By the Book Chapter 24
Mark Connelly woke up with a heavy heart. He was very down, had been for days. He had not the slightest desire to get out of bed, or even move, for that matter. Depression had a way of doing that to you.
Sarah, his wife, was extremely worried. She wanted him to see a doctor. He refused. He knew a doctor could not help him out of this dilemma. Nobody could. He had dug himself into a hole so deep he could never hope to get out. He could never recover from this. The only thing he could do to even begin to fix any of this was to admit his guilt in the framing of Detective Goren. And that, in turn, would result in not only his arrest, but that of the real killer, his son, Jake. That was the worst part of it, turning his son in. He felt like such a failure. A traitor to his own son. And Jake, of course, would never forgive him, even in death. But it had to be done. Jake was unpredictable, totally out of control. Who knew when he would go off again? When he would kill again? He'd tasted blood once, did it get easier the second time around? No, Jake had to be stopped. And he, Mark, had to stop him.
But first, he had to get up. That was the hard part right now. He just could not get up.
On a personal note, Bobby's injuries were finally starting to heal. His dislocated left shoulder and broken hand were progressing nicely, and his face was still in the process of healing. All the swelling had finally gone down, and the bruising was gone. He was still seeing the doctor regularly to make sure it was healing properly, and so far there were no signs of rejection or infection.
His ribs, however, were a different story. They'd taken a tremendous beating, both from fists and vicious kicks from every one of Bobby's attackers. They would still take some time to heal. Occasionally a sharp move or an extra deep breath would aggravate them. His right arm wasn't doing as well, either, due to the fact that Bobby had never kept it immobile enough to heal, so that he wouldn't be a complete invalid and could somewhat take care of himself when he left the hospital. Now he was paying the price. It ached horribly all the time, and there didn't seem to be anything that could be done for it, although his doctor said surgery might help. Bobby wanted nothing more to do with surgery, especially when it only "might" help. So, he would continue to live on pain pills for a while, and do therapy on it, along with his other arm. And hope it would work.
In the meantime, Bobby's trial was progressing, alternately going from bad to good and back again.
ADA Williams brought the emails between Bobby and Nicole into evidence. Bobby listened as the emails were read aloud to a basically enthralled gallery, how Nicole had watched as Bobby and his girlfriend had had sex; how Nicole had wanted Bobby, and how she had threatened to make the emails public. Not only was Bobby incredibly humiliated, but it was damning evidence. Bobby was tired of all the manufactured evidence, the innuendoes, and the outright lies, and once again protested. This time the judge showed no mercy.
"Bailiff, restrain and gag the defendant."
When the bailiff approached Bobby, Bobby suddenly went crazy. He fought off the bailiff and another joined in.
In the gallery, Alex's eyes welled up with tears. She couldn't stand to see her partner being treated so badly. Nor could Joe. He spoke to the judge privately, and the judge called a recess, after reprimanding Bobby severely and leveling a fine twice as large as before, on both Bobby and Joe. And he told Bobby there would be no more "next times."
Later that evening at Bobby's apartment, Joe literally lit into Bobby. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded. When Bobby didn't say anything, Joe continued. "You cost me $500.00 this time! Not to mention—"
"I'll pay the fine!" Bobby said, getting angry too.
"And where in the hell are you going to come up with the money? Your own little fine is costing you another $1000.00! You know you're already into your personal savings over this, and you've got that bondsman who's charging you some hefty interest. And you're not working. Once your savings are gone, what then?"
Bobby had no answer.
"And do you know how close he came to restraining and gagging you? I had to do some hard and fast talking to prevent that!"
At that Bobby turned away. That was obviously a sore spot, and Joe jumped on it in an attempt to keep the sometimes volatile Bobby in check in the courtroom.
"Is that what you want, Bobby, to be publicly restrained and gagged—"
Bobby suddenly turned into him, furious, bumping him back. "You think that's what I want? Do you? You think I—" Bobby's hands suddenly flew to his face, his hands gripping his forehead and face tightly. He turned away, visibly shaking.
"Bobby?" Joe followed him. "Hey, Buddy, what's the matter?" He tried to get in front of him, but Bobby wouldn't allow it.
"Get the fuck away from me!"
"Bobby…?" He put his hand on Bobby's shoulder, and Bobby froze for an instant.
"Don't…don't touch me." He sank onto the couch, hands still over his face, physically shaking.
Joe stepped back. Shit…what the hell just happened? He took out a pack of cigarettes, and lit two of them. "Here, Bobby." He held one out for Bobby, who took it with a trembling hand.
After a few moments Bobby seemed to settle down a little, and Joe ventured a question. "What happened, Bobby?"
"I…don't know…when you said…" and Bobby couldn't say the words 'restrained and gagged' "it made me think of McFadden…and…and what they did to me."
"What they did to you—it's over, Bobby."
Bobby stared at him. "You think so? You think it's over for me? Do you really even know what he did to me?"
"Everything? Probably not—"
"He tied my hands behind me with that fucking duct tape. He pushed that filthy gag in my mouth. I could hardly breathe. And then he had them torture me, twisting my arms right out of their sockets and beat the fuck out of me. They broke half my ribs…" he shuddered. "They kept me gagged, and they put that…vial of spirits to my nose, I couldn't breathe at all. I started choking…I couldn't get a single breath." Bobby appeared to be hyperventilating as he spoke.
"Take it easy, Buddy…take it easy…" Joe said soothingly.
"It was…terrifying. I kept trying to breathe, and couldn't, and he just stood there watching me! Letting me pass out—I thought I was dying…" Suddenly Bobby broke down, holding his head in his hands again, not looking up for a very long time. Joe couldn't tell if he was crying, distressed or both.
Joe realized this was probably the first time Bobby had really put into words the terrible ordeal he'd been through, and put his hands lightly on Bobby's shoulders and gently massaged. "It's okay, Buddy, just let it out." To himself Joe thought, Christ! This poor bastard's been through it all. If and when this is all over, he's gonna need a whole team of shrinks.
Later that evening
Sometime later, the phone rang.
"You want to take this, Bobby?" Joe asked, not sure if Bobby was up for anything.
"Yeah." He took the phone. "Hello?"
"Detective Goren? This is Asst. Chief Mark Connelly."
Bobby frowned. "What do you want?" he asked testily.
"I'd um, like to set up a meeting with you and your lawyer. Would tomorrow morning be acceptable to you?"
Bobby didn't get what Connelly could possibly have to say to him. "Uh, I guess so. What's this about?"
"I'd rather not discuss this over the phone."
Bobby didn't like this, but he agreed, checking with Joe to make sure he was available. Then he hung up, and looked at Joe.
"Well this should be interesting."
Bobby had no idea what an understatement those words would prove to be.
Next morning, home of Mark ConnellyMark stayed in bed a lot longer than he planned. He knew he had to get up, he had that appointment with Goren and his lawyer. It was hard, so hard. Today was the beginning of the end of his life. He was in no hurry.
Two hours later, Mark made his way downstairs, running into his wife on the way down.
"Finally!" she said, only half teasingly. "You're up. I just made coffee." She took his hand and led him into the living room. "Here, honey, sit here. I'll get us some."
"Sarah…no. I have to go."
Sarah stared at him. "Mark, honey, please! Tell me what's wrong!"
Mark's only answer was to look at her, and kiss her tenderly on the lips. And he left.
Sarah watched him from the window, tears trickling down her cheeks. Before long, her son Jake joined her at the window.
"What's wrong, Mom?" he asked. "Where's Dad going?"
"I don't know, Jake." She looked at him, her eyes filled with pain. "There's something wrong with him. We've got to do something…"
Jake watched as his father got in his car. "Don't worry, Mom. I'll take care of him."
Bobby's apartment building
At the door, Mark paused for just a moment, reconsidering his decision to fix this. He was very uneasy about this, very scared. Then he plunged forward, and pressed the buzzer.
Bobby clicked on the intercom.
"Detective Goren? This is Mark Connelly. May I come up?"
Bout friggin' time. "Yeah, come on up."
Mark pushed open the door to the entranceway, and just as he entered, another person pushed his way in, nearly knocking Mark down. Mark was annoyed, and turned to the person angrily. "Watch it—Jake?"
"Hi, Dad." He grinned. There was that crazy glint in his eyes again. He waved a gun in front of his father's face. "Shall we go visit your friend now?"
tbc