Kamil Gazal dropped the cigarette on the floor and stubbed it out with the tip of his bespoke shoe.
"You're going to listen to me very carefully," he said calmly into his cell phone. "You're going to keep driving towards downtown Boston and make sure they don't get caught, do you understand?"
As the voice of his conversation partner echoed loudly and hectically through the phone, Gazal reached into the pocket of his dark jacket and took another cigarette out of its gold case. After lighting it and taking a deep drag, he interrupted the other man mid-sentence.
"Mustafa shut up and concentrate on the traffic! I'll get back to you with the exact address in a minute."
He ended the call without waiting for a reply, only to make another call immediately afterward.
xxx
The stack of files on Ashlyn's desk was so large that she didn't know where to start. She didn't have any other appointments for the rest of the afternoon, so she released Nanette Buchanan and forwarded the main number to the answering machine. First, she separated the important from the unimportant, reaching for the top file when her cell phone rang. To answer or not to answer? She wondered, deciding as always to take the first option. When she saw who was calling, she raised her eyebrows briefly.
So, more work.
"Kamil Gazal," she greeted the caller with a smug smile, wondering what Boston's most notorious crime boss wanted with her.
Gazal replied softly, "Counselor, it's good that I can reach you. I hope I'm not disturbing you."
Of course, you're disturbing me. But what the heck. It's my job, after all.
"What can I do for you?" Ashlyn replied calmly. Without question, she was one of a handful of people who knew the clan leader but did not feel intimidated by him in any way.
"Well, I have a request that you might be able to help me with," Gazal replied just as calmly. 'An acquaintance of mine is in a somewhat, shall we say, unfavorable situation at the moment.'
Ashlyn pressed her lips together and leaned back in her desk chair. 'And would you perhaps elaborate on what kind of situation this is,' she replied, suspecting nothing good. Gazal was known and feared as the godfather of Boston for a reason. With his troops, he controlled a substantial part of the city's organized crime and dominated not only the drug trade and the red-light district but also an increasing number of gambling and betting shops.
"By a stupid coincidence, this acquaintance is running from the law."
Ashlyn sat up and frowned a little, her eyes wide. "On the run from the cops? What do you mean?"
"As a matter of fact, he's driving from Hartford towards downtown Boston right now."
"And what is he fleeing from? Or rather, why?" Ashlyn followed up, slowly reaching the limits of her patience. Why wasn't Gazal getting to the point?
"Well, the fact is that he has a weapon in his car that was probably used in an unsolved incident."
Ashlyn couldn't believe how relaxed Gazal was as if he were just talking to his wife about what they wanted to eat for dinner that night. She had met many criminals, but none as cold-blooded as Gazal. There seemed to be nothing that could rattle him.
"Okay, let me think." Ashlyn's first impulse was to leave Gazal and his guy to deal with the situation independently and hang up the phone. On the other hand, she knew how dangerous the problem was. A criminal with a loaded firearm on the run from the cops was a ticking time bomb. Ashlyn feared that allowing himself to be arrested without a fight was not an option for Gazal's man. The wheels in Ashlyn's brain were turning at full speed. What was the best way for her to resolve the situation? Whether Gazal's man was arrested or not was secondary. She wanted to get the weapon out of commission to prevent a shootout. Then she had an idea.
"How far is your man from my office?" she asked calmly, thinking she heard Gazal smile on the other end of the line. She was obviously doing precisely what Gazal expected of her.
"He could be with you in about five minutes, assuming everything goes well."
"Good, then he should stop right in front of the door and walk straight into my office on the first floor. I'll open the door." Ashlyn took a moment to catch her breath before adding, 'And then he will hand over the weapon to me. Is that clear?'
"It will happen exactly as you say," Gazal confirmed before hanging up.
Ashlyn looked at her smartwatch. Four minutes to go. She ran out of her office, hurried down the stairs, and opened the heavy wooden front door. She hung the tiny metal hook in the eyelet on the wall so that it remained open and looked around, first on the sidewalk and then in the hallway. She prayed that no other tenant or passerby would get in their way.
The danger of the situation was not to be underestimated, and it would take more than a bit of luck to ensure that the whole thing did not end in disaster. With long strides, always taking three steps at a time, Ashlyn hurried back to her office.
Why does something like this always have to happen to me?
Not a minute later, she heard a car screeching to a halt on the street. A car door slammed, and shortly thereafter, someone ran up the stairs with clattering footsteps. Seconds later, a dark-haired man in his early twenties, wearing a tracksuit, stood before Ashlyn. With panic in his eyes, he looked at Ashlyn. "Are you the lawyer?" he gasped.
"Yes," the blonde said. 'What's your name? First and last.'
"Faris Mazin."
"Do you want me to represent you as your attorney?"
"Of course."
"Good," Ashlyn said, extending her hand. "I'm officially your attorney. Now give me the gun."
Without hesitation, Mazin handed the firearm to her and looked at her questioningly.
"There's a bathroom down the hall if you need to use the restroom. And behind it is a door that leads to the old servant's exit, just in case you're interested."
The man nodded and sprinted down the hall. Shortly thereafter, Ashlyn heard another door close. Then there was silence.
She went to her office's back rooms and ensured that her new client had disappeared. Then she grabbed a dish towel from the break room and carefully wiped the weapon down.
A Glock. Not bad.
Ashlyn pressed the magazine release and let the magazine drop into her hand. She turned the gun, placed her right thumb under the slide stop, pushed the gun forward, and pressed the small lever. She then pushed the slide forward and emptied the magazine, cleaning each bullet with the cloth. Finally, she laid the weapon with the slide open on the floor before her, the magazine and all seventeen cartridges next to it, and hung the dish towel back in the break room. Shortly thereafter, she heard at least two people running up the stairs.
With her hands raised, standing three feet behind the weapon, Ashlyn looked into the faces of two cops who stormed into her hallway with their guns drawn.
"It's all under control," she said, pointing to the Glock.
"Where is he?" the first officer demanded.
"There's no one here but me," Ashlyn replied calmly. 'I'll happily show you around my office, but please lower your weapons.'
The two officers looked around frantically. A mixture of tense alertness and anger was in their eyes.
Ashlyn recognized both of them and licked her lips. She had been in court with them more than once, and one of the cops was a close friend of her sister, Nikki. "He's gone!" she repeated, trying to defuse the situation. "Whoever you're looking for, he's no longer here."
The cops looked at each other and then at the lawyer before lowering their service weapons.
"I think you have some explaining to do, counselor," the first officer fumed, coming within inches of Ashlyn. "You helped a criminal escape. This will have consequences."
"Before we get to that, Brian," Ashlyn replied, 'we're all going to calm down first. And then we want to make one thing clear.' She looked challengingly at the two men. 'I just made sure that an accident was prevented. And --,' she added, '... that a weapon was taken out of circulation without any escalation.'
xxx
Ashlyn had made it clear to the officers that she would not give them any further information due to client confidentiality. Ten minutes later, dismayed, they left the office. They had come away empty-handed, but at least they had the Glock, which now prevented anyone from causing further damage.
When Ashlyn was alone, the first thing she did was make a double espresso. However, she resisted the spontaneous impulse to contact Gazal. First, Mazin would have done it long ago, and second, Gazal should have contacted her if he wanted something. Another glance at the stack of files told her that she didn't have time to deal with it anyway, so she got down to work for better or worse. Two hours and numerous dictations later, Ashlyn closed the last file that needed urgent attention for the time being. She leaned back in her desk chair, feeling satisfied. She began to feel the need to bring structure back into her daily routine. She looked at the smartwatch and decided to end the day at the office when her cell phone rang. It was Jalen. Whatever her cousin had to report, Ashlyn accepted the call. She had an instinctive feeling that Jalen had discovered something important.
And indeed, without even greeting Ashlyn, the PI got straight down to business: "Two people who fit our description and whose identities have not yet been established have been found dead in the last fortnight," he began his report with so much enthusiasm in his voice that it was immediately clear to Ashlyn that Jalen must have landed a direct hit. But she allowed him his moment and listened without interrupting.
Honor to whom honor is due.
"One of them," Jalen continued, "was found by a bus driver at the end of the route in his passenger seat. At first, the driver thought that the man was sleeping. But when he couldn't wake him, he spooked and called the police and ambulance. As it turned out, there was nothing they could do, and all attempts by the paramedics to resuscitate the man were unsuccessful. The autopsy showed that the man had died of natural causes due to a heart condition. He had no identification, but his appearance and general neglect indicated that the man had been living on the streets for several years. So far, he has not been identified."
Ashlyn realized this could only have been the prelude to the big revelation that Jalen was about to present. "Doesn't sound like our guy?" she rhetorically commented.
"Yeah, I don't think so either. I just emailed you the picture of the dead guy. Please ask Garner if this is Booker, so we can rule him out."
"And the other one?" the lawyer asked, realizing she was slowly being overcome by a leaden fatigue.
"Yes, that's the question," Jalen replied eagerly, which made Ashlyn think of a child showing his parents a magic trick for the first time. "He could be much earlier. However, there's not much left of him."
"What do you mean, not much left?"
"Well, the guy is a real stiff, " they say in the book. Must have been drifting for quite a while before they pulled him out of the Charles River on Monday."
"And do you have more information or a picture?" Ashlyn asked, feeling uneasy that they might have landed a hit here but that this wouldn't be much help for their case.
"No, I don't. But I have something else interesting. As my source at the BPD told me, this dead guy might even be the victim of a crime."
Ashlyn sat bolt upright in her chair. This was starting to get interesting. Slowly, the case was picking up some momentum. "And how do we get more information?"
"Not we," Jalen replied. 'You!"
"Why me?' Ashlyn asked with raised eyebrows, not knowing what her cousin was getting at.
"Well, your mother performed the autopsy. And since I'm not getting anywhere with the cops, I thought you could now use your relationship with the office of the Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts."
Maggie! Ashlyn had to smile. She thanked her cousin for the quick and good work and ended the conversation, only to get up from her desk chair immediately afterward and leave her office.
xxx
"Ashlyn," Maggie said after opening the front door and letting her daughter, who was paying an unexpected visit, in, 'to what do we owe your late visit?'
"Well," Ashlyn replied with a smile as she entered her parents' house. She looked almost searchingly, which made Maggie raise an eyebrow. "That's actually an excellent question. But I didn't know Ma wasn't even at home today." She was secretly glad that Elizabeth was not at home. She did not want to discuss the whole situation in the presence of the former captain.
Maggie closed the front door and crossed her arms over her chest. "She's having dinner with Nikki and Mike, I just got home thirty minutes ago. So, Ash. What's on your mind? Is everything okay with Kim and you?"
Ashlyn smiled again at the mention of her friend's name, but then she took a deep breath. 'This is a bit delicate, and I'm not even sure if you can help me,' she said, before adding, "Or rather, if you're allowed to help me."
Maggie went to her kitchen, took two wine glasses from the cupboard, and filled them with chilled white wine. "Now you've got me curious."
The blonde cleared her throat and sat down at the kitchen island. "I heard that you recently performed an autopsy on a body found in the water. The dead man who was recovered from the Charles River."
Maggie paused for a moment and didn't answer right away.
She's probably wondering how I got that information, Ashlyn thought. She hit the nail on the head with that.
"I'm always impressed by your network," the redhead replied. 'But honestly, I don't want to know how you got that information.' She paused, and when her daughter was about to say something, she raised her hand. "Let's say that this information is accurate. What question would you like to ask me?"
Ashlyn, who didn't think much of beating around the bush for long, got straight to the point. "It's simple. I took on a case in which one of the players recently disappeared. And it could well be that this person is your floater."
Maggie took a sip of her drink and frowned slightly. "And what makes you think that?"
"Well, the timing of the person's disappearance and the appearance of the body fit the picture." Ashlyn paused briefly. 'And, although this may sound a bit far-fetched, a certain instinct of an experienced lawyer also plays a role.'
Maggie smiled briefly and nodded slowly. "You do realize that we have more than one death in Boston in two weeks, right?" she added with a half-amused and half-serious tone.
"Of course. And thanks for the tip, by the way," Ashlyn chuckled, not missing the fact that the redhead had mentioned a time frame of two weeks, and finally took a sip from her wine glass herself.
Maggie rolled her eyes. "Not bad. I forgot that you're a damn good listener. However, I probably can't help you much because the deceased wasn't carrying any papers. And based on his time in the Charles River, it's likely that even the naked eye would have difficulty identifying him."
Ashlyn paused and frowned. "What exactly do you mean by probably?" the lawyer asked, picking up the next ball her mother had thrown her.
"Well, maybe some other feature on the body could help with identification. Besides the clothing, parts of which were still in good condition."
Ashlyn nodded slowly and frowned a little. "And what kind of clue could that be?" she wanted to know and was grateful that her mother was so open. But the joy didn't last long because Maggie was still Maggie. And that meant that she followed an exact compass when sharing information.
"Unfortunately, Ashlyn, I can't tell you that."
The blonde let her shoulders drop and looked at her mother intently. "Why can't you tell me?" She asked disappointedly, still holding out a small hope that Maggie might change her mind. But she didn't really believe it. Whoever the body was, the person must have been the victim of a crime. Otherwise, her mother would not have felt the need to be so reserved. 'So it was murder or manslaughter,' she bluffed, curious about her mother's reaction.
"If that were the case, then we both know that I would not be allowed to confirm that," she replied, but in doing so, she did just that. 'But maybe someone else could tell you something about it,' she continued after a short pause.
"And who might that be?" Ashlyn asked further.
"Why don't you try Micaela Barboza."
xxx
Micaela Barboza. Ashlyn sat on her couch, leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and traveled into the past in her thoughts. A face emerged more and more clearly. Long brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a look radiated openness and determination. Micaela Barboza was more than a casual acquaintance. She had caught Ashlyn's eye during her first semester. And that was saying something, given that over five hundred students in the BCU law school at the same time as Ashlyn were all beginning their legal education simultaneously. How quickly some individuals disappeared into the anonymous mass of many.
But they only really got to know each other during a criminal law seminar in their fifth semester. Ashlyn and Micaela initially clashed violently because they held fundamentally different views on interpreting a legal issue. But it was precisely this passion for standing up for a cause that had formed the basis of the two women's lasting friendship.
Ashlyn took a deep breath and reached for her iPhone. Gritting her teeth, she started dialing the cell phone number.
xxx
It has been getting late almost every day lately. That was the nature of the job. But Marcus Cantu didn't mind at all. Quite the opposite. He was a politician with all his heart. And that was known to be no nine-to-five job.
He looked at the numbers one last time before putting the newspaper down on the side of his large, massive oak desk.
Now, there was only one problem to solve. If he became mayor, he would have to find a successor for his current position who would continue his work with an equally heavy hand. Someone he could make dance like a puppet on a string. Cantu already had a plan and was an almost perfect candidate. He was sure this person was just waiting to finally prove themselves in politics. Prosecutor Ryan Bauman loved the spotlight and the public and, after the crushing legal defeat in the last very prominent criminal case, had even managed to win over public opinion again within a few days. You had to hand it to Bauman: he knew how to handle the media.
However, there needed to be a bigger problem. Cantu had recently learned that Bauman might have been involved in something unsavory. He had decided to look at the matter in the next few days to see what it was about. After all, he would only consider a successor with a spotless reputation, at least on the surface. Cantu had big plans for the city of Boston. After the many negative headlines of recent years, at least half of which were due to the delay in completing the new airport terminal, it was time to make Bostonians proud of their city again. That should be his political legacy. And he would not let anyone take that away from him.