FiFty Fifty

Chapter Thirteen

to make sure there were enough clean plates to go back out. There was no room for ambiguity. The plates were clean, or they were not. As a lawyer my job got more complicated, and when I took a seat on the bench it got worse still.'
I looked around the room. What had begun as polite laughter, believing Harry was making a joke, petered out. There were now a lot of stern faces among the audience of lawyers and judges, staring back at Harry. Some in disgust. Some in disbelief.
And one, in anger.
Judge Stone had stepped off the small stage, and he now stood beside Wesley Dreyer, Assistant DA. Dreyer watched Judge Stone closely, as if he was reading his every gesture, sensing his emotion. Like a card player in a poker game. With lawyers like Dreyer, every conversation is a game – and the only thing at stake was what he could get out of it. And you didn't need to be a cold reader to spot the disdain and the rising aggression in Stone's expression.
'As Judge Stone takes my place on the bench I have some advice for him,' said Harry, turning now and looking at Stone directly.
'I have tried to be fair, to uphold the law and the constitution and discharge my duty to the people of this city. I've done my time. And now it feels like getting out of jail. I want you, Judge Stone, to be better than me, and I mean that. We all need to do better. The people of New York deserve no less. Thank you all for being here. I'll see you in the bar.'
Harry stepped away from the podium to staggered applause. It was a strange speech. I'd been to one retirement party before, for Harry's old buddy Judge Folcher. It had been filled with congratulatory talk, war stories and much back- slapping. Harry wasn't like that. He carried the weight of his responsibility like he'd carried injured GIs to safety in the last year of the Vietnam conflict. Harry had one quality that didn't sit well with judicial office – he cared. He cared about the victims of crime, and the defendant. Very few people in this world are truly, irredeemably bad. They've been messed up, by drugs or alcohol or life. Harry saw almost everyone in his court as a victim. That shit sticks to parts of your soul. It adheres and lingers no matter how hard you try to chip it away with rules, professional ethics or better still – bourbon.
Harry spotted me and Harper, shook hands briefly with well wishers as he passed through the crowd headed for us. Before he made it across the room, we were joined by unwelcome company.
'Unusual speech,' said a voice beside me. I turned and saw Judge Stone. Dreyer stood next to him, both men wearing game faces. If Harry carried compassion and humanity with him in every decision he made on the bench, Stone provided the justice system with the balance some say it needed. He was

not a merciful man. He'd been a judge for ten plus years, but his first case was still talked about. He'd refused to accept the plea agreement the DA had arranged, and sent a homeless mother of five to jail for six months. Her crime was snatching a hotdog from a street vendor. Her kids were all in the social services system, and she had been trying desperately to get an apartment and a job so she could get them back. When she stole the hotdog she hadn't eaten for three days. It was her first offense. Under the plea deal she would've been sentenced to time served (twenty-one hours in custody from time of arrest) plus probation.
She hung herself in her cell, on the second night of the six-month sentence Stone handed down.
Stone came into court the next day, and while in his chambers he told his clerk he'd read the news reports on the woman's suicide. He said, 'That's one less cockroach in the world.' Clerks talk. Every judge knows this. Stone was a cold, racist prick and God help you if you had to appear in his court, and he wanted everyone to know it. The clerk told the story and word got around.
He had a long, pale face with dry skin that always looked as if it was coated in a fine powder. His pink lips, by contrast, appeared constantly wet and shiny, and they hid his small rat-like teeth. He had eyes that could've been black pearls, and he gave off an odor that I couldn't put my finger on. It was chemical, but not clean. Like a stink that he'd tried to mask with dead flowers.
He looked at me expecting a response. I turned away.
'I said it was an unusual speech,' said Stone, again.
'I heard you the first time,' I said. 'I was being polite by not arguing with you.
It was honest. Harry's devoted a lot of time to this job. He doesn't want his work to be unraveled when you take over.'
Dreyer took a step closer, a look of anticipation on his face – like he was about to watch a car crash and he couldn't wait to see the blood and carnage.
'Do you think I'm not a worthy successor?' said Stone.
He took some pleasure in his question – a smug look hung around his little black eyes.
I said nothing.
'Judge Stone asked you a question, Mr. Flynn,' said Dreyer, eager to join in with the judge.
'I heard him. I thought it was a rhetorical question. But if you really want me to answer him, I will.'
Harper tugged at my arm, said, 'Hi, I'm Harper.'
She was smarter than me, and the judge and Dreyer both took a moment to look her up and down appreciatively.

'I'm going to steal Eddie away, if you gentlemen don't mind,' she said. I could tell she was pissed, and didn't like the way Dreyer and Stone let their eyes wander over her.
I didn't like it either.
She pulled on my arm, trying to get me away from the situation.
'So, Miss Harper, do you think I'd be a worthy successor to Judge Ford?' said
Stone, unwilling to let any perceived criticism slide.
'Stone, what's going on?' said Harry, cutting me off before I said something I
could regret.
'Mr. Flynn was just going to tell us that he believes Judge Stone will be a
worthy successor to you, Judge,' said Dreyer.
Harry said, 'Eddie's not that drunk. Not yet. Stone, you wouldn't be a worthy
successor to a shithouse attendant. I know your politics. I know your kind.' Harry reached out, pointed to the lapel of Stone's tux. There was a metal pin there. It was small, and I hadn't taken any notice of it until Harry pointed it out.
A circle with a '1' in the center.
'Your time's up, Ford. You had your run. Don't make me come after you,'
said Stone.
'Let's get a drink,' said Harry, ushering Harper and me away. 'There's a bad
smell around here.'
As we walked away, I glanced over my shoulder and only then did I notice
that Dreyer wore the same pin on his jacket.
We made our way to the back of the room, Harry said his goodbyes to some
other judges and lawyers, and we split to an upscale bar on the next block. Harry felt the same way as I did about parties, even his own. The bar was part of a hotel, and we didn't look or feel too out of place in our penguin suits, while Harper would have looked like a million dollars in any room in that dress.
I got us some beers and Scotch and we took a booth in the corner.
'What was that pin Stone was wearing?' asked Harper.
'It belongs to an organization that changes its name every year or so. It used to
be a white-boy gangbanger outfit out of Tennessee. They got political, changed their names from Nation First, to American Lives First, Men of America, then something else – they split and reformed and split that many times I don't even know what exactly they call themselves these days. It doesn't matter. They don't admit women, Jews, blacks, Hispanics, or anyone for that matter who isn't white, wealthy and ignorant.'
'I thought judges couldn't be that political once in office,' I said.
'There are rules. Stone keeps to the letter of the law, that's for sure. He has his first amendment right to free expression when he's not on the bench. I just can't

abide the thought of that asshole taking my place. I never thought he would get the appointment – if I'd known, I wouldn't have left, but by then I'd already put in my papers.'
'The new hotshot at the DA's office, Wesley Dreyer, he was wearing one of those pins too,' I said.
'I saw that. Dreyer and Stone are tight. Racists are weak, Eddie. They only have strength in numbers. I'm not sure Dreyer believes all the crap that goes with that pin. He's aligning himself with a powerful judge in whatever way he can. In some ways, that's worse. Stone is too stupid to recognize his prejudices. Dreyer doesn't care, as long as he's climbing a ladder. Be careful though, they're a dangerous pair. There's nothing in the rulebook to prevent Dreyer appearing in Stone's court. You challenge Dreyer for judicial bias and he'll hand you your ass,' said Harry.
We took some time to sip our drinks in silence, and I ordered another round from the waiter.
'Harper and I have been talking. You don't have any immediate plans for your retirement, do you?' I asked.
'What do you mean, plans? I don't like the sound of that, Eddie.'
'Well you can't sail a boat, you don't have any hobbies, and you're not going into any consultancy work with the big firms. You're kind of a free agent now, right?'
'I thought we could leave it at least a week before we go to Vegas and get arrested,' said Harry.
'I don't think that's what Eddie has in mind,' said Harper.
Harry pushed himself away from the table, looked at me over the rim of his glasses.
'Eddieeee ...' he said, in a tone that implied I'd already done something wrong.
'I want you to work with me. I know you're not allowed to practice, but there's nothing to stop you being a consultant. I need help. I need someone who knows the law inside out. If it's any consolation, Dreyer is my opponent. I'm representing Sofia Avellino. Harper is handling the investigation. I'll handle the evidence and witnesses, but I need someone with a great legal mind. I don't have ten associates writing briefs twenty-four hours a day.'
Raising his glass to his lips, Harry took a thoughtful sip, and by the time he put the glass down he had a wicked smile on his face.
'Eddie, your cases have a habit of becoming ... messy. Have you been beaten up, threatened or arrested yet?' asked Harry.
'Give me a chance, we haven't really got started.'

Harry raised his glass, Harper and I did likewise. We clinked glasses, and Harry said, 'Well, at least we won't have to go all the way to Vegas to get in trouble.'