Justice by InSilva

Disclaimer: so not mine.

A/N: Slightly longer chapter than usual. Sorry about that. Just couldn't break it, really.

Chapter Seven: Evidence

There had been no further false alarms but both of them had slept fitfully. Rusty was first to wake and he looked over at Danny, still asleep. If Vincente had so much as…if there'd been the slightest hint…but there hadn't been. Danny had been right. Rusty could see that Vincente was completely trained on him and his business. Even so, a sixth sense wanted to bundle Danny on to the next plane Connecticut-bound. He idly wondered about enlisting Tess as an ally but he figured he might actually want to talk to Danny again at some point in the future.

So to Friday. Had this really only started three days ago? He shook his head. Well, his mind was still made up. Swinging himself out of bed, he headed for the shower, thinking about what he was going to wear to court. He didn't want to disappoint Vincente.

As Rusty fastened his tie, he caught sight of Danny in the mirror, his face a picture.

"Colourful, you said."

Danny took in the raspberry suit, the purple and liquorice shirt and the silver tie. His head hurt just thinking about it never mind looking at it.

"I wish you always listened to me." He squinted at the colour combination in front of him. "You planning on blinding him into submission?"

Rusty ignored him.

"Where are you today?"

"Court first, catch up with Gino's relatives, then Gino's neighbourhood. I'll try to get a line on him. And I'll see what I can find out about Anna-Mae."

Rusty turned to face him.

"Be careful," he said unnecessarily. "You don't know who's watching."

"Thought about a disguise-" Danny began and broke off when the smirk appeared on Rusty's face. "What?"

"You don't do disguises, remember? Not well, anyway," he qualified.

"What?" Danny was already thinking of past triumphs and he let the outrage show.

"It's not your fault," Rusty added soothingly. "You just don't have the face for it."

Several words started to form on Danny's lips but he settled for, "Explain."

"You're too damn memorable."

Danny stared at Rusty, at probably the most beautiful man he'd ever met or was likely to meet.

"I'm too memorable…"

Rusty shook his head. "It's the eyes, I think. You can't hide them. Sorry. But you can't."

There was a moment of quiet fuming.

"So, be careful," Rusty said again, underlining it with his eyes.

Danny considered. "If you thought…you'd-"

"-in a heartbeat. But you aren't going to be able to lie to me anytime soon."

Well, that was true. Speaking of eyes… He frowned at Rusty. Something was…

"Where are the glasses?"

"Not wearing them," Rusty said, smiling.

Danny wasn't smiling. "Tell me you're not doing what I think you're-"

"Gonna let him think I've got contacts," Rusty said, grin widening as Danny immediately got it. "He won't expect me to completely roll over, I don't think. And he's smart enough to understand."

Forget the punching: Danny wanted to strangle him.

Danny caught up with Gino's mother and sister just before they'd gone into the courthouse.

"Mrs Passinetti?" he'd begun and hadn't been prepared for the look of fear that crossed the old woman's face.

"Go away!" her daughter stepped in, pushing her mother behind her.

"I just wanted to-"

"Go away!" Fierce. Insistent. "I've seen you in court. You think I don't know who you are? Who you're from?"

Who…?

"I'm not-"

"He's done what you wanted!"

"What do you mean?"

She laughed and there was a little craziness in the laugh. "You want me to spell it out? You want to hurt us further?"

"I don't…" Danny frowned. "Look, I'm trying to help Gino."

"Sure." Her mouth tightened with contempt. "Sure you are. That's exactly what they said, exactly what they told him. We want to help you. Help you help your family. Take the money, take the rap. You'll get a fair trial. Plead not guilty. Who knows? You might get off."

Gino's sister paused, breathing heavily, a sob mixed up in there.

"Well, he did what was asked of him," she said in a low, trembling voice. "And, yes, he took the money. Somehow, I don't think he's getting that fair trial, do you?"

And she put her arm around her mother and pushed past a speechless Danny into the court house.

Well, that was unexpected.

Rusty kept his demeanour meek. In spite of the clothes, he played himself humble and conciliatory. He caught sight of The Suit who shot him a look of sympathy as if he knew Vincente had been applying pressure. Alice and Curls had giggled at his lack of glasses and God help him, there had definitely been the hint of a swoon.

He didn't meet Vincente's eyes at all. Keeping his eyes focused on the wood panelling in front of him, Rusty listened to the defence open their case. There were the expected statements about deprivation and neighbourhood and Rusty felt something inside him tighten.

Unwillingly, he raised his gaze and looked at Gino and met those dead eyes, the eyes that had no hope and that knew what was coming. Rusty saw familiar things: misery, self-loathing, despair, hurt, desperation and his mouth felt dry. He didn't see any hunger to change how things were. He just saw resignation and that let an unguarded spark of anger into his face before he realised and pushed it away.

He studied the wood panelling again. It was by far the safest place to look.

When Vincente had walked into court and seen how Ryan was dressed, he had actually smiled. It was everything he wanted as an outcome and more. Ryan had obviously decided to see sense and the threat against the hotel had worked beautifully. Good. He'd hoped it would. He liked to think he had a fine eye for details and this had definitely been the right call.

He listened idly to the defence's opening and he watched Ryan. Subdued despite the outlandish outfit. The fight gone out of him. Oh, and no glasses… Vincente liked that message. Traces of bravado. Nothing substantial. Nothing to worry about. Eyes down. Playing along. Good, he thought again. The alternative would have – could have - been messy.

Then the defence started in on a plea based on Gino's background and he saw Ryan's gaze dragged reluctantly to Gino himself. And Vincente caught his breath. Because travelling though Ryan's eyes, he'd caught the anger. Momentary but present and Vincente knew that Robert Charles Ryan didn't intend to play along at all.

The court official had had no hope against the patented Ocean smile and charm and Danny had walked away with Gino's address and Anna-Mae's too.

Now, he was walking through Gino's streets and as he walked, he could smell the decay in the air. Not from the garbage cans or the badly-maintained drains but from the people themselves; heads down, dealing with their lot in life by ignoring it, not even trying to rise above what had been handed to them. It couldn't be universal, of course: some of them had to want better for themselves. But as Danny walked, the all-pervading feeling was of apathy and a community that didn't much care.

He slipped into a couple of coffee shops local to Gino and asked a couple of gentle questions. No one was helpful, no one was unhelpful. They knew Gino; they knew his family; they knew about the court case. There was no surprise in the voices he talked to; no outrage.

"Do you think he did it?" Danny asked and the answer was always the same. A shrug of the shoulders. No one was bothered.

He left Gino's part of town mid-morning, glad to be sloughing off the apathy. As he parked up near Anna-Mae's address, his phone rang and it was Bobby.

"Tell me," Danny said.

"There is a Mob connection. Marcello is related to the head of one of the families. He's second cousin twice removed on his mother's side or something but the relationship is there. He wasn't a criminal. He was a-"

"-trainee florist, yeah." Danny had heard that remarkable piece of information too.

"But."

"But?"

"He was a godson. And I don't think his murder went down well at all. Families don't tend to like that kind of spontaneity."

"Well, that explains why Vincente's involved and looking for justice."

There was a pause.

"I've been patient, Danny. You want to tell me?"

Danny hesitated because in truth he wanted nothing more than to tell Bobby exactly what was going on and exactly how stubborn Rusty was being. Perhaps Bobby could exert some influence on Vincente. He wouldn't have a hope with Rusty. Danny knew if he himself couldn't shift him, no one would. But this was Rusty's story. It wasn't his to tell.

"Wish I could," Danny said reluctantly. "But thanks for the information, Bobby."

"You promise me you're both being sensible."

Now, that was a hard one to answer.

"I can tell you that we each think we are."

"Oh, Christ…" Danny could picture the mix of concern and vexation on Bobby's face. "Look, I'll stay out of it for now. But you call me if you need to because from what I can see, Vincente plays for keeps."

Yeah. Danny had come to the same conclusion. And it didn't make it any better to hear he was right.

The defence's case was weak, like they weren't really trying. Rusty wanted to get hold of the defence lawyer and shake her into challenging the details, quizzing the witnesses, put some fire into her, make her do something.

He was also trying his best to avoid looking at Gino: he couldn't afford to lose control again, even for a second.

Anna-Mae peered round the door, wide-eyed and worried.

Danny gave her every ounce of charm.

"I'd really like to talk with you," he said in his warmest tones.

"Not saying nothing," came the terse response.

"I just want to hear your side of what happened."

There was a pause and then hesitantly, "I saw you in court. Who are you? Press?"

Was he? Hell, yeah.

"My paper would love to find out more about the heroine in all this."

"Heroine?" The door opened slightly further and the eyes grew wider. Some of the worry disappeared to be replaced by curiosity.

"Sure." His widest smile.

She hesitated. "Not now," she said finally.

"When? Where?" he asked gently.

"Tomorrow. 3pm. You know Shelleys on the corner of Aston Boulevard."

He didn't but he'd find it.

"I'll be there," he assured her. "And thank you."

"Yeah…" she paused, then with just a hint of coyness, "Is there going to be a photo?"

Danny's smile was broad. "Absolutely."

Lunch had been and gone in the courtroom and Rusty noticed without looking that Vincente had not returned. All the other players were there though: Gino's relatives, the law student, the ghoulish regulars.

The defence lawyer was slow back to her seat and she bent her head towards Gino with a whispered message, then approached the bench.

Judge Everton Fuller listened, nodded and made an announcement.

"Some new evidence has come to light and the defence would like to request a recess in order to explore it. Court is adjourned until Monday morning. Have a good weekend, people."

Under his eyelashes, Rusty watched Gino's face and saw a flicker of hope. Good. That was more like it.

Outside the court, he walked back to the car, punching in Danny's number as he did so.

"Court broke up early," he said. "New evidence for the defence."

There was definitely a question in the last phrase. Danny quashed it.

"Not me."

"Oh…OK. What you got to tell me?"

"Bobby called. There is a Mob connection. Marcello was important to one of the family heads."

"Well, that explains-"

"Yeah. You going to talk to Bobby?"

Rusty smiled. "No. Haven't finished talking to you."

He heard the sigh.

"Anna-Mae's meeting me tomorrow for a heart-to-heart."

"Sounds cosy."

"Hope not."

"You meet up with Gino's relatives?"

"I did."

Rusty could hear the reluctance. "What is it?"

"Gino was paid to take the fall. Sorry, Rusty. Not as innocent as you'd hoped."

There was a pause and then, "We're still going through with this, Danny."

He knew the next question before Danny asked it and they spoke at the same time.

"Was-"

"Yeah. Think he believes me."

"Think or know?"

"Didn't look at him. Thought it best."

"Right. See you back at the hotel."

"Yeah. Later." Rusty hung up and started to dig around in his pocket for his car keys.

He felt rather than saw the presence behind him and he made an instinctive break for it rounding the corner at high speed. Unfortunately, he ran straight into someone solid and brick-like. And then whoever he was running from caught up with him and proved to be equally immovable.

A grey van pulled up alongside and the side door flew open. Encouragement appeared in the form of a gun, a strip of dark cloth secured itself around his eyes and stumbling, he found himself pushed into the van and away.