Read Gibson & Clarke (Failed Justice Series Book 2) Online
Authors: Rick Santini
“Damn it, the bitch is sleeping with him. Why? What the hell does he have that I don’t? Except a few hundred million bucks.”
Rik was not really staking out Marta’s place. He was just cruising her neighborhood when he recognized the dark colored sedan. He dropped back a few cars and watched to see where it was going. When the chauffeur pulled to the curb, Rik drove by and made the first right turn. He parked the car illegally for a minute, jumped out, and ran back to the corner, just in time to see Marta open the door to her apartment building.
Rik had nothing better to do; so far he’d had no responses to his resumes, so he stood on the corner and waited. Marta made record time in showering, blow-drying her hair, and throwing on the first business outfit she spotted in the closet. Twenty-eight minutes later, she was back out the door and on her way to work. There was no question she was headed to her own office.
***
Billy Jo was waiting for Marta as she headed for her own private office.
“Late night?”
Every good lawyer is trained to think on their feet. Not to hesitate a split second, not to stumble with an alternative story, but smile and tell the person the answer he or she is expecting. With conviction. That’s what separates the real-good from the good from the mediocre.
“Couldn’t sleep last night, thinking about the situation with Mei Ling and her brother and took a sleeping pill. Guess it worked better than I thought. Couldn’t believe how late I overslept this morning.”
Marta didn’t look at Billy but was waiting for the tone of his reaction.
“Be careful with those pills. They can pack a wallop.”
Marta merely nodded. Her secret was safe for at least another day.
“How do you plan on fixing the problem with the brother and sister? We have to keep the client pleased, especially with the size of the retainer he gave us.”
She had not forgotten the money sitting in the escrow account.
It will pay all of my bills, buy several closetsful of designer clothes, and put me on Easy Street for a long, long time.
“I’m trying to cultivate Mei Ling. She’s coming around. Slowly. Don’t want to push too hard, but it will happen. I’ve got a gut feeling.”
“Good idea. Keep me in the loop. I’ve got a preliminary hearing in a half hour. See you this afternoon.”
With that, Billy waved his hand and was gone.
Marta closed the door to her office and picked up the landline phone.
“Hello, Mei Ling, it’s me, Marta Clarke. Do you have a minute to talk?”
Twenty minutes later, she hung up. It was now time to call Yeung and work out a time and place where the three of them could meet for lunch. It had to be someplace open to the public, yet private enough for a frank and confidential discussion and preferably near Mei Ling’s office.
Xiang was more than pleased; actually, he was thrilled, but obviously his temperament could not show it when he received the good news. Tomorrow at two p.m. would be perfect. The luncheon crowd would be gone, and there were several high-end restaurants near Mei Ling’s office where they could have a private room to eat and talk.
When Xiang suggested he meet with his sister one-on-one, Marta felt it was still too early. Maybe after the luncheon meeting she could suggest the next time just the two of them could get together.
Just not now.
Xiang reluctantly agreed. He too knew progress was being made. There was not much more he could ask for.
***
Mei Ling was fighting the demons ragging inside of her. By nature, she was not a vengeful or greedy person, nor was she taken by large sums of money owned by others. Her parents were mere peasants who worked the land. What they got paid they spent to survive. It was like that from the time of her parents and grandparents. They did not know of such things as savings accounts or assets other than the clothes on their backs, the simple furniture in their home, and the food on the table. In bad times, they could survive for mere weeks.
Certainly no more.
Everyone knew America was the land of opportunity, of fields of wheat and plains where beef cattle grazed as far as the eye could see. To have more than one could spend in an entire year was unheard of. Now she had reason to believe her one and only brother could not spend what he was worth in one hundred, one thousand, one hundred thousand years. Why, he could feed an entire village for the rest of their lives and never feel the difference.
I am his sister. His only living relative. If he should die, and everyone does, it would all belong to me. I could do so much good for all those souls that have nothing. I need nothing for myself. It is all for others.
Mei Ling tried desperately to put the thought out of her mind. The problem was, once it was there, it was not easy to remove.
I’ll meet with Yeung. I’ll let him know what I think of him and let him convince me he is willing to do the right thing. I will promise him nothing.
Mei Ling blocked out two full hours for lunch the next day. If they could not reach an understanding in that period of time, they were going nowhere.
As Marta sat at her desk, reviewing the events that had taken place in the past few hours, one overriding thought kept coming back to her.
I want to smoke that damn pipe again. I want to feel how it makes my body tingle. I want to get loose like never before. I want to kick back and enjoy life. I don’t want to practice law forever. Not if I don’t have to.
Marta sat bolt upright in her chair. Her forehead was damp. Her hands were shaking.
What did I just think? “I don’t want to practice law forever, not if I don’t have to.” Where did that come from? I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer, ever since my father was killed.
She tried to refocus on other matters but couldn’t concentrate. Money was never the reason she went into law—the hours of classroom, the study groups, the months preparing for the bar exam and the bullshit she had to put up with at the district attorney’s office. It was never about money; it was never about improving her own status. It was about justice. Doing the right thing. Making sure there was a level playing field when the bad guys hired the most expensive, most qualified, most devious lawyers money could buy.
Now she was one of them.
It never occurred to Marta that she was not that much different than Mei Ling. They both had principals, they both wanted to do the right thing, not for themselves but for others. To right the wrongs all around them. And now their focus was clouded. Clouded by the one thing that they could not overlook.
Money. Lots and lots and lots of money.
Neither one would ever admit their priorities, their core values, what they have spent their entire lives attempting to accomplish, could be so easily swayed by one simple thought. Making it big. Having more money than they ever thought possible. Being able to do whatever they wanted to do, without have to weigh the inevitable consequences.
Marta smiled as she now truly understood a phrase that she had heard for the past twenty-five years.
Fuck you, money.
Knowing that someone had enough money never to worry about another thing in life and if they did not like what was proposed to them, to merely respond with a resounding “Fuck you.”
She wondered if that would ever happen to her.
And if so, how soon?
Xiang did not disappoint either Marta or his sister. The luncheon was served in a private room in an exclusive restaurant in The East Village. The waitstaff was given specific instructions. Serve the meal, and leave. When it was time for the next course or dessert, they would be properly summoned.
For the sake of appearances, each came in a separate car. Marta had declined the invitation to be picked up by Yeung or his driver. It would look better, more professional, if they arrived a few minutes apart.
Luncheon was as close to an authentic Mandarin Chinese as money could buy.
Xiang was pleased.
As they were having dessert and their special tea, Yeung began the conversation or, to be more accurate, the negotiations.
“What can I do to please you, my precious little sister?”
“For starters, you can divorce yourself from the filthy business you are involved in. That is nonnegotiable. Second, you can help me open more centers, all in the name and memory of our parents, to help those abused Asian women whose lives have been ruined by the people who enjoy beating and taking advantage of them when they do drugs. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly. As you must realize, these things can and will take time, but the first steps have been taken. I cannot go into details at this time, but I am in the process of entering the last phase of my life: retirement. As to naming the centers for our deceased parents, nothing could make me more proud. Thank you for the recommendation.”
Here Xiang paused before continuing.
Marta did not say a word.
“It will be done; you have my word on that. Many people will be disappointed; many more people will be pleased they no longer have to deal with me. I cannot promise you the trafficking will stop or even slow down. All I can say is I will no longer be a part of it. The public will determine when and if they should decide not to use the product. Here, like everywhere, it is simply a question of supply and demand. For now, for the near future, the demand is very high.”
Mei Ling understood all too well. You pull out one weed from your garden and three more appear a week later. It is a never-ending battle, and as long as there are people who insist on using and can afford it, business will boom. The biggest problem is those who want and need and cannot afford.
When you want something bad enough, there is nothing that will stop you from getting it. It is the way it was; it is the way it is; it is the way it will always be. That is why there are laws on the books that will never be fully enforced. That is why there are police, district attorneys, judges; all law enforcement officers, and the jury system, and that is why there are pimps and runners and distributors, petty crooks and big-time criminals and lawyers to defend every one of them.
It was how the system was set up and how it would remain. It was that simple.
Unfortunately, everyone in the system knew it. Especially the bad guys.
It was now time for the luncheon to come to an end. As Yeung stood up, Mei Ling waited for her brother to settle up the bill. Xiang was aware of her staring and commented, “It has already been taken care of.”
No one knew the owner and Mr. Yeung had an “arrangement.”
Mei Ling stood up, purposely walked over to her older brother, and gave him a big hug. Xiang was not sure if the thank you was for lunch, the promise he made to help her own a string of rehab centers, the fact he was finally getting out of the drug business, or all of the above.
He did not care. It was the first time she had shown him a sign of affection in the last forty-some years.
“You’re welcome, and you will not be sorry.”
“I hope my trust in you is well-founded,” Mei Ling responded.
Marta walked over and gave a communal hug to both of them.
They both smiled.
She thought Xiang hugged her a few seconds too long and too hard. She said nothing. Her thoughts were back on the damn clay pipe and the immense pleasure it gave her.
***
Billy knew Marta was having lunch with their biggest client and was waiting for a report. It was now close to four p.m. Still no word from Marta. What the hell happened? What was she waiting for? Billy had a bad feeling. He could almost see the balance of the retainer being sent back to Mr. Yeung with a letter of apology.
“What the hell happened?”
“What are you talking about?”
Billy was in no mood to play games. The US Attorney was playing hardball on one of his cases.
“Didn’t you have lunch with our infamous Asian drug lord today?
Marta immediately took offense to Xiang being categorized that way.
“If you mean Mr. Xiang Yeung, yes, I had lunch with him and his sister, and I think they are well on the road to patching up their differences. Why?”
“Why? What about the fact he is only our biggest client? You meet him a good three hours ago and no word from you since. Is that a good enough reason to worry as to what happened? What the hell’s going on?”
Marta knew Billy was right. She should have called, yet she didn’t. That bothered her. More than she was willing to acknowledge, even to herself.
Marta was biting her tongue to keep a civil tone in her voice.
Since when do I report to you? Who died and left you boss? I’m a god damn equal partner, and I’ll tell you what I’m doing when I get damn well ready to.
“You’re right. I should have called a half hour ago when the meeting ended. I was trying to do some P.R. work with Mr. Yeung and making sure he understood we were responsible for bringing his sister back into the fold. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”
Marta was feeling the pressure of keeping secrets from those entitled to know. Something would have to give—soon. She needed to talk to Xiang again. Soon. She also needed to calm down, to relax, to chill out. She needed that damn clay pipe again. Soon.
***
“It’s me. Can I come over this evening?”
Xiang had been expecting the call. He had not expected it to come so soon.
“Of course, my child. When would you like my driver to pick you up?”
“Would an hour be all right?”
“Give me two hours and I can have something properly prepared for you to eat.”
Marta did not want something to eat. She wanted the pipe to relax her.
“That would be perfect. And thanks.”
For at least the tenth time in a few short days, she had the same reoccurring thought.
What is becoming of me? What the hell am I doing?