the other.
About sixty seconds and six repetitive questions later, Barnett noticed Paul and immediately jumped, “Your honor. That man is harassing my clients.”
Judge Collins peered over and asked, “Who are you?”
“Detective Paul Snowood, your honor, New Orleans Homicide.”
“What are you doing over there?”
“I’ll tell you what he’s doing – ”
The judge sawed Barnett in two, “Shut up! I’m not talking to you!”
Dino was awed. Fear was an amazing thing. It could transform a gutless wonder into a – tyrant. The judge was still glaring at Barnett when Paul answered.
“I figured the court could use a little extra security.”
“Good,” the judge said, “you stay right there. and if Mr. Barnett has nothing further, the court’s prepared to rule on these – motions.”
Barnett paused a second before asking “I may speak now?”
The judge nodded.
“Then I’d like to continue my cross examination of this – witness,” venom dripped from the word “witness”.
Dino reminded himself to keep calm. Then he saw the door opening to the courtroom and forgot –
•
At first Lizette thought she was in the wrong courtroom, until she heard Dino’s voice echo. He was on the witness stand. Wearing the blue linen suit she’d given him for Christmas and the maroon tie, he looked sharp. Then she realized there were two large black officers standing in her way. Each had a crooked wand in his hand.
“These are metal detectors, Ma’am,” one of the officers said, “we have to run it over you.”
“Go ahead.” She could see Dino’s round eyes staring at her as the wand passed up her front and down her back. The second officer passed his wand over her purse before giving it back. Then it was Alex’s turn to have the wands move around him. He got a big kick out of it.
The room was empty, except for the people up front. Lizette led her brother up the aisle to the first row behind the prosecution table and sat. Dino’s eyes never left hers and she could see he was struggling to answer the lawyer with the flat top.
“What was that?” the lawyer shrieked.
“Um – ” Dino stumbled.
“It’s a simple question,” the lawyer yelled, “how did you get into Carlotta Ignacio’s room?”
Dino looked away from Lizette, back at the lawyer, and answered, “With a key.”
“How did you get this key?”
“The landlady gave it to me.”
“She just gave it to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
The lawyer said he didn’t believe that and continued asking question after question at a furious pace. Dino began to recover and answered each question without arguing, although the lawyer sounded like he wanted Dino to argue.
Lizette saw someone get up and move toward her. It was Paul, smiling and winking as he stepped over and sat next to her. He leaned over and whispered, “Figured you’d surprise lover boy, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you did.”
When she heard Dino answer, “She was wearing a brassiere and panties,” she paid closer attention.
“And who dressed her?”
“My partner and I.”
“You just took it upon yourself to dress and unconscious woman and drag her to headquarters.”
Dino did not answer because it wasn’t a question.
“Just who the hell do you think your are?”
The lady D.A. objected and the lawyers started arguing. Dino began toying with his moustache. There was an expression of dismay on his face.
Lizette leaned close to Paul and asked, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll protect you.”
The arguing suddenly stopped and just as suddenly, Dino was sent off the witness stand. He didn’t stop at the prosecution table. He came straight to her and reached for her hand, “We gotta go.”
He led her out with Paul and Alex tailing behind. One of the deputies went out in front of them and came right back in with a Latin girl wearing too much lipstick and a silky, print dress that was too tight. She looked like a made-for-television hooker.
“Was that Carlotta?” Lizette asked.
She could see Dino was trying to control himself. “What are you doing here?”
“The paper said the morgue was fixed,” she answered, which caused Paul to start laughing.
“But – ” Dino was exasperated.
“I just wanted to see you in action. And so did Alex.”
Then he told her about the threats and she understood. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all, she told herself.
They all sat on a bench outside the room, except Dino. He paced back and froth as Paul explained about sequestration, telling her that Dino had to wait in case he was needed in rebuttal. Alex was fascinated.
She had seen Dino upset before and knew it wouldn’t last. He was quick to temper and quick to cool. In less than five minutes, he was sitting next to her, answering Alex’s eager questions about the court room, the defendants and the angry lawyer with the flat top.
It wasn’t long before the deputy stepped back out and called them in. The judge waited until everyone was sitting before starting with, “I find nothing wrong with this police investigation.” She watched Dino sigh.
“Although the defense counselor continues to harangue this court about excessive bail, I find the only thing that’s excessive in this case is this hearing.” He pounded his gavel and added, “Motions denied.”
The lady D.A. turned to Dino and smiled weakly. Everyone stood up. Lizette caught sight of the three defendants as two deputies began leading them out. They were chained together and looked – mean – even the small one.
Dino moved in front of her as they passed up the aisle. The largest one, the Latin with the big round face, was leering at her. She refused to look away. When he passed, he spat out the word puta at her.
She looked at Dino and saw – a coldness in his eyes as he watched the retreating prisoner. She saw a look of icy hatred in her boyfriend’s eyes that was more frightening than anything he could have said in response.
“What did he call me?” she asked.
“He called you a whore,” answered Alex, which caused everyone to look his way.
“Where’d you learn that?” Dino asked.
“Cable TV.”
•
It was sunny outside. If it wasn’t for the cool breeze, it would be pleasant. Winter was slipping away quickly and it wouldn’t be long before the hot breath of spring would be upon them.
Dino led Lizette and Alex back to his car in the police garage. “We’ll leave your Afla here for now. Paul and I will pick it up later.”
“I thought you’d be off tonight,” Lizette tried not to sound disappointed. “You were in court all day.”
“I got something to do but I’ll come by later, OK?”
“It’s your loss,” she sighed and then took his hand as they crossed Gravier Street.
Lizette looked good. The crisp breeze rolled through her long shiny hair, tossing it in circles like strands of dark brown silk. She was wearing a loose fitting skirt and a short coat, a crew neck sweater and high heels and black stockings. Her large sunglasses made her small nose look tiny and showed off her full lips. He wanted to pull her aside, bend her back and plant a big one on those lips. So he did.
She must have known it was coming because she wasn’t even surprised, even though he almost knocked her over by his sudden attack. He could hear Alex complaining, “Aw man!”
“All right,” Paul said as he slapped Dino hard on the back, “that’s enough.” He moved between them, “The wife and I used to do that shit.” He spit on the pavement, “Before we got married.”
“She used to come to court too,” he told Alex, “before we got the ankle biter.”
“Who?” Alex asked.
“You ain’t met my kid, have you?”
•
Wendy Godwin lived on Danneel Street, on the uptown side of Napoleon Avenue, just a sort ride from Magazine Street where her friend, Donna Diaz, used to live. Wendy’s neighborhood reeked of upward-mobility – driveways filled with German and Scandinavian cars – burglar alarm signs strategically placed in small gardens in front of solid doors behind which could be heard the faint yapping of Yorkshire terriers, shitz tzus.
LaStanza climbed out of his plain Chevy and walked up the brick walkway of the Godwin house to the Acadiana gallery that extended along its façade. There were two gas lamps on either side of the double wooden door and a circular drive in front occupied by standard-issue uptown-cars, a gray Mercedes four door and a red Volvo.
The brass doorbell, made in the shape of a Republican elephant, sounded like a church organ. Mrs. Godwin answered after the second stanza. She was a middle aged redhead with plenty of freckles and no make-up. She wore a loose fitting, off-white cotton dress and of course, no stockings.
Her smile was off set by her chilly voice, “May I help you?”
“I’m Detective LaStanza,” he pulled out his ID and showed it to her, “I’d like to talk to Wendy Godwin.”
“About what?” the woman shifted her weight from one leg to the other but kept both hands firmly on the door.
“I’m from Homicide. I need to talk to her about a very important matter.”
Mrs. Godwin blinked once and said, “Wait her,” and closed the door in his face. He timed it. It was four minutes before the door opened again. This time it was Mr. Godwin, “May I help you?”
Dino went through his spiel again as the man stood in the half opened doorway. Mr. Godwin had salt and pepper hair styled back like Liberaci. He was wearing a gold running suit and matching gold sneakers. He peered at LaStanza over Ben Franklin glasses and there was a law book resting in the crook of his left arm. Dino had one thought – Fuck me.
“What’s this about?” Mr. Godwin asked when Dino finished.
“The father of a friend of your daughter was murdered. I just need to get some details from Wendy – ”
“What friend?” Godwin cut in.
“Donna Maria Diaz, she lived – ”
“How is Wendy involved in this?”
“If you’ll let me in we’ll both ask your daughter.”
“No. I’m not going to allow you to speak to Wendy.”
Dino fought to remain cool, “Don’t you think she’d rather talk to me here than be subpoenaed to the Grand Jury.”
Godwin pulled off his glasses, “Are you threatening us with a Grand Jury subpoena?”
“I’m not threatening – I just wanna talk to your daughter.”
“Don’t shout at me,” Godwin took a menacing step out of the front door and stood an inch in front of LaStanza.
Dino’s voice had gradually risen but this man was overreacting – big time.
“If you think you can drag my seventeen year old daughter before the Grand Jury, I’ll have you know that the District Attorney and I used to be law partners and you have about as good a chance at getting a subpoena for this house as a snowball has in hell! Do you understand?”
Godwin inched closer, probably figuring the detective would retreat but LaStanza refused to budge and the good lawyer had to inch back.
“Now, is there anything else you want? Godwin put his glasses back on and eased back into the doorway.
“Not really, Dino shrugged, “except maybe about that snowball.”
“The what?”
“What flavor would that be?”
•
Donna’s latest address was Room 202 of Hotel Vincent on St. Charles Avenue. Better know for its restaurant than its lodgings, the Vincent was perfect for hiding. It was a small place, an old Victorian home and slave quarters converted into restaurant and hotel. There were only twelve suites, just enough to make the place – exclusive. The policewoman took a break when LaStanza arrived. She said she was going to put a rib eye on the DA’s tab. She said she’d be back in an hour.
Donna came out of the bedroom after the policewoman was gone. She was smiling, wearing one of the two pair of blue jeans she owned and the same sweater she had on the last time he saw her. When she sat next to him on the sofa, he could see a small worn spot on her right hip of her jeans.
He had brought hot beignets and coffee from Café Du Monde, some soft drinks for later, candy, gm, anything he could think of when he stopped at the drug store down the street. She thanked him.
He told her about the hearing and how they were in good shape. The Grand Jury was next he told her but she didn’t have to worry, only he would have to testify. Then he told her about the Latin American place Mason had found for her to stay. It was run by the Catholic Church. She would be safe there.
He noticed he was doing all the talking. She leaned back in the corner of the sofa, one arm up along the back, the other hand slowly moving through her hair. Occasionally the index finger of her hand on the back of the sofa would brush against Dino’s collar.
In the bright light of the room he could clearly see the reddish highlights in her hair. Her mouth smiled occasionally. But she said nothing. Her chocolate eyes did all her talking. The voice in her eyes was whispering to him – kiss me – hold me – take care of me –
Her eyes pulled at him until he felt himself leaning toward them and saw her begin to lean toward him until he said, “I need to use your phone.”
He got up quickly and walked over to the phone that was resting on a small white desk ear the door. He dialed his parent’s number. He looked back at Donna. She was mixing their coffees, her eyes still magnetized to his.
His mother answered after the third ring.
“Hi. It’s me. Is the old man sober enough to talk?”
“Who’s this?” Never one for a sense of humor, his mother’s chilly voice was not lost on him.
“OK. I’m sorry. How are you, Mom?”
“I’m fine son. And I still live on North Bernadotte – ”
“Yes, Ma’am. I – um – ” he switched the phone to the other hand as Donna came over and handed him one of the coffees. “I’ve been a little busy lately and – ”
“I know,” she said, “your name’s been all over the paper.” Her voice softened, “Are you taking care of yourself son?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Then hold on for your father.”
When his father came on, he could tell the old man had a few. He tried explaining quickly.
“Pop, I’ve been working on a case involving some crazy Colombians and we’ve been getting threats – ” He tried watching Donna’s reaction. She was too busy flirting with her eyes to even hear.
“These guys may be crazy enough to try something and you still got your number in the book.”
“Aren’t they in jail?”
“I got three, Pop. You think that’s all there is?”
His father did not answer.
“So just keep an eye out. These are the kind of people who wipe out whole families, blow up schools, airplanes.”
“I ain’t taking no airplane. And didn’t you call me a couple months ago about some crazy Mafioso?”
Here we go again, Dino told himself.
“I told you then I can take care of your mama and me. You just take care of yourself. You hear?”
“OK, Pop.”
“Ciao, Dino.”
“Ciao.”
Hanging up he asked Donna, “Do you know anyone who drives a white Cadillac?”
She shook her head.
Then he told her about her good friend Wendy Godwin. That got the first response from her.
“Why do you need to talk to Wendy?” she sounded hurt.
“Because it’ll make your story stronger.”
“I thought you believe me.”
“You know I do.” They’d been over this before. “I gotta convince a jury too, you know.”
She blinked twice and smiled again. The ensuing silence made Dino uncomfortable. He finished his coffee and struggled to think of something to say when there was a knock at the door that wiped away Donna’s smile. It was Snowood and the policewoman.
“I got the Princess’s Alfa downstairs,” Paul said. “That’s one hot car.”
Dino told Donna he’s see her as soon as she was settled at the Latin place. Then he left without looking back. Down the narrow hall and down the small staircase, he kept thinking about the way she looked at him when he turned to leave.
Paul talked all the way out of the hotel but Dino never heard a word.
“I’ll drive the Alfa,” he told held his hand out for the keys.
Paul dangled the keys out of his reach.
“OK,” he sighed, “thanks for bringing it.”
“Don’t mention it.” Paul pulled the keys back and motioned upstairs. “I been thinking about that little girl.”
“Oh year?” Dino was in no mood for this.
“I was thinking – why not a blow job?”
“What?”
“She’s got a big wet-on for you. Why not a blow job?”
Dino started to rub his temples with both hands.
“It’s not like you’re givin’ her pleasure. She’d just suck you off. I don’t think the Princess would mind.”
Dino had one thought – Fuck me!
“Blow jobs and police work go hand in hand. You never got blown in the Sixth?”
Dino’s eyes were closed. He was still rubbing his temples but it wasn’t doing any good. “Anybody who’d blow you in the Sixth,” he heard himself saying, “would bite your dick off.”
“So no blow job, huh?”
Dino snapped open his eyes, “Why do my partners always fuck with me?”
“A hard-on’s got no conscience,” Paul ran off another cop cliché and tossed the keys to his partner.
Dino turned slowly toward the Alfa.
“Do I sound that ridiculous?” Paul asked.
“You sure fuckin’ do.”
“Good.”
Dino felt his partner grab the back of his coat and turned around. Paul spit on the sidewalk before adding one of his patented postscripts.
“When it starts making sense about you and that little girl,” Paul’s face broke into a evil grin, “then you got real problems.”