"Can I drive it, Bobby?" Elaine Perkins squealed. "Can I? Please?" Bobby Bowman smiled at her and nodded, throwing her the keys as he walked around to the passenger’s side. The vintage ’66 Mustang was the only thing remaining from his short time of dealing and, in fact, its purchase had been what tipped his brother that he was dealing. Now and then he still remembered the beating Billy had given him and shuddered, but when he thought about what had happened to so many of his friends who had continued on that route, he was grateful for what his brother had done.
Bobby knew he really should be keeping the Mustang in a garage, saving it for special occasions, but how could he do that? It was a car meant for the road, not for storage. He loved driving it and showing it off. Watching people drool as he passed them was a particular high. He had never before allowed anyone else to drive his baby, but he was beginning to feel about Elaine the way he felt about that car; that she had a very special place in his life.
They had been dating regularly for several months and he had not seen anyone else for over six. He believed it was the same for her. When her car had broken down and was going to be in the garage for a week, he had offered to let her stay with him so she would have convenient transportation. If the rest of the week proved to be as comfortable and natural as the past three nights, he had made up his mind that he was going to ask her to make it permanent.
Once they were on the open highway, Elaine pushed the little red six-banger up to 75. Bobby was a little nervous at first, but once he saw that Elaine was handling the car beautifully he settled down to enjoy the ride, watching the red morning sun as the last of it cleared the hills on the west side of the Scioto River.
The sudden explosion as they topped the overpass on US 23 barely registered in his mind, and the agony in his legs struck him almost as quickly as the enormous pressure. He never remembered hearing the sound.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Later that day there were two unusual events taking place simultaneously, the first in Steele’s office. Steele had never seen Mirage buffaloed, but the big man was hunkered down in a chair as if trying to sink through it and the floor. That was because in their twelve years of association, Mirage had never seen Steele so angry. There had been many times when Steele’s ire could be told by a biting comment or a flash in his eyes, but he always maintained total control of himself.
Now, however, Steele was livid, pacing the room furiously, slashing the air with his arms and yelling in a thunderous voice that Mirage would never have believed Steele to possess. Mirage was the object of that fury and the recipient of its fruits. He was not accustomed to this kind of treatment from anyone, much less from someone so normally mild-mannered.
"I just don’t believe it, Sean! How could your people have blown this so completely? It’s so big that I can’t even keep Griff Smith from playing it up!"
"How were they supposed to know he was gonna have some broad spending the night? How were they supposed to know she would be driving instead of him? You don’t put a bomb under the passenger seat to kill the driver, for cryin’ out loud! You put it where he’s gonna take the full blast!"
"The detonator was line of sight. They should have looked to see who was driving when they saw two people in the car. They did know there were two people, didn’t they?" No response came from Mirage. "They should have just let it pass, Sean. But, then, if they didn’t even look, I guess they wouldn’t have been smart enough to let it pass, would they?" Still no response except a furious glare that Steel took as an admission that they hadn’t looked.
"And on top of it all, they let the highway patrol beat them to the site! They’re sitting on top of it and still can’t get there first! I don’t believe it! How could they be so sloppy? Was this the first time you’ve used these guys?"
"The patrol was beyond our control! How were they to know there was a cruiser half a mile back clocking them because she was doing 75? He was just getting ready to move up and put the collar on them when it blew. He was back down the overpass so they couldn’t see him when they pushed the button. There was no way at all for my boys to know that!" Mirage was building up a head of steam and jumped to his feet.
"Stuff like that happens. It’s like a cop walking into a convenience store while it’s being robbed. That’s the chance you take. Stuff happens that there’s not a thing you can do to prevent or foretell. My boys didn’t screw up anything. The odds just caught up with the." He was shouting now, the spell of unusual submissiveness gone in the heat of his own anger. His attitude also backed Steele down to a more normal level of control.
Stele paced for a few seconds. "I guess you’re right." He sighed. "Look, is there any way we can get at him before he can talk more?"
"We can do anything, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to. Trying a hit in a hospital is too big a chance. Word is that he’s in critical condition, so he may not live anyway. He lost a leg and a lot of blood.
If he does live, I’ll have someone go talk to him, but that’s were it ends as long as he’s hospitalized."
Steele sat down, somewhat disheartened. "I guess you’re right. Maybe this will reach him enough that a word of warning will keep him quiet, especially if you threaten the sister-in-law again. That seems to be what set him off in the first place. If he knows anything he does is going to cause her more trouble it may calm him down completely.
Let me know when your man has been to see him."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The other was taking place at the rec center.
"But I don’t understand," said Dave. In his hand was a list of health code violations covering nearly every aspect of their food operation; the part of the rec center that paid the bills for ministry. "Nothing has changed since we opened six months ago and all this was acceptable then."
"I’m sorry, but it ain’t acceptable now. We went easy on you at first because we knew you were short of cash and we felt you needed a break to get started. Now we have to have compliance on every one of these items. If you don’t we’ll have to close your counter down."
"But there’s no way we can do all this in thirty days! We’re going to have to replace every piece of equipment we have to meet these requirements. I still don’t understand why equipment that was perfectly acceptable then is no good now. It all still meets the guidelines."
Tink Masters knew he had Dave sweating, so he set the hook. "Look, kid, I don’t make the rules. I just enforce ‘em. I’m being nice the way it is. I could shut you down until you are in compliance." Tink was actually taking a bit of a risk by not shutting the center down. His specific orders were to do just that if possible, even if only for a month.
It was not the first time in his 32 years as a health inspector that he had been given such orders, and he was sure it would not be the last; but the more he found out about what was going on here, the less he liked these orders. It was a shame. These kids actually seemed to be doing some good, which was probably why someone was upset enough to put the pressure on. Still, Tink was a political animal, and he knew he had to do something or he would be taking an involuntary retirement with no pension.
He moved closer to Dave and spoke softly. "Look, kid, let me give you a piece of advice. I don’t get orders to do something like this without you’ve irritated somebody important. I don’t know what you’ve done to ‘em, but if you don’t back off whatever it is, the next visit will be from somebody a whole lot less willing to work with you.
If you’re lucky it’ll be somebody that will find you in violation of some obscure regulation and jerk your license to do business. If you’re not, it’ll be someone who makes real sure you aren’t able to do business. They’ll trash the place. Or you.
Now you’re a dog liar if you ever say you heard this from me, but that’s the lay of the land. Take a lesson from an old-timer, kid. I’ll see you in a month." Dave stood with his mouth hanging open as Tink regally moved his bulk out the door.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As Steele looked across the courtroom, there were only half a dozen people present besides the necessary court staff, the defendant, his attorney and the jury. He had just finished the prosecution’s case and now the defendant was being sworn in as the first and only witness for the defense.
Mike Tyler had hired Larry Powers as his attorney, which was why Steele had elected to handle the case personally rather than to trust it to one of his assistants. Powers was a Cincinnati lawyer who had been called into Scioto County cases three times before, each time beating Steele’s people. Since Powers was not a part of the good-ole-boy network he was harder to handle and a lot less cooperative on plea bargains and other compromises, especially in shaky cases like this one.
The bailiff had finished swearing Tyler in and Powers approached the stand. "Mr. Tyler, where were you the night of June 3 when the robbery occurred?"
"I was in the county jail, halfway through 30 days for drunk driving." Powers moved back to his desk and picked up some papers.
"Your honor, I would like to enter these documents as defense exhibit ‘A’. They…"
Steele jumped to his feet. "Objection, Your Honor! Permission to approach the bench?"
"Do so, Mr. Steele," replied Judge Moore, also motioning Powers to approach.
"Your Honor, the prosecution asks that this evidence be suppressed."
"What?" Powers exclaimed. "Your Honor, I cannot see what possible objection the prosecution has to these documents being introduced other than that they conclusively prove my client’s innocence."
"On what basis do you object, Mr. Steele?"
"These documents were not obtained legally. There were no request for any such documents through legal channels."
"Your Honor," objected Powers, "this is not true. I obtained these documents directly from the Sheriff’s department by simply asking for them. Besides, there is no legal precedent for the claim Mr. Steele is making. He wants a conviction and doesn’t care if he gets the guilty party or not."
"He was positively identified by a witness, Mr. Powers. What more do you need> A crime was committed and someone has to pay for it."
"Then do your job and find the guilty party!" Powers was furious, and the smug smile on Steele’s face only made it worse. It was rare that Powers wanted to actually hit someone, but he would gladly have moved that smile to the back of Steele’s head.
"Gentlemen, I’ll have the both of you in contempt if there is another outburst like this." Moore paused for a moment. "Mr. Steele, I am inclined to agree with your argument. The evidentiary rules for the prosecution are very clear. I see no reason why they should not be applied equally to the defense. Objection sustained. The evidence is ordered suppressed."
Powers was astonished. "But this is in violation of every principle of justice ever established!"
"The objection is sustained, Mr. Powers. This is not Cincinnati where you liberals can get away with whatever you like. I repeat, objection sustained."
"Your Honor, I move for a mistrial."
"Motion denied. Let’s get on with it, gentlemen. I’d like to get this trial to the jury before lunchtime."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"That’s just normal politics, son. You’ve been around long enough to know that. It’s not just here. That’s the way it’s done everywhere." Mentally Griff was wishing people would quit bothering him with things like this. His job was making the newspaper profitable, not stirring up trouble in the community, and especially not in the political arena. Doing that could cost advertising dollars, and the home office would never stand for that. Besides, what did people think he was, the county omsbudsman or something?
"You know the old saw. You can’t fight city hall."
Griff’s response only fueled Dave’s frustration further. "But what they’re doing is illegal! I’ve checked on the law and I’m in compliance with almost everything on that list, including all the major things. They’re making up their own rules to close us down because we’re having some effect on the kids and it’s costing them money."
"I hardly think that would be it, Dave. For every one you manage to help there’s five or six waiting in line to take their place. There’s no way you could cost anyone enough for them to even notice."
"Maybe not, but just the fact that we’re there is calling attention to things they want left alone. It sounds to me like someone in either the city or county government is involved in this."
Griff started guiltily. "I didn’t say anything like that."
Dave looked at him for a moment. "You know something, Griff. You’ve known it for a long time and haven’t said or done anything to stop it. What’s going on?"
"I don’t know anything of the sort, Dave. You’re reading things into my words." He was fighting unsuccessfully to keep his face from displaying his guilt. He was not being any more successful at keeping the guilt out of his voice. "I’d suggest that you forget that line of reasoning real quick.
Now, if that’s all, I’ve got a lot to do. You probably ought to see a lawyer if you think something is wrong with the inspection. I’m sure he’d be a lot more help than I can be."
Dave stood and leaned over Griff’s desk, looking straight into Griff’s eyes. "Can be, Griff? Or will be?" He shoved himself away from the desk and with a disgusted wave of his hand, turned toward the door. He stopped in the doorway and turned back to Griff once more. "You know, I have to wonder how you’d feel if it were your granddaughter they were putting on the street to sell her body for dope." Later he felt guilty for slamming the door as he left. But not very much so.