A Million Tears (58 page)

He took the paper out of my hand, looked at it and said: ‘Hell, I don’t need to tell you, you just read it,’ his voice became louder and he thrust it back at me.

‘You dumb cluck,’ I said. ‘And I don’t mean that because you can’t read, but because you didn’t hire a lawyer to do it for you.’

He looked embarrassed for a moment and then grinned. ‘I was going to get angry and chuck you off but I reckon that’d be pretty stupid. Okay, so I can’t read.’

‘And I don’t suppose you asked anybody to read it to you?’

‘What do you take me for? And let all the waterfront know how stupid I am? I’m well known as a smart man amongst the sailors, a man not to be tangled with, too. How else do you think I got you out last night? You know what they’d think of me if they knew I couldn’t read?’

‘What do they say now you’re going to lose your boat?’

‘That I had some bad luck but I’ll be back again soon, making my fortune.’

‘Bad luck my Aunt Fanny. You were taken for a ride. You paid most of the money and now you’ve lost it all. Weren’t you told you had to pay every four weeks?’ But I knew the answer to that one. ‘One thing I don’t understand and that is what the judge was doing. Any half-arsed judge worth a nickel would immediately have seen what had happened. Hang on, tell me something. That paper about you still owing money, was it read out or did the judge ask you if you understood and agreed with it?’

‘He asked if I understood and agreed with it.’

‘That figures, and you said yes. All nice and legal and I bet if the court records were examined they could prove to be straight as well.’ I paused and managed a few more mouthfuls of his foul coffee. ‘So who was the judge?’

‘I was going to. I made my last payment, or so I thought, and was enjoying a few weeks here, spending what I had until I was broke before going on another job.’

‘And just before you went they slapped a court order on you forbidding you from sailing until after the hearing which was another few weeks later when you were really skint.’

‘How do you know?’

I didn’t bother replying. ‘If I go and see Guinn I reckon I won’t get anywhere. Also, it’ll take a judge’s order to change things anyway, or even to order a retrial. And of course you would still be liable to make the payment though I could possibly get that deferred for a month,’ I paused while the idea took root. ‘If I can get your boat back and if I pay the outstanding amount, will you let me be your partner? Owning say one fifth of the boat and receiving half the profits for the next six months? After that the ownership and all the profits revert to you?’

He looked at me as though I had suddenly grown a second head and then his grin really blossomed out. ‘You mean it, don’t you? You think you can get my boat back for me?’

‘I think so. In fact I’m pretty sure about it. Is it a deal?’

‘It’s a deal,’ he held out his hand and we shook. ‘That’s the only sort of deal I know and that’s the one we stick to. No papers, just my hand.’

It offended my lawyer’s sense but I agreed. ‘Does that mean I don’t have to leave today?’

‘No, I’m afraid not. If you stay you’ll be breaking the law. But we’ll be back. Let’s not waste any more time. I need to find out a few things, like the names of the important politicians in the state. And a town this size surely has more than one judge.’

The court house was an imposing building near the centre of town. There were two judges for New Orleans and the area. They were both in session when we arrived and we went in to listen to a Judge Hogg. From where I sat he appeared the usual bigoted, small minded man who aspired to the office, particularly in the southern states. I guessed no Negro ever won a case under him – even if they managed to get to court. I stayed for the rest of the afternoon, listening to him hand out judgements on drunk and disorderly cases, shooting-up-the-town cases and other petty misdemeanours. No defence lawyer was listened to and each was often interrupted, reducing the proceedings to a farce. I sighed. It was going to be tougher than I had thought, especially if he and Masters were friends – more than likely under the circumstances.

When the court was finally adjourned for the day I said to Jake, ‘Let’s go and see him in his rooms. We might get somewhere, though I doubt it. I expect that as soon as we talk to him, he’ll be around to tell Masters as fast as he can get there.’

Jake grinned. ‘You couldn’t be more wrong. I hear those two haven’t spoken to each other in five years.’

‘Why not?’

‘It was something to do with Masters’ wanting to marry Hogg’s widowed sister and she being stopped by Hogg or something stupid like that. It seemed Hogg wanted her to look after him, him not being married and all. So they aren’t what you’d call friendly, not by a long chalk.’

‘Good. That’s about the best news I’ve heard all day.’

I knocked on the door and when a gruff and imperious voice told us to enter, we did just that. The judge was sitting at his desk, shoes off, feet propped before him, the dubious value of his sister’s housework shown through the holes in his socks. The room had one wall lined with books, a fire place, a window overlooking the main square, a threadbare carpet and one seat for a visitor. He neither greeted us nor offered his hand, but just sat there, with a scowl on his unpleasant face. He was a little, wizened man, skinny, grey haired and had the biggest ears I’d ever seen.

‘My name is Griffiths, David Griffiths and I’m an attorney at law, representing my client here, Jake . . .’

‘I know Kirkpatrick,’ he interrupted me. ‘He’s been before me enough times. What’s he done this time?’ he asked with a sneer.

‘Nothing yet. But through me he’s going to. I’ve written the facts of the situation here,’ I offered him the few sheets of paper I had prepared while I was sitting in the court. He waved them away.

‘I can’t be bothered with them. I’m a busy man. State what you want and make it snappy. I want to go home.’

‘I don’t think you’ll be in such a hurry when I’ve finished,’ I replied and then wished I had kept my mouth shut after he shot me a look of pure venom. Before he could say anything I launched into Jake’s story. When I was finished I was surprised by his reaction.

‘So? If that’s all you’ve got to tell me, then good day, sir,’ he sat forward in his chair and dropped his feet to the floor.

‘Aren’t you interested? There’s been a blatant miscarriage of justice. More, it’s plain crooked. I want the case reopened and if Guinn doesn’t agree to settle properly I want a retrial. And if I can’t get an honest one here I want it in another state.’

At this he lurched to his feet, all five feet nothing of him, finger pointing to the door, shaking with indignation and wrath. ‘Get out, before I have you thrown out.’

‘You aren’t having anybody thrown out,’ I said softly. ‘In a similar case of Merrick versus Abernathy, when illiteracy was proven, the court ruled in favour of the defendant. It was in this state less than five years ago,’ I added. If I was going to lie, I thought, I might as well make it a good one.

‘What do you know about state law for this territory?’ he scoffed.

‘Judge,’ I said with resigned patience in my voice, ‘at Harvard we dealt with many interesting cases, especially those that set a precedent for future ruling as long as they were within the Constitution. Those cases that aren’t within the Constitution are naturally illegal and an incorrect ruling can lead to investigation of the trial and its running by certain senior state officials.’

‘Fine young man. Then I suggest you get somebody else to deal with it for you. I will do nothing to besmirch the name of my colleague. And what’s more, I’ll have nothing to do with a lawyer who suggests the law is less than perfect.’

‘Less than perfect?’ I repeated incredulously, knowing full well that whoever had suggested the law was an ass knew what he was talking about. But I realised that to have said so would have made matters worse. The trouble was, if I could not get the old sod to act for us, God alone knew how long it would take to get matters resolved and there was no way I wanted to get involved with a long drawn out legal battle.

‘In that case I would like you, please, to sign that you have read the notes I have here and that you refuse to help.’

‘What for?’ he asked suspiciously, with a good deal less bluster this time.

‘My name probably didn’t mean anything to you. My father is a Congressman in Missouri. A telegram to him with all the facts will ensure that I get an interview with Chas Littlefield pretty quickly. I’m sure he’ll arrange for Neil Smears or Freddy Hall to be there, at least. The Governor and a Congressman can order and supervise an investigation into corrupt court dealings, as I’m sure you know.’ I didn’t know if they could, but it sounded good to me.

‘Ah yes, but this is not my case. I have done nothing corrupt. It’s nothing to do with me,’ he said smugly.

‘True, but there’s possible collusion when you won’t act without . . . I don’t have to spell it out to you. You can imagine what the papers would do with it all. And let me assure you these men are friends of my father’s. I’m sure I’ll get what I want in the end. On the other hand, strictly within the law, you can rule that there should be a new hearing and get the confiscation order quashed. You can tell Guinn that my client is even prepared to pay the final instalment now, without delay. If he doesn’t wish to settle, would you remind him about what could happen if we win the case? I doubt he’ll be able to practise in this State again. He could even be disbarred altogether.’

I was a little taken aback by the question because I had not expected such blatant corruption. But at least I had the little worm hooked.

‘What’s in it for you?’ I paused to think. ‘Well, I’ll certainly tell my father of your help and ask him to pass onto Chas and the others what a sterling fellow you are,’ somehow I kept the sarcasm from my voice. ‘Oh, and of course you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that justice has been seen to be done,’ I smiled.

‘Hmm,’ his fingers drummed the desk top for a few moments. ‘I need to think about it.’

‘I’m sorry, Judge, there’s no time. I shall make a statement here and now saying you won’t help and that I’m turning to the State for aid.’ I reached for paper and pen.

‘Hold it, young man, hold it. Don’t rush me. I have to think about it. Do you realise what you’re asking me to do? Never mind Masters, but you also want me to go against Guinn. And that’s something I don’t do lightly. Nobody does in this state if they’re in their right senses.’

‘Guinn doesn’t frighten me, judge.’

‘You don’t have to live here,’ he replied.

For a fleeting second I was sorry for him, but I quickly squashed the feeling. ‘Are you prepared to act on our behalf or not?’ I asked. ‘If not I’ve got a lot of things to arrange.’ Like a return ticket to St Louis, I thought.

He opened a drawer in his desk and rummaged around for a cigar. He took his time lighting it, the frown on his face deepening each second. ‘What exactly do you want me to do?’ he asked finally with a sigh.

I told him and not long afterwards we left.

‘So what happens now?’ Jake asked when we were outside and walking towards the waterfront.

‘That all depends on how Guinn reacts and how the judge presents his case. Legally we have a good chance of winning and in the process I think I can throw enough horse manure around to damage a few reputations. Like Guinn’s and probably Master’s. It’d be a hard fight but I’ve got plenty of time and enough money to take care of it. And, as a by-product I’ll enjoy it. I hate men like the judges down here and that crook Guinn. There’s plenty of money to be made without cheating the law.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ he said with due lack of modesty, ‘but it wasn’t anything. Mind you why the hell did you go into the Gut to Throaters?’

‘The what?’

‘The Gut to Throaters. It’s called that because of the fights when men get slit from their guts to their throats. At least, that’s what they say, though I haven’t seen any of that for, oh, at least a year. Except last night. I thought it was about to happen again.’

I gulped. ‘I did wonder about the name,’ I said with feigned nonchalance.

41

The boat was a gaff-rigged ketch, fifty five feet long, thirteen feet wide, drew eight and a half feet and was built of pitch pine on oak. In spite of my hangover I had noticed the oak panelled interior and the general lavishness of the fittings. When we stopped for a drink in one of the more reputable bars around the area I asked what he used it for.

After Jake had hedged for a few sentences, talking about this and that and anything that came along, I pinned him down.

‘Jake, I’m coming with you on the next trip, so I want to know precisely what this and that is.’

He looked a bit startled, his grin slipping. ‘Coming with me? You got to be joking. I thought I’d pay you a proportion of the profits and if you’re worried about me cheating forget it. I’ll play it square, I promise that. Hell, I’ve shaken on it, haven’t I?’