Other people

Twenty-eight Koslak

Shit if I was going to get up this early just because some boob pushed our doorbell by mistake. I could feel Mary getting out of bed. Then she's shaking me saying it's the police, and I look past her and there is this cop standing in the doorway of the bedroom. I shook my head to wake up faster. "Don't tell me, I left my car by a fire hydrant," I said.

"I wouldn't know," said the cop. No smile. He had a piece of paper in his hand.

"What's the problem?" I said, and got my feet on the floor. "My station get hit?"

"You're under arrest," says this cop, and looks at Mary.

"What for?" she says.

"Nothing," I said. "I didn't do anything."

"Get your clothes on, Mr. Koslak," said the cop.

"What'd he do?" Mary says.

"You going to watch me getting dressed?" I says to the cop.

"I'll turn around," he says, standing in the doorway.

I'm getting into my clothes, and Mary is at the cop, badgering him. The cop says, "I've got to take him down to the station and get him booked."

"For what, for Christ's sake!" I yelled, and that did it.

"Rape," he says. "You've been indicted by the Grand Jury."

All my life I've imagined hearing certain things that change everything. I hear a doctor telling me one of the kids has leukemia, and it's like an explosion in my brain. Everything stops. No doctor ever said that to me. None of the kids been sick serious, but I think leukemia — blam! Hearing rape was like that. Look, I'm no stupid thinks her husband never dips his wick somewhere else, they all do, don't they? But rape? What for?! I give it to him whenever he wants it, even when I don't want it, what the fuck does he have to go out and rape somebody?

It was like I answered my own question. He didn't need to do it, that's why he didn't do it, he's being framed, it's a mistake, something like that. I wouldn't put a frame past some of the people he mixes with. Next thing I hear the kids and I go in to shush them, only it's too late, and Mike, he sees the cop, I hope he didn't hear nothing. I pat his head and tell him to get back in bed, it's too early, I'll be back in soon, and I shut the door. By this time, Harry's dressed, he's brushing his teeth, and I say to him he doesn't want to go down to the station house without a shave. The cop says hurry up.

He's getting ready to go and I give him a glass of orange juice. He says he can't go nowhere without a cup of coffee, but the cop says come on, and they go. The door closes and I feel like I'm going to go out of my mind waiting to hear what happens. I open the window and when I see them I yell, "Call a lawyer!"

Harry gives me a dirty look, and I realize people in the street can hear me. They watch him getting into the cop car. Whatever I do is wrong!

Mary should've kept her big mouth shut. I don't need the neighbors knowing nothing. This'll all get cleared up. When you fuck some broads, they'll squawk to hurt you. I just need to think my way out of this.

The cop has a buddy in the car. The buddy sits with me in the back. He don't need to put cuffs on. I hold my hands in my lap and concentrate on thinking. Mary is right. I got to think lawyer. They know how to fuck the law before this kind of thing gets out of hand.

So I'm riding along thinking this here friend of mine Tony Ludo once got into real trouble over what started out like nothing. You know how you get to talking to a woman in a bar, she says something to you, you answer, you talk some more, and somewhere along the line she puts her hand not too accidentally on your leg, some sign like that, and you ask to take her home. So Tony takes this woman, Angie was her name, something like that, to her place, and they do the normal, you know, couple more drinks, a feel, and pretty soon he's throwing it to her on the bed.

The way Tony tells it this Angie was real hungry. Tony's got this thing he does, he works out on the parallel bars and all that and he's got strong arms, and he just positions his whole body forward so his head's past the woman's head. He explained it, this is so her clit gets the action, and this woman Angie, she likes what Tony's doing so much she comes like a maniac, yelling and all, and Tony, he's just about to let go when he hears the door. I tell you he's got ears like a dog to hear like that. He says what's that, and Angie slides out from under, leaving Tony hung up, and there's this guy standing there with keys in his hand. Tony knows he's gotta be Angie's husband, right, and this guy says to Angie why doesn't she finish him off as if he's used to finding her screwing somebody. Tony figures to get out of there fast, pulls his clothes on while this guy's making cracks at him, and Tony tells him to shut up, and that gets the guy mad. Listen how crazy this is, the guy isn't mad at Tony for screwing his wife, he's mad because Tony told him to shut up! Well, according to Tony, this guy shoves him, and anybody knows Tony'll tell you you don't shove Tony Ludo, he smashes his fist into the guy's face, the guy reaches for something on the table, and Tony don't want to get hurt so he smashes the guy again, remember he's got these arms from the parallel bars, right, and the guy crumples up out cold. The woman is crying, it's a mess, and Tony splits. It's all right to go to a little bit of trouble to get laid, but that was too much. Tony goes back to the bar, and he's not there half an hour when the cops come in and arrest him and take him down to the station house and book him for murder cause Angie's husband is dead.

Dead? Jesus, you can imagine how Tony reacted. He's been in a hundred fights like that, somebody gets hurt, but dead? And wait'll his wife finds out what the fight was about, how's he gonna explain? I mean Tony was just collecting a piece of ass that was offered him, no big thing, right?

The cops, they let Tony call a lawyer and he calls Brady. Brady's the one who keeps Tony's Shylock friends out of the cooler and he works for Teamsters and the garbage people, he's gotta be good. He gets Tony sprung on bail, gets the charge reduced to manslaughter two, it goes to trial. Brady goes to see the widow, commiserates with her, sees what kind of animal she is, hints that Tony wouldn't mind coming around once in a while to do his parallel bars trick, but he couldn't do it if he was in jail, could he? Besides, he finds out that her husband reached for a screwdriver after he got hit the first time, and a screwdriver can be one lethal weapon, right? So he goes to trial with the guy's widow as the chief defense witness, I mean he's a genius, and Tony gets off innocent. I figure Brady's my man.

Meanwhile they're taking my picture and fingerprinting me just like in the movies, so I say how about a lawyer.

"Make it fast," they tell me, just to be tough. I tell this cop, he's a sergeant, "I'm innocent till proved guilty, right? Well, I'm innocent, so don't hustle me. I got to look up the number." Brady's number is in the book all right, but that cockamamie secretary of his tells me he's busy. Busy? I'm gonna end up in the can unless I get Brady. So I says to the cop the sergeant left with me, "I got a right to talk to my lawyer privately," and he moves to the other side of the room, but watches me like I'm a crook going to steal something, and I cover the mouthpiece some and turn my back to the cop and I say to Brady's secretary, "Look, pussy, I'm gonna come up there and spread your legs unless you let me talk to him," and in a minute he's on the phone saying, "Were you threatening my secretary?" and I say, "Nah, nah, it was just my way of getting to talk to you." He starts to dish me that real busy crap and I say I was referenced by Tony Ludo. "Okay," he says, "you come up and we'll talk and I'll recommend somebody for you."

"Are you kidding?" I say. "I been arrested. I'm calling from the station. I been mugged and printed and all."

"What's the charge?" he asks.

I look to see if the cop can hear me. "Rape," I whisper.

I could hear Brady say, "Jesus!" He talks to someone in his office, I don't know what, and then he comes back on the line and says, "Koslak, I'll have to get you before a judge so we can get you bailed. What police station are you at?"

I tell him and say "Hurry," and he hangs up. "We wait here for the lawyer?" I ask the cop. The cop says, "Follow me," and would you know he puts me in the slammer to wait?

It must have been hours before someone shows, a fellow who looks so young I figure he can't be Brady. I say, "Are you Brady?" and he says "I'm an associate."

"What's an associate?"

"I work with Mr. Brady."

This associate ain't giving anything to anybody. You could hardly figure him for a human being. No sign of friendliness or anything. We're put in this tiny room alone and he asks me some stupid questions and then I put it to him, "How come you're so friendly?"

This young punk says to me, "I'm here to do a job."

"Mr. Brady know you're this friendly with the people who pay him'" I ask,

"If you have to know," he says, "I don't give a damn. I don't care if a guy bangs his wife, or his girl friend, or his mother for all I care, there's enough ass around you don't have to force it."

"Wait a minute, kid," I says. "You're working as my lawyer. You know the law. I'm innocent till somebody says I'm guilty."

"Sure."

I could break this kid's neck. I answer his goddamn questions, you know, where do I work, do I own the station, how do I know the woman, what did I do, what did she do, what was my alibi, that kind of thing, and then v.-e get taken b>' cop car to the courthouse, and there's this runt behind a desk who turns out to be a judge and he looks at me like he can tell from my face whether I'm to be trusted or not. I don't give him any crap, I talk respectful, and then this kid lawyer talks to him so no one can hear, whisper whisper, but whatever he says it works, and the judge says something about my roots in the community — what the fuck is that? — and names ten gees as the bail. Ten gees? But it turns out this kid's got a bail bondsman with him and he asks me all kinds of questions, how much I make, how come I don't own a house, what's the make of my car, things like that, and finally I sign some papers, and the kid is driving me to his office. He says something to Brady's secretary, she looks at me like she could spit. After I cool my heels for a while, wondering about Mary, what she's thinking about this, the secretary says okay for me to go in. I look around for the kid, but he's disappeared somewhere in the back, I guess into his own office, and I go in to see Brady.

Well, sure, I go in there expecting Brady to be six feet tall and he's a midget, I mean shorter than Abe Beame, and he's got these eyebrows that go all the way across the bridge of his nose, one straight black line. His chair and his desk are on a raised platform. I know guys wear boosters in their shoes, but he's got his whole setup up in the air. He says, "Sit down!" and that's what I do, down, looking up at him, and I tell him my story, and he sits there chewing on his cigar. I'm trying to figure what'll make him take the case himself, and I say, "Mr. Brady, I realize you're a busy man, but it's not like I'm a charity case, I can pay a retainer in cash."

"Five thousand?"

"That's okay."

"A check isn't cash," he says.

"I can pay cash."

"When?"

"Tomorrow okay?"

I swear I can't tell from his expression what he thinks, he just chews the cigar. Maybe he's thinking of pocketing some of the cash and turning the rest over to some other lawyer to handle me. What he does is buzz his secretary.

"Get Mr. Cunham for me," he says.

We wait. I start to say something but Brady holds a finger in front of his lips. His brain is on that phone call.

The intercom buzzes. Brady listens, looks mad, says, "Try Lefkowitz."

We wait again. Is he trying to pass me off?

The intercom buzzes again. This time Brady smiles. "Lefkowitz," he says, "good day to you, too. Question. How come the boss decided to put an alleged snatch invasion to the Grand Jury? Doesn't sound like him. That's right, Koslak. He's with me now. Who? Well, thank you very much."

That black line across Brady's forehead, it lifts up in two places, over each eye. He seems happy. He buzzes his secretary again, and says, "Get me George Thomassy."

To me he says, "Just have to confirm something. Take a minute."

I watch him. He watches out the window. The phone buzzes. He picks up, smiles, pushes one of the buttons, says, "Hello, George. How you doing?"

I can't hear what Thomassy is saying, but then Brady says, "You representing a woman named, let's see here," he looks at the yellow pad he's been scribbling on, "Francine Widmer?" Brady listens, says "That's all I want to know," hangs up, stands up, pumps my hand, and says "You're on. Bring the money tomorrow." He seemed so happy about his call you'd think Thomassy was a broad he wanted to fuck instead of another lawyer!

Brady buzzed for the associate. The kid comes in. "Find out who Francine Widmer sees outside her office. Boy friends. Doctors. Everybody."

Brady winks at me, tells me I can go.

When I leave I tell Brady's secretary I was sorry about what I said on the phone and she says she accepts my apology so that's okay. I'm so high that Brady's taking the case I could go right into that Widmer broad's apartment with a cup of sugar in my hand all over again. I know she's not there, and besides, I'm not stupid. I go home and I grab Mary by the right ass and shove her into the bedroom and without taking any of her or my clothes off, just ripping down her pants and opening my zipper, fuck her fast just for old times' sake! Whee!