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Authors: Steve Martini
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named and further details concerning their activities will be disclosed during a-press conference on Wednesday morning, April 19th, at 9:30 a.m. on the steps of the Hall of Justice.
"Tell me you didn't know that she brought these charges to the cops eight months ago, to Children's Protective Services, to that Judas, McKa_,." Suade dropping Susan's name stops me cold. For a moment I wonder if she knows about Susan and me. She couldn't.
"That pack of whores," she says. "They're in the pocket of people like your client. They're worse than worthless. They lead people to think that something's being done when it's not. You can read all about it in the morning papers. After the news conference. Two days," she says.
"Read it and weep." This is the first I am hearing that Jessica made charges against Jonah, that is, if suade's telling the truth. I am not surprised that the cops didn't do anything. No doubt if Jessica went to them, they took one look at her record, made a few inquiries, and without any evidence closed the matter. It wouldn't take a genius to figure that a woman right out of prison, locked in a death struggle over the custody of her daughter, might say anything that came into her head in order to gain an edge. But if she made the charges, I'm wondering why Jonah didn't tell me.
"Jessica Hale is a drug addict with the basest of motives to lie," I tell Suade. "All she's ever wanted from her parents is money. That's what this is all about."
"Well, it looks like he's found other recipients for that," she says.
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the old man sprinkling money in all the right places, to sweeten the judgment of judges, to have cops look the other way. That is the way it's done."
"Jessica told you this?"
"She didn't have to. I know how the system works, how they discard the rules when it suits their purposes. And I have evidence," she says. "You can tell them that."
"Tell who what?"
"Read about it," she says. "In the paper." I look back at the press release as if there is something I've missed.
"No, not there," she says. "The morning papers. What do you think, I'm going to put it all in the press release? Turn it over to some stupid reporters to blow by asking all the wrong questions? I have documents to prove it. All of it" she says.
"What? Documents to prove that Jonah Hale molested his granddaughter?
That's not something anyone would reduce to writing unless he were demented."
"Never mind," she says, as if we are talking on two different levels.
"Oh, I do mind. Jonah Hale has nothing to do with any of this. If you're engaged in a war with the county, that's between you and them. Don't drag an innocent man into it."
"Innocent man!" she says. "You can take that copy of the release to your innocent man and watch him sweat." She points to the press release. "And tell him to wear his asbestos galoshes. Cuz he's about to step in it." I give her a quizzical look.
"Hell," she says. "Now get out." She dismisses me with a flick of the back other hand. "I have work to do. Envelopes to address." I am feeling heat out to the tips of my ears, anger that I cannot repress.
She looks up. I'm still there, beet red. "Go," she says. "Get out.
And close the door." She turns her back on me and disappears into the shadows at the back of the shop. I look for the box of releases on the counter. She has taken them with her.
chapter Five.
the Language is Littered with proveras on Justice. It is a sword with no scabbard; a blade that is double-edged; the other edge of justice is revenge. For Zo Suade it seems this is the only edge that cuts.
On leaving her shop I waste no time. The cell phone is locked in Leaping Lena's glove box. I pull it out, plug the adapter into the cigarette lighter, and start punching numbers.
Heading down Palm Avenue I am driving with one hand, shifting with the other, and punching buttons on the phone in between gears.
A feminine voice on the other end: "Hello." I can hear
"Tell me you didn't know that she brought these charges to the cops eight months ago, to Children's Protective Services, to that Judas, McKa_,." Suade dropping Susan's name stops me cold. For a moment I wonder if she knows about Susan and me. She couldn't.
"That pack of whores," she says. "They're in the pocket of people like your client. They're worse than worthless. They lead people to think that something's being done when it's not. You can read all about it in the morning papers. After the news conference. Two days," she says.
"Read it and weep." This is the first I am hearing that Jessica made charges against Jonah, that is, if suade's telling the truth. I am not surprised that the cops didn't do anything. No doubt if Jessica went to them, they took one look at her record, made a few inquiries, and without any evidence closed the matter. It wouldn't take a genius to figure that a woman right out of prison, locked in a death struggle over the custody of her daughter, might say anything that came into her head in order to gain an edge. But if she made the charges, I'm wondering why Jonah didn't tell me.
"Jessica Hale is a drug addict with the basest of motives to lie," I tell Suade. "All she's ever wanted from her parents is money. That's what this is all about."
"Well, it looks like he's found other recipients for that," she says.
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the old man sprinkling money in all the right places, to sweeten the judgment of judges, to have cops look the other way. That is the way it's done."
"Jessica told you this?"
"She didn't have to. I know how the system works, how they discard the rules when it suits their purposes. And I have evidence," she says. "You can tell them that."
"Tell who what?"
"Read about it," she says. "In the paper." I look back at the press release as if there is something I've missed.
"No, not there," she says. "The morning papers. What do you think, I'm going to put it all in the press release? Turn it over to some stupid reporters to blow by asking all the wrong questions? I have documents to prove it. All of it" she says.
"What? Documents to prove that Jonah Hale molested his granddaughter?
That's not something anyone would reduce to writing unless he were demented."
"Never mind," she says, as if we are talking on two different levels.
"Oh, I do mind. Jonah Hale has nothing to do with any of this. If you're engaged in a war with the county, that's between you and them. Don't drag an innocent man into it."
"Innocent man!" she says. "You can take that copy of the release to your innocent man and watch him sweat." She points to the press release. "And tell him to wear his asbestos galoshes. Cuz he's about to step in it." I give her a quizzical look.
"Hell," she says. "Now get out." She dismisses me with a flick of the back other hand. "I have work to do. Envelopes to address." I am feeling heat out to the tips of my ears, anger that I cannot repress.
She looks up. I'm still there, beet red. "Go," she says. "Get out.
And close the door." She turns her back on me and disappears into the shadows at the back of the shop. I look for the box of releases on the counter. She has taken them with her.
chapter Five.
the Language is Littered with proveras on Justice. It is a sword with no scabbard; a blade that is double-edged; the other edge of justice is revenge. For Zo Suade it seems this is the only edge that cuts.
On leaving her shop I waste no time. The cell phone is locked in Leaping Lena's glove box. I pull it out, plug the adapter into the cigarette lighter, and start punching numbers.
Heading down Palm Avenue I am driving with one hand, shifting with the other, and punching buttons on the phone in between gears.
A feminine voice on the other end: "Hello." I can hear
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