Phoenix Read online

  “My eyes are up here, um …” She looked for a name tag and gently put her hand on it, lifting it to see a handwritten name on a piece of tape. The tag obviously belonged to another employee. “Larry … my eyes are up here, hun. Now, why don’t you do Ms. Janny a favor and make sure that her little ole car is parked way far away from any others, okay sweetie? I don’t want it to get any dents now, you hear?” Larry nodded helplessly as Janet handed him a twenty and walked into the building.

  Thomas Koswick was sitting in his office reading over dictation when the voice of his assistant came over the phone to announce that Ms. Winston was in his outer office foyer. Tom told her he would be right out when Janet opened his door, closed it behind her, walked over to his desk, and began to unbuckle his pants.

  Tom sat back and said, “Well, it’s good to see you, too … Jan …et.” There were a few moments of moaning from Tom and gagging sounds coming from the bobbing blond until he let out a low sigh of satisfaction, as Janet drew out every bit of semen. When she finished, she stood up and walked over to one of the guest chairs and sat down with a huge smile on her face.

  Tom stood, grabbed a few tissues from a box on his desk, and cleaned himself up. Once he redressed, he said, “I see you received my most recent bill for your divorce.”

  Janet nodded with an exaggerated frown on her face like that of a child and said, “Yes, Tommy. I got your outrageous bill. Those are supposed to be going to Saul, Tommy, not me.”

  Tom said, “Janet, you are a beautiful and seductive woman.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘cock sucking clean woman,’ Tommy? Tell me. Did I leave even a drop of cum on you or your pants?”

  He sat down, throwing the tissues in his waste basket and said, “Uh … no I am quite clean and satisfied. Thank you. I have never complained about any of your skills, Janet. The bills, however, are required in order to handle your case. I know you expect Saul to pay them, and, believe me, he will. But until he does, I need you to not just open your mouth or you other holes for me, I need you to write me a check.”

  Janet stood up and leaned across the desk and said in a sultry voice, “It’s money that you want, Tommy?” Her red lipstick was slightly smeared from the blow job she had just given. Her green eyes were full of passion and anger as she spoke. “You want money, Tommy. That’s no problem. I’m happy to write you all the fucking checks you want.” Janet pulled her body across his desk until she was laying across it with her short skirt hiked up, revealing her nude ass. She pressed her lips to his ear and said, “I will write you that check right now, but that will be the last time you ever get near this body again. No more ass fucking me, big boy. No more afternoon and late night sex sessions. You can watch my videos and masturbate to them like you told me you used to do before I became your client.”

  She bit Tom’s left earlobe and continued, “While Mrs. Koswick is sleeping away and you lay in your marital bed sexually unsatisfied because she won’t let you do the things to her body that I let you do to mine. Is that what you want, Tommy? Money over me and what I have to offer you sexually? You’ll get your money out of Saul, and you know it. When this case is over, so is the sex. Of course, it will be over right now just as soon as I write that little ole check.” She bit his earlobe once more, drawing a little blood, which she licked off, then pulled her body back across the desk and sat down in the chair and waited for Tom’s response.

  He was breathing heavy and said, “No. God no. It’s a bill, Janet. I am the founder of the goddamn firm. I can deal with my partners. Saul is worth millions. I will get my fees. I’m sorry. Can I still have you?”

  Janet let out a loud laugh, throwing the bill on Tom’s desk and said in a low fake southern drawl, “Oh, honey, you can have any part of me you want right here right now.” She stood up and lifted her skirt with her back to Tom, bent over, and spread her ass cheeks and asked, “I just got a load out of you. Do you have another for my ass that is aching for your cock?” Tom walked around the desk and grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to the end of his desk and bent her over as he worked feverishly to pull down his pants.

  “Some things should remain secret, don’t you think?” Saul asked Phillip Sorano, who was sitting on a loveseat in Saul’s living room after giving him his private investigative report on his wife, Janet.

  Phillip smiled and said, “Yes, Mr. Winston. I do believe some things are better unknown.” Saul handed Phillip a glass that he had in his hand as he sat down in a chair across from Phil with the file open on a small end table. There were a multitude of photographs – very, very sensitive and explicit photographs of Janet Winston engaged in sex acts with her divorce lawyer, Thomas Koswick.

  Saul had a drink in his hand and took a sip and said, “I have been having one of the worst days of my life. I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis today, Phil. Do you know what that is?” Phil took a drink of his beverage and said he knew the disease well and that he was sorry.” Saul smiled and asked, “Do you know someone with the disease?”

  Phil nodded and said, “Yes, sir. My younger brother.”

  Saul sat back and spread his arms on the oversized chair and asked, “And how is your brother fairing these days?”

  Phil put the drink down on a coffee table and looked into Saul’s eyes with a deep note of sadness and said, “My brother passed away last year, Mr. Winston, of complications of the disease. He was forty-four.”

  The smile left Saul’s face, and he put his hands together on his lap and said, “I’m sorry, Phil. My God. How long had he been diagnosed?”

  “He was diagnosed at thirty-five. He had a rare form of the disease and went downhill fast … nothing could be done for him. I hope that you have a less aggressive case.”

  Saul sat silent for a few moments and then picked up one of the photographs Phil had given him of Janet being mounted by Tom Koswick and said, “I … have what they think is remitting relapsing MS, Phil. They tell me that I will live a near normal life span, but then live and life are all relative, right?”

  Phil nodded, putting the empty glass down and looking at Saul. “What do you want to do with this information, Mr. Winston?”

  “Saul, please. Call me Saul.”

  Phil nodded and said, “Saul, what do you want to do?”

  He looked at the photos and said, “Ah … well, my lovely ex-porn queen wife and her piece of shit lawyer don’t know that I am ill, Phil. What do I want to do? I want to have you find someone who can take Mr. Koswick, low life piece of shit, for a long boat ride. The kind of ride that ends with an anchor and a missing persons report.”

  Phil sat back and asked, “Are you asking me to have your wife’s attorney killed?”

  Saul laughed under his breath, putting the picture down and said, “Of course not, Phil. That’s illegal. I mean, the man is immoral and corrupt and working with my wife to rob me blind, but hey, that’s what fuckin’ lawyers do, right?”

  Phil stood up and looked at his watch. It was after four p.m. He said, “I’m sorry that this is what I found, Saul, but I think you already knew this was going on. I would advise you, given your current situation and state of mind, not to be alone tonight. You need to be surrounded by people you love and who love you.”

  Saul stood up as well and walked over to the wet bar in a corner of the living room of his very large mansion and said, “Yes, yes, Phil, that is what I shall do. I shall convene a group of close friends and tell them nothing of my wife’s betrayal or of this illness. I will have a simple party to celebrate the termination of my marital status, which was granted this afternoon. I might not be divorced, but hey, I can marry again if I want to … like anyone would have me.”

  Phil walked over and put his hand on his shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, Saul. I learned a long time ago not to pretend to know what someone is going through. Just hang out with some people this evening. Trust me. It will take your mind off things, if
even temporarily.” Saul nodded as Phil picked up a briefcase and a suitcoat and walked to the front entrance of the home and out to his car.

  Chapter Seven

  “Well if that’s a dance move, it’s the

  deadliest I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

  The conference room at the Sheriff’s headquarters was silent. Sam and Jim were watching the images on the screen grow clearer and clearer. John did the same thing with image after image, and when he was done, the three sat looking at them until Jim said, “Can you save these onto your laptop?” John nodded, and Jim said, “Then let’s get the fuck out of here. We will reconvene at Santiago’s. I need a beer, and it’s late. We need some food.”

  Sam didn’t say anything as John packed up his laptop. Jim was just about to open the door when Sam asked, “That’s it? We just got some great shots of Ms. Caldwell’s killer, and you two think that this is the time to take a fuckin’ beer break?”

  John looked at her and said, “I don’t drink beer. I’ll be having a Coke Zero.”

  Sam shook her head and said, “How the fuck do you two get so goddamn much police work done working like this?”

  John leaned down and pressed his face close to Sam’s and whispered, “I pay attention, Sam. And if you would spend more time paying attention and less time bitching, you would know what Jim and I already know.” She pulled away from him, her hands shaking, fighting hard to hide the fear in her eyes.

  “And just what the fuck do you two know that I missed?”

  Jim let out a little laugh and said, “That’s why we’re taking a beer break, kid. So that we can discuss what we saw and what we suspect.”

  Sam grabbed her coat off the back of her chair and flung it over her shoulder and said, “I don’t know how a goddamn beer is going to sharpen your thought process, Jim, or mine.”

  Jim let out another laugh and said, “Who said anything about sharpening my thought process? I want to dull it.” The three walked down to their vehicles. Sam was about to get into Jim’s car when John looked at her and said, “You and Jim are going to want to drive separately. There will be errands to run after our late lunch.”

  Howard Cohen had been sitting in Judge Alice Walker’s courtroom for nearly a half hour. She had called a recess, and Howard had desperately tried to meet her in her chambers, but she refused. It was just before five p.m., and Howard leaned over and asked the clerk, “Is Her Honor going to be resuming court this afternoon?” The clerk shrugged her shoulders as the bailiff on the other side of the courtroom called the court to order.

  “All rise. Department forty-one of the Los Angeles Superior Court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Alice Walker presiding.”

  The judge took her seat and said, “Be seated. Clerk, please call the next case.”

  “The People of California versus Peter Murphy.”

  The clerk sat, and Alice looked down at the short, thin, balding man trembling before her bench and asked, “How does the defendant plead?”

  The public defender stood next to his client and said, “My client pleads guilty, Your Honor, and asks the Court for leniency.”

  Alice looked at the female district attorney, who was wiping crumbs off her skirt as she stood waiting to be addressed. Alice rolled her eyes and asked, “Ms. Marx, if you don’t mind, please tend to your garments outside the courtroom.”

  “I’m sorry, Your Honor.”

  Alice looked at Sheila Marx, who was neatly dressed. Her dark skin was set off against the light colored garment, and it was painfully obvious she was more nervous by Howard Cohen’s presence than by Alice’s or the case before her. Sheila looked over at Howard several times, which got a raise out of the judge.

  “Ms. Marx, would you be so kind as to direct your attention to the bench and this court and not to Mr. Cohen, who has decided to make his celebrity caliber presence so well known in my courtroom?” Sheila snapped to, and Alice asked, “The defendant has pleaded guilty to the charges, Ms. Marx. What is the State’s response?”

  Sheila looked straight at Alice and said, “The State has no objections to the plea, Your Honor.”

  Alice moved some papers around on her bench as the courtroom was silent. She looked at the defendant and said, “Mr. Murphy, you have pleaded guilty to drunk and disorderly conduct. You have no previous criminal behavior on your record. The Court takes this into account, and, therefore, accepts your plea of guilty. One hundred and fifty dollar fine and time served. You may pay the clerk on your way out of the courtroom.” Murphy slumped his shoulders as his attorney put his arms around him and led him over to the clerk to get the release order.

  Alice slammed down her gavel and said, “Court is adjourned.” She stood up, and the bailiff called for all in the courtroom to rise as Alice walked down from the bench and out of the courtroom. Howard frowned, but then she stepped back in and pointed a long, slender finger in his direction and said, “Come to my chambers, Mr. Cohen.” He walked through the split gates of the gallery and on to the open door that the bailiff was holding.

  Howard looked at the bailiff and asked, “And how’s Her Honor’s mood today?”

  The large, black Sheriff’s bailiff smiled and said, “Good luck!” Howard walked on, following Alice at a distance.

  Once inside her chambers, she took off her black court smock and put it on a coat stand and then turned to Howard and asked, “Why were you in my courtroom, Howard?”

  Howard looked into her brown eyes and said, “We need to talk.”

  Alice tugged on her dress and then sat behind her desk and asked, “What do we need to talk about”

  He got a serious look on his face and said, “You know goddamn well what we need to talk about, Alice.”

  The room was tense, and Alice leaned across her desk and said, “Let me guess. You’re here to warn me about Mr. Phillips and to tell me that he is back in your offices and bringing up the Francis Statler acquittal?”

  Howard nodded and said, “You know as well as I do that the Statler case was a fuck-up from the start. He should never have been released.”

  Alice sat back in her chair and asked, “Oh we do, do we?”

  Howard walked further into her chambers and sat down in front of her desk and said, “Two of my top lawyers are dead, and they died badly. I don’t know all of the reasons why the killer chose Caldwell, but I know damn well why he chose Harris. Benton was a young attorney in my firm when Statler retained him. Harris colluded with the D.A. to hide relevant evidence that would have gotten Statler off the streets, and none of that would have worked if you had not also been involved in allowing the suppression of evidence.”

  Alice didn’t flinch. She just sat staring at Howard, who was bathed in the late afternoon light coming through two large windows behind her desk. She stood up and walked around the desk and then sat down on the edge of it. She was one of Howard’s founding attorneys until she was appointed to the bench right after the firm opened. She kept a distance between herself and Howard and refused to have any part in his firm. Alice’s five foot, six inch frame was thin, and her once dishwater blond hair was now a sleek silver grey that she sported proudly. Howard had always commented on her clear, milky complexion. She didn’t look her age and somehow defied the wear that being a judge in Los Angeles can put on a person.

  She crossed her thin legs on the edge of the desk and looked at Howard and asked, “So, you think that Aston Phillips knows what went on in the Statler case?” Howard didn’t respond. Alice said, “Perhaps you think that Aston knows about the situation, and he is the one behind the recent murders?”

  Howard looked up at her and said, “I don’t know, Alice. I simply don’t know. Aston has been out of my life for over a decade. The Basin River killings, rather, the Francis Statler killings, were resolved by the Iron Eagle several years ago. So, I am wondering why all of a sudden Aston would show up in my office and at the same
time that two of my key people were murdered. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

  “Have you told your old buddy, Jim O’Brian, or Special Agent John Swenson, your thoughts?” Howard shook his head, and Alice laughed and said, “Of course, you didn’t. You can’t. I can’t. No one in your office, my office, or the D.A.’s office can. I have known Aston as long as you have. Lest you forget, you and I were dating when you first met him.” Howard nodded and Alice continued, “Aston is not a killer, Howard. That’s just not his style. I think that his coming back has nothing to do with the killings. I do, however, think that he’s learned something about the Statler case, and that he either has proof or he is really, really close … and when he has the proof, he will go to the feds with the information.” Howard’s face lost all color as he looked at her somber face.

  “Jesus! That never occurred to me, Alice. And if he tells Agent Swenson, that would be the end of my career.”

  Alice stood up and walked back behind her desk and sat down. She folded her hands on her desk and said, “I think your career should be the least of your worries, Howard. You will go to prison. I will go to prison. Many, many more people in your firm and the D.A.’s office will go down if this ever gets out.”

  Howard stood up and asked, “What do we do?”

  “I don’t know what the ‘we’ is about. All I did was follow the corrupted evidence that your people and the D.A. brought me. I might be in the middle of a scandal for a short while, but I will come out of it with a few bumps, and my career will survive. You have the world to lose, Howard. If I were you, I would start calling in a few favors and get someone to kill Aston before this situation gets out of control.”